Obituary

Angus B. McDonald Obituary

The grim reaper came for me on Friday March 25, 2016.  I bought the farm.  I bit the dust.  So I guess I’m off to the promised land eh?  The promised land!  Imagine!

Anyway, I was born at St. Joseph’s Hospital in Glace Bay on Nov. 26, 1948.  Of 13 children in the family, I was the sixth born.

I was predeceased by four brothers, Lawrence 1943, Pat 1990, Kevin 1999, Allen 2010.

I am survived by my OG Brenda, Tower Road; my three children, Tyler, Stratford, Ont., Lawrence and his wife, Lisa, St. Mary’s, Ont. and Coady, Tower Road and my grandchildren, Nicole MacDonald, Glace Bay, Charlise MacDonald, Stratford, Ont., Hayden and Nathan MacDonald, St. Mary’s, Ont. and Haille and Lukas MacLeod, St. Mary’s, Ont.

So anyway, I think I was a pretty nice guy, despite being a former punk and despite what some people would say about me.  What did they know about me anyway?  I loved my family and cared for them through good times and bad;  I did my best.

I had some serious health problems the last few years, but survived them (up till now anyway) with the help of my wife, Brenda; my granddaughter, Nicole; my sweetheart little dog, Scarlett, and my rescue kitten, Dolly.

Elaine and Sonya and all the other nurses from the VON and the doctors and nurses at the Cape Breton Cancer Centre, the Palliative Care nurses and doctors, Dr. Archibald and doctors and nurses at Glace Bay hospital.

My little dog Scarlett died Sept. 2013, and there really are no words to describe what a total destresser Scarlett was for me.  So I guess if there’s a place in the after-life where little dogs and old dawgs go, then that’s where you’ll find me and Scarlett.  Maybe I’ll see you all there sometime.

Besides my wife, children and grandchildren, the single most wonderful event in my life was spending three years at UCCB, now CBU where I earned my BACS Degree, 1992 grad.

I don’t want a funeral.  A funeral is a waste of harrrrrrd earned and harrrrrrd saved money that my family can use now.  

I was a very private person in life, so I don’t want to end that life with people gawking at me while I lay in a coffin.

I’m being cremated and my ashes are being scattered (somewhere).  So instead of going to see the great creator, I will be going to see the great cremater.

Memorial donations may be made to the Palliative Care Unit at the Cape Breton Regional Hospital

For those who would like to express condolences, visitation will take place on Thursday, March 31, 2016 from 1-3 p.m. in Patten Funeral Home, 71 Union St., Glace Bay, with memorial service to follow at 3 p.m.

Happy trails!  Love Angus B. MacDonald.”

Funny Obituary

Danny Lloyd, aka Rooster, aka Winston, aka Pizza Pop, passed away on April 25th at the age of 64, “to avoid having to pay taxes for the past year and to avoid another year of his New York Yankees not winning the World Series.”  

 A celebration of life will be held at 5:00 pm on Sunday, May 20, 2018 at Davidson Funeral Home in Lexington.  The family will receive friends following the service.  

 Danny is survived by his sons, Frank Callicutt (Beth) and Chris Lloyd; daughters, Abbie Callicutt and Heather Lloyd, all of Lexington and five grandchildren; Mary Lloyd, Annabell and Abbie Callicutt, and Liam and Charlie Blackerby.  He is also survived by three siblings; James Lloyd (Tanya), David Lloyd and Suzie Lloyd.  He was preceded in death by his parents, Charles and Barbara Kimball Lloyd.

 He was a generous man – giving away many of his possessions in the months before he died.  He even left his car to twelve different friends, depending upon who visited him last.  He was a life-long ticket scalper and broker, or as he called it “a facilitator of supply/demand economics.”  Once when asked about any regrets from his ticket sales, Danny confessed, “There was that time I told a Carolina fan that he needed to buy my ticket immediately if he wanted to hear Dean Smith sing the National Anthem.”  

 Danny was cremated – for two reasons:  There could be no viewing since his family refused to honor his request to have him standing in the corner of the room with a sign saying “Buying Tickets” in one hand, and in his other hand a sign saying “Selling Tickets” so that he would appear natural and life-like to his visitors.  

