Lacyn

 
I’m trying to get up the nerve to bring my tape recorder to the funeral home. I’ve heard about EVPs on those ghost shows and I want to find out for myself whether or not they are real. What better place than a funeral home? Maybe I can record something fascinating. We’ll see.

We saw that movie The Fourth Kind on Monday night and it kind of freaked me out about recording stuff. It’s possible that I could record something I don’t want… something menacing or evil. But I doubt I’ll get any evidence of aliens at the funeral home. But seriously, if you want to see an entertaining movie… go see The Fourth Kind. Just be sure to take a buddy with you :)

Has anyone out there ever had any experiences with EVPs? I’d like to hear your thoughts before I get too deep in this undertaking.
 
 
Well, my ride to work was more eventful than I was expecting it to be. I left home early to go purchase a new mouse for my laptop, but I didn’t accomplish that goal. Instead, I’m sitting here in the office of the funeral home waiting for a police officer to walk through my door and speak with me. Here’s how the whole morning circus went down…

Like I said, I left early on my scooter heading for Wal-Mart. A few blocks from my house, I spotted a police car on the shoulder on the left side of the road facing toward me. I slammed on my little scooter brakes because I have a habit of speeding on the road I live on, but I knew I’d been had. When I rolled close, I saw 2 more cop cars parked behind the first and decided they were there for something more than catching speeders.

I slowed down to pass by the 3 cop cars (1 city cop and 2 county sheriff rigs) and proceeded on my merry way to Wal-Mart.

A half-a-block past the policemen, I saw somebody standing smack dab in the middle of the west-bound lane (I was heading east). I say “standing” but it was more of a “bending-over” stance. When I got closer, I saw it was a kid about 13 yrs old in the middle of the road, mooning the policemen.

Is this kid the reason those cops are here? I wondered.

As I got closer to the kid, he proceeded to yell at the cops and laugh, but they weren’t paying any attention to his immature display. I suppose he wanted more attention when he did what he did next, but he got more attention than he bargained for…

As I got closer, the boy pulled up his pants most of the way and reached down to take ahold of his penis. He tugged his pathetic display of boyhood out of his pants and started to shake it at the police officers as he yelled at them. His buddy was on the shoulder of the road laughing his little adolescent ass of.

As I veered around the brats, the perverted boy started to shake his penis at me and yell, “Hey, baby… you want summa this?” or something to that affect, and turned to follow me as I stopped my scooter at the stop sign. Ooooooohhhhh, I was pissed!!!

I flipped a bitch at the intersection and scooted back to the parked police cars as the boys fled down an alleyway.

“Hey, did you see that boy shaking his penis at you!!” I yelled at the cop through my helmet and his window.

He motioned for me to pull over to talk so he could understand what I was screaming about. I told the city cop about the little fucker and described the boy’s hoodie sweatshirt, his jeans, and his penis.

Then the cop got a call over his radio… a sheriff’s deputy spotted the kid and his buddies at the boy’s house.

“Can you go down the block and I.D. him?” the policeman asked me.

“Sure, but I don’t have to I.D. any penises do I?” My humor was lost on the stern-faced cop.

I scooted around the block and stopped where I found the parked sheriff’s rigs. When I pulled my helmet off, I saw that they had a boy matching the description I gave handcuffed and were putting him into the back of an SUV patrol car. The boy’s mother was on the porch crying and yelling at her boy to calm down.

“FUCK YOU, YOU QUEER-ASS MOTHER FUCKERS…!” was what I heard coming from the back seat as I approached the sheriff’s deputy.

“That kid you have in the back… that’s the one. He shook his penis at you guys and at me.” I stated.

That’s when the boy started thrashing around in the back of the SUV… kicking and screaming like a wounded little wombat. They pulled him out and I expected to see the tears of a terrified kid who was only trying to act bad-ass in front of his friends. But there were no tears. Just rage. The little foul-mouthed piece of white trash garbage screamed at the officer holding him by the handcuffs. Except for the words “QUEER,” “FUCK,” and “PUSSY-ASS FAGGOT,” most of it was nonsense. The city cop put him in the back of his patrol rig to go downtown. With the kid under control and his mother freaking out on the front porch, the cops once again approached me.

