calvinistic cartoons blog: funeral

Showing posts with label funeral. Show all posts

Sunday, 9 October 2011

Investigation of Benny Finney Funeral

click on photo to enlarge if you really feel you have to

I suspected something afoot when I heard Benny Finney's funeral was to be held at the Harry Houdini Funeral Home in Denmark, Ohio. Knowing that the funeral director was a fan of Calvinistic Cartoons, I had him snap a photo of the coffin that was being used.

Upon further investigation I spotted this detail (see photo) showing that this coffin was once the property of David Blaine, the magician.

Something is rotten in Denmark and it ain't Benny Finney's body!

Funeral director, Fritz Langella, skyped me said that "Benny Hinn arrived and demanded that the doors be locked so that his faith could be free to work without hindrance from unbelief. He handed every funeral staff member a hundred dollar bill and told us to go buy a burger. His bodyguards were pretty mean looking so we headed on out for lunch. Benny Hinn told us that we should expect a miracle when we return."

Can you believe this crazy stuff?

Friday, 7 October 2011

Arminian Antics #70

Friday, 31 July 2009

The Journal of Cotton Adams #21

September 15, 1739

Conducted the funeral for Mitzi Bloom, one of the greatest cooks this side of the Mississippi. Her baking business had so many faithful followers. They all had gathered to wish her the final farewell today. At her request I sang a song she had written to her two best friends and business companions, Tina Martinez and Marge Marginheimer:

Don't Cry For Me Marge and Tina:
It won't be easy
You'll think it strange
When I try to explain how I feel
That I still need your dough
After all that I've done
You won't believe me
All you will see
Is a gal you once knew
Although she was baking a pie
And several muffins and cakes

I had to let it happen
I had to bake
Couldn't stay all my life washing dishes
Looking out of the window
Staring out at the sun
So I chose cooking
Running around trying everything new
But nothing impressed me at all
Until I tasted your rolls.

Don't cry for me Marge and Tina
The cake walks will continue
Keep frying chicken
Make mashed potatoes
Serve hot with butter
Please use the skillet.

There was not a dry eye at the grave site. The supper afterwards was fit for Heaven.

Monday, 20 July 2009

The Journal of Cotton Adams #15

August 11, 1739

One who had adorned the Gospel in life and in death, the deacon Vernon Smeengy, having desired that I should preach his funeral sermon, had instructions waiting by the way of a sealed letter. I went with a few friends to the house, which was filled with well nigh two hundred or more, and sang the song he had requested. As his body lie in peaceful repose, the church band, which consisted of fife, drum and upright bass started to play. They were there to accompany me as I sang this upbeat, finger-snapping, foot-stomping number. He desired to see it published and had me promise to record them for all to see. A man of my word, here are the words to his death song:

This old house once knew my children
This old house once knew my wife
This old house was home and shelter as we fought the storms of life
This old house once rang with laughter
This old house heard many shouts
Now she trembles in the darkness when the lightnin' walks about

This old house is getting shaky
This old house is getting old
This old house lets in the rain and
This old house lets in the cold
On my knees I'm getting chilly
But I feel no fear or pain
'Cause I see an angel peeking through
A broken window pane

Now my old hound dog lies asleeping
He don't know I'm gonna leave
Else he'd wake up by the fireplace
And he'd sit there, howl and grieve
But my hunting days are over
I ain't gonna hunt the 'coon no more
Gabriel done brought in chariot
When the wind blew down the door

Ain't gonna need this house no longer
Ain't gonna need this house no more
Ain't got time to fix the shingles
Ain't got time to fix the floor
Ain't got time to oil the hinges
Nor to mend the window pane
Ain't gonna need this house no longer
I'm getting ready to meet the saints

At the close of my sermon I asked, "If there be anyone here who knows any reason why this man should not be buried today, let them speak now or forever hold their peace."
We buried him, as per his request, in a casket shaped like the Ark of the Covenant.

Monday, 6 July 2009

The King of Pop Rocks Passes

First we had the "King of Rock", Elvis, die back in 1977. Then, a few days ago the "King of Pop" passes away, and now Shelby Boysenberry, a Calvinist sewing machine repairman and self-proclaimed "King of Pop Rocks" dies of internal combustion. He was 63 years old and ate only Pop Rocks for the last twenty two years.

His autobiography was written six years ago, but because of his confusion, he wasn't even in it. The autobiography was the story of a car.

Shelby became a Calvinist after listening to R. C. Sproul speak at a Dairy Queen in Manitou Springs.

Mr. Boysenberry recorded an album of Pop Rock tunes but, the audio was too irritating to listen to since he refused to stop eating Pop Rocks as he sang.

He will be buried today at Moonchaka Pines Seminary.

R. C. Sproul will not be attending his funeral since he really didn't know him.