 Because his brother played football for Wake Forest University, Danny was a lifelong Demon Deacon fan, and he had respectfully requested six Wake Forest pall bearers so that the “Deacs” could “let him down” one last time.

 Danny has informed Hampton Inn that they can finally reinstate their pledge to not charge anyone who is not 100% satisfied, as he will no longer be staying there.

 For those attending his memorial service, please ignore Danny’s scalper friends who might be offering to upgrade your seat for a small price.  To any crooks reading this:  None of the family and friends attending this service have anything of value.  Remember, he gave his car to a dozen of us.  And one of his sons is Chris “Country” Lloyd, so it is certainly not worth the risk. 

 Danny Lloyd loved his siblings a little bit, and his children even more.  But those grandkids…they stole his heart.  They were the reason he lived his final 4 years with a sober mind and a giving heart.

 We loved him.  And we already miss him.

Aaron Purmort

Full Obituary

“Age 35, died peacefully at home on November 25 after complications from a radioactive spider bite that led to years of crime-fighting and a years long battle with a nefarious criminal named Cancer, who has plagued our society for far too long.  

Civilians will recognize him best as Spider-Man, and thank him for his many years of service protecting our city.

His family knew him only as a kind and mild-mannered Art Director, a designer of websites and t-shirts and concert posters who always had the right cardigan and the right thing to say (even if it was wildly inappropriate).  

Aaron was known for his long, entertaining stories, which he loved to repeat often.

In high school, he was in the band ‘The Asparagus Children’, which reached critical acclaim in the northern suburbs.  

As an adult, he graduated from the College of Visual Arts (which also died an untimely death recently) and worked in several agencies around Minneapolis, settling in as an Interactive Associate Creative Director at Colle + McVoy.  

Aaron was a comic book aficionado, a pop-culture encyclopedia and always the most fun person at any party.

He is survived by his parents, Bill and Kim Kuhlmeyer, father Mark Purmort (Patricia, Autumn, Aly), sisters Erika and Nicole, first wife Gwen Stefani, current wife Nora and their son Ralph, who will grow up to avenge his father’s untimely death.”

A service will be held on December 3, 2014.

William Ziegler passed away on July 29, 2016 at the age of 69 “to avoid having to make a decision in the pending presidential election,” according to the obituary written by Ziegler’s four children.

Ziegler’s obituary also mentions his love for the “morons and mental patients” that he served with as a fireman, sending tasteless internet jokes, potted meat and his “alcoholic dog Judge”.

While this obituary is full of humour, Ziegler’s daughter shared with the Times-Picayune the meaning behind the hilarious obituary saying that her father would always email funny obituaries he found online so that they could have a laugh.

All jokes aside, the obituary ends with a heartfelt, “He will be greatly missed.”

Full Obituary

“William Ziegler escaped this mortal realm on Friday, July 29, 2016 at the age of 69.  We think he did it on purpose to avoid having to make a decision in the pending presidential election.

He leaves behind four children, five grand-children, and the potted meat industry, for which he was an unofficial spokesman until dietary restrictions forced him to eat real food.

William volunteered for service in the United States Navy at the ripe old age of 17 and immediately realized he didn’t much enjoy being bossed around.  He only stuck it out for one war.  Before his discharge, however, the government exchanged numerous ribbons and medals for various honorable acts.

Upon his return to the City of New Orleans in 1971, thinking it best to keep an eye on him, government officials hired William as a fireman.  After twenty-five years, he suddenly realized that running away from burning buildings made more sense than running toward them.  He promptly retired.

Looking back, William stated that there was no better group of morons and mental patients than those he had the privilege of serving with (except Bob, he never liked you, Bob).

Following his wishes, there will not be a service, but well-wishers are encouraged to write a note of farewell on a Schaefer Light beer can and drink it in his honor.

He was never one for sentiment or religiosity, but he wanted you to know that if he owes you a beer, and if you can find him in Heaven, he will gladly allow you to buy him another.  He can likely be found forwarding tasteless internet jokes (check your spam folder, but don’t open these at work).

Expect to find an alcoholic dog named Judge passed out at his feet.  Unlike previous times, this is not a ploy to avoid creditors or old girlfriends.  He assures us that he is gone. He will be greatly missed.”

Published in The Times-Picayune on Aug. 12, 2016.