Remind Me to Not Die: Media DRAGS Erin Moran Entire Day Before Releasing Real Cause of Death

I’ve always understood that you do not speak ill of the dead because they have no way to defend themselves. Apparently the media could give a fuck about that. It’s just a race to get the gossip out and clicks in instead of releasing factual information in a respectable manner.

Over the weekend Erin Moran died. Beloved character, “Joanie” of Happy Days. I was born in the 70’s and grew up watching her. I have lovely memories of her and her show. As I’ve grown into an adult I have seen her not do as well as some of her cast mates. That doesn’t mean her value as a person is not the same.

The poor woman dies. The next day the VERY sources that leave statements of her dying of stage 4 throat cancer, had just hours and minutes earlier DRAGGED her reputation through the mud. Saying the most deplorable things about her state of mind, her choice in spouse, and where she lived and even referenced embarrassing videos of her. Facts or not, we are all human and do not deserve for people to spit on our reputations after we die.

TMZ and especially People Magazine (I realize they are not really “valid” news sources). But these are what people paying attention to. Instead of bringing to light who Erin was as a person, they said the most disgusting truths about her. I am not going to repeat the facts because these slimey sites already did. I refuse to state it.

It’s a sad statement of our society and as people as a whole. No one even cared how. They only wanted to share dirt on a person who was struggling. The worst part, is even before death, Moran lost the ability to talk for herself. The cancer took away her ability to speak.

In the meantime the likes of Trumpster, Scott Baio, and “6 Childhood Actors” stated the most atrocious allusions to her well-being and mental state, when they really just wanted to capitalize on her being in the spotlight one last time and steal some of her remaining thunder. Fuck all the “Chachi’s” out there. Ironically, when I was little, my dad used to refer to little asshole, boys as “Chachi”. How fitting.

Real friends would have known about the cancer. These people who insisted that they “tried to help her” would have stated something about it and stuck up for her. BUT NO ONE did until the end of the day. I barely know my backyard neighbor and know more about her than these people claimed to state. Disgusting.

I’m not appalled or offended. I’m disappointed.  At this point, it looks like when I die, I won’t be remembered for anything but being a skinny bitch with a big mouth.

I know this blog comes across as me being a being jerk, but if you read it carefully, you will understand I am pointing out what fucking assholes people are and that we could do things better and be better people if we just think for a second, and treat each other with a little dignity and look at ourselves with a little sense of humor.

RIP Erin Moran, you deserved better.

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One of My Worst Fears Occured When I Met One of My Idols Last Night

This particular entry may be different that my others ones. Supplies! No politics! But you might think it’s funny if you get through the entire thing. (This might be my longest blog ever since it’s personal, but I think hilarious bc I’m such an idiot).

I once read that Dale Carengie made it a point to remember everyone’s names and address people by them.

Using a person’s name is crucial, especially when meeting those we don’t see very often. Respect and acceptance stem from simple acts such as remembering a person’s name and using it whenever appropriate.”

I completely agree. It shows people the utmost respect when you know someone by name.  I admit I’m awful at it, but I try. One of my biggest obstacles is that I DJ and most of my friends I see in the dark (bc we’re at bars or late night events). I cannot see SHIT in the dark, never could. And ever since I had lasik several years ago, my night vision is even worse. It’s crazy. LED lights refract in my eyes all weird. I cannot even look at or read blue or purple lights. 2602983-2618344959-wonder

This, in turn, has resulted in me practically dissing almost everyone I walk past while I’m at an event because I just cannot make out people’s faces. It’s a confusing carnival ride of blurred faces that all kind of look like my friends, but who fucking knows. Which kicks in my social anxiety and I just shut down and roam around till I find someone I fucking recognize or am lucky enough for someone to save me and say Hi first.

Which leads me to my story of how I totally humiliated myself the other night while meeting one of my favorite DJ’s in my life.

Remember Napster? And Limewire. I totally downloaded anything I could find back then. It was magic. I was born in the mid 70’s. The whole MP3 thing revolutionized how us GenXers hear the world. I was just a wee junglist in my younger 20’s when I came across this mix by a guy named DJ Odi. Never heard of him. Didn’t know who the fuck he was, but I dl’ed this FIRE mixtape of his entitled “dj odi-the jeep tape-1994”. It’s a straight up mixtape, mixed with no edits and recorded on cassette. The quality is HORRIBLE but the track selection just really hit me in my sweet spot. It’s one of my top 5 mixes I own to this day, but I cannot listen to it on the system in my whip. I need a mastered version.

