This Day in Death

1.10.14: Former Marlboro Man Eric Lawson – DEAD!

Filed under: Dead —James @ 11:10 pm February 5, 2014

ERIC_LAWSONHey pal, I’m not moving to Marlboro Country until you guys finally put up a fence to keep out those respirator jockeys from Emphysemia.


The tobacco industry has gotten a lot of bad press since scientists discovered that the human body doesn’t take kindly to you sucking burning embers into it like you’re trying to smoke a salmon in your trachea. Even rugged advertising mascots have done little to convince people that they should buy something that will most likely… you know… murder them in horrendous fashion. For proof, look no further than the time Trojan introduced the ill-fated Jungle Fever condom, the only prophylactic coated with the Ebola virus. Selling the public on suicide’s a steep PR mountain to climb, and it doesn’t get any easier when even the representative of your product up and dies a leathery-skinned death from using it.

Such was the case last month, when former Marlboro Man Eric Lawson died of respiratory failure brought on by chronic obstructive pulmonary disease.

Lawson was an actor with bit parts on such TV shows as Baretta and The Streets of San Francisco when he was hired to appear in print Marlboro ads from 1978 to 1981.

A smoker since age 14, Lawson later appeared in an anti-smoking commercial that parodied the Marlboro man and an Entertainment Tonight segment to discuss the negative effects of smoking. Ms Lawson said her husband was proud of the interview, even though he was smoking at the time and continued the habit until he was diagnosed with COPD.

Oh sure, everybody has a problem with people who smoke when they’re lighting up in a crowded restaurant, or putting out a cigarette on my cheek after I got caught looking at their ol’ lady in a biker bar that I clearly had no business being at in the first place, but nobody wants to call out the fire-eating hippie in the park. Look, that shit gets old after about two minutes. Dude, you’re giving us an appetizer without a main course. Throw a few jokes in there or learn to juggle some babies or something. Even Chris Angel has those killer abs for us to ogle while we’re watching him pretend to float.

Source: The Guardian

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5.13.13: Dr. Joyce Brothers – DEAD!

Filed under: Dead —James @ 8:30 am May 15, 2013

JOYCE_BROTHERSBrothers, seen here debuting the perfect transitional wardrobe choice for anyone contemplating a career move from rodeo clown to Atlantic City pimp.


Doctor That’s Surprisingly an Actual Doctor Joyce Brothers is dead this week at the age of 85. I know you all want me to say something snarky and dismissive about her career, but I’m gonna try and have some respect about this one. See, Brothers was the first to publicly disseminate my favorite tool for self-improvement on a national scale: Short, largely meaningless, vaguely existential nuggets of feel-good conventional wisdom without any of the soul searching or personal sacrifice necessary for anything but the most surface level psychological housekeeping. Like this stuff:

“The best proof of love is trust.”

“Success is a state of mind. If you want success, start thinking of yourself as a success.”

“When you come right down to it, the secret of having it all is loving it all.”

“Love comes when manipulation stops; when you think more about the other person than about his or her reactions to you. When you dare to reveal yourself fully. When you dare to be vulnerable.”

“A strong, positive self-image is the best possible preparation for success.”

“Marriage is not just spiritual communion, it is also remembering to take out the trash.”

Seriously, what does any of that even mean? I can’t actually apply any of that to my life in any sort of pragmatic way, but that doesn’t stop me from feeling better about myself just by embroidering it on a throw pillow. With that kind of efficiency I can quickly dismiss the periodic flare-ups of shame about the horrible person I’ve gradually devolved into and get back to my lifestyle of bitchin’ debauchery and stealing shoes from homeless people. The key is to wait til the summer when they’re too dehydrated to fight back, it’s not supposed to be a struggle.


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4.26.13: Country Music Legend George Jones – DEAD!

Filed under: Dead —James @ 8:29 am April 29, 2013

GEORGE_JONESJones, seen here performing with fellow country star Tammy Wynette. Here’s a fun fact: In Nashville all divorce proceedings are legally required to be expressed via tearful duet.



Country legend George Jones has died of respiratory failure, and if that wasn’t enough of a downer, it also looks like Billy Ray Cyrus is gonna need a mullet amputation following his recent bout of Achy Breaky Peripheral Arterial Disease.

If you’re not familiar with Jones’ body of work, it probably either means you’ve got some sort of degenerative brain disease or you’re planning to go down with the ship on this whole dubstep thing (my condolences either way), because the man charted an almost comical 150-plus songs over the course of his career. I tell you; People bitched a blue streak about human decency in the 1950s when record companies started forcing musicians to literally perform in their sleep, but you can’t argue with those kinds of results. In fact, Jones charted more songs than any other musician in any genre, although that’s partially because I never finished my concept album about Alf. Look, I’m a perfectionist, it’ll be done when it’s done.

That Jones continued touring and recording until this month astonished and delighted fans who had seen him struggle with alcohol and drug abuse, multiple marriages and divorces, lawsuits over his erratic behavior, and brushes with death in motor vehicle accidents. His life became the stuff of country legend: Following a drinking binge during which his wife took his car keys so he couldn’t drive, Jones famously commandeered a motorized lawn mower and drove himself to the nearest liquor store.

Baller. I mean, you know… a shameful and serious problem that hurt the lives of Jones and his loved ones for decades, but also baller. Country singers used to be fearless about indulging their vices in hilariously inappropriate ways, but then everyone got all paranoid about TMZ hiding in their trash cans and cleaned up their acts. The longer Brad Paisley goes without getting into a drunken fistfight with a giraffe the harder it is for the rest of us to go on pretending that his music doesn’t suck. Honestly, it’s like he’s daring us to stop him at this point.


Source: LA Times

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