Recently Bossy and her friend Martha were taking one of their three hundred mile walks when Martha spied a Pet Cemetery built into the side of a hill. Of course Bossy didn’t notice the Pet Cemetery because she was too busy wondering if anyone has ever died from shin splints.
So Bossy and her friend Martha trudged up the hill and stood reverently in front of each grave marker — and you know what they decided? People are out of their fecking minds.
The fifth marker tells just how I feel after our walk, Bossy. MeeeOW!
Oh, so Satan DIED. Now they tell us.
Charcoal lasted a long time for a stick insect.
those names put frank zappa to shame. they’re wacky.
Technically, your post should be entitled, “Who Has More Fun Than us Gravestone Engravers?” But it doesn’t have the same Hamlet-esque associations. Just sayin.’
This cemetery must, MUST be in California. Yes?
I went to school with a Candy Carmel AND a Candy Cotton. WTF?
There’s a pet cemetery sort of near my house (actually it’s near my closest Trader Joe’s). The first time I saw it, I thought it was the weirdest graveyard ever – the stones were all SO CLOSE TOGETHER. Then I realized it was for pets. Hysterical.
The last entry made me think of this:
A close friend of mine in France has a dog called ‘Lucifer.’ Since my birth name is Jennifer and I Love Lucy, I like to be known to that set of amis as ‘Lucyfer.’
Did these people run out of room in their back yards? That’s just strange.