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I find out DJ Odi is DJing in my hometown and I am one of the DJ’s opening for him that night. I cannot describe the excitement I felt. I am not a fanboi usually, and am not a fan of “celebretay”. I don’t want your fucking autograph or a picture. What I wanted was to A. tell dude his mix was a game changer for me and B. Ask for a mastered copy.

The night of the performance the bar is dark as fuck as usual. With strobes and shit. We record our mixes on livestream (My performance.) We’re called Proper Drum and Bass Chicago) if you’re curious. Inside the DJ booth is a plethora of LED lights lighting up the booth so we show up on video. They completely disorient me. By the time I was done with my set I was practically blind. I made my way to the bar to someone I could recognize (thank you Robin) and told her about my desire to find the DJ, and hoping to give my eyes some time to adjust while we bullshitted. That didn’t happen.

I then walk up to another friend I recognize who is talking to her friend. I can only recognize her because of her hair (it’s curly). I literally walk up to them and sing “Blinded by the Light” by Manfred Mann and THE DJ I AM LOOKING FOR asks if I am singing the original by Springstein or by Mann. I can barely see who is saying this and mumble some shit then tell my friend I am gonna go fangirl out on this DJ and walk in the complete opposite direction to some random stranger (leaving her confused unbeknownst to me).

I walk up to “Jimmy” the graph artist and take his hand, shake it with BOTH my hands and proceed to state “Hi, I’m the DJ that just opened for you and I just want you to know that I am a really big fan but I have this really weird question I have to ask you,” (verbatim) and I proceed to talk about this mix I need a copy of until this gentleman kindly stops me in my tracks and tells me he’s “Jimmy” and walks me back over to my curly haired girlfriend and her friend.

I am an idiot. This is everything I have always worried about for years. I know it’s not the end of the world to walk up to random strangers and talk to them. But, I had avoided it for years by just acting stupid and wandering around until I finally want and need to talk to someone I recognize. Not today.  I totally fucked it up. 5bfWe had a good laugh and I talked to DJ Odi and he knew exactly what mix it was talking about. BTW he does NOT have a master bc it was on cassette and originally it was “for my homie going to Northwestern for his jeep on the way to school from Ohio”. Apparently a girlfriend copied the tape, make copies and it ended up as a poor quality mp3 online on the mid 90’s.

20 years later that mix is still one of my favorites and I am so glad to have such a crazy story to now go along with it.

And now you know, if I don’t say Hi to you, it’s not bc I’m some bitch, it’s bc I can’t fucking see.

JC Penney Doesn’t Give a Fuck About You

Nor do do most retailers. If you haven’t guessed it already, I scour the internet for odd stories and happenings and came across an(other) issue that truly disgusts me. The bottom line. Yes, lots of shit pisses me off. It’s because no one does the right thing! Why is it that is seems everyone just can’t be helpful and cognizant of their own brothers and sisters. I admit, I’m not always nice, but the truth is, I consider myself a huge humanitarian….it’s just people piss me off and I then curse them under my breath. I’m very conflicted.

So WTF am I bitching about. I came across this post on FB from JC Penney.

How could I NOT go in to see what kinds of comments people would make. Human nature fascinates me. As does obesity. I swear I was not going to troll or talk shit. I just wanted to see what people were saying. And it seemed pretty safe. Either JCP was administering the site properly and deleting trollish comments or (I just don’t believe this one) people really weren’t coming in to chime in with fat jokes. It was kind of nice for once. I even noticed JCP was answering each comment. I thought “Wow! That’s pretty cool”.

And then I got to this post by a customer.

JCP response:

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You fucking assholes! This poor girl just posted online how her life basically sucks and that the JCP even contributed to that by laying her off and they offer her deals to buy more crap.

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If this isn’t irony. I realized the girl is very gracious and seems to not hold a grudge against the company. But I sure as fuck do. I’m not even sure why I do care, I guess because it’s such an asshole move. I see it all too often.

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So, I don’t know what the fuck is going on with this world. Are robots answering these questions or do people give so little shits about each other that they can’t step back for a moment and say, I see someone who needs help, let’s see what I can do.

Let’s change this.