“You said that was him?”

“Yes,” I said.

“You saw him shaking his penis?”

“Yes.”

“You saw his penis?”

Okay, now this is getting ridiculous. Do I look like an idiot?, I thought before repeating, “Yes.”

“Okay, are you on your way to work? Where do you work? … We’ll need a written statement from you.”

And that’s why I’m here. Waiting with my cell phone by my side so I can issue a statement about the little punk and his little flaccid punk. You bet your ass I’m gonna issue that statement. I will not let such disrespect slide, but not only that, it’ll serve him right to have a police record with documentation stating just how pathetic his penis is :)
 
Happy Halloween? 10/31/2009
 
Hey everyone, there's some creepy stuff happening already this Halloween morning. Click on the link to see

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BkDs_Cbq4No
Or see below

I found the funeral home clock in my bathroom acting up this morning. Spooky? Coincidence? You decide! (I've already made up my mind about it)

Turn up your sound... I had to whisper because Josh is still asleep. HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALEX!!!
 
 
A lot of people think that the worst part of my job has to do with yucky dead bodies or sad families. In all honesty, the part of my job that I dread the most is

DEALING WITH THE DOCTORS!

There’s just no excuse for their behavior sometimes. It’s as if they go out of their way to make death so much more difficult for families and morticians alike.* This is illustrated by a number of common situations:

- It seems as though physicians stop caring about a patient once he/she dies. Permits and death certificates that must be signed get jammed into the bottoms of their piles, and bodies of decedent’s must wait in refrigeration for that oh-so-important signature before disposition can take place

- No matter how many brightly colored stick notes I use on the documents, physicians habitually fail to follow simple instructions and complete both (that’s right… only TWO) documents correctly.

- Physicians clearly aren’t required to take a penmanship class in medical school. Their handwriting is reminiscent of an uncoordinated kindergartener and I am constantly calling their nurses to decipher their “causes of death.” One physician barked at me once when I commented on his horrible writing, “Well, then what you’re gonna have to do is make sure that I read it to you before you leave every time I have to sign one of these.” I wanted to shove his shiny pompous pen up his puckered pompous ass!

- That last point leads into this point… a majority of these physicians are haughty jerk-holes floating around on their holier-than-thou clouds of ostentacity. They are condescending and tend to regard me as some run-of-the-mill receptionist put on this planet to do their bidding.

- With death certificates having very little importance around their offices, physicians often set aside the necessary paperwork to play golf or close their offices early, thus delaying bodies’ disposition that much longer. Maybe one day their own bodies will lie in wait on cold metal refrigerator slabs as some certifying physician attends to more important matters concerning clubhouse cocktails and putting greens.

 


* Dr. Rooney, a recently retired oncology physician, certainly does NOT fall into this category. In my dealings with him, I found him to be an exceptional physician will impeccable (legible) handwriting… very uncommon amongst doctor folk :) I’m sure there are others like Dr. Rooney out there - but I’m using this blog of mine to vent right now…. now for the growl…. GGGRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!
 
 
This is cause for celebration! What do you say, gang? MJ Barleyhoppers for Frightmare on 21st Street Halloween night?
Time to have some fun ;)
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Halloween Fun! 10/19/2009
 
Is it a surprise that Halloween is my favorite holiday!? Well, this Halloween season is gonna be extra, super awesome because my boss is going to let me take the hearse out to Hells Gate State Park this weekend for the Haunted Hay Ride - an annula event for area children/residents. It's gonna be awesome. They want us to dress up like scary embalmers :)

But, as for my personal costume on Halloween night (12 days away), I'm at a dead end. I definitely want a costume that uses my curves to my advantage. I want to be sexy, but not trashy. I also love playing with special-occassion cosmetics. You know... stuff you can't wear any time other than Halloween. Any ideas? Randi-bird is gonna be Wednesday Addams. PERFECT. She totally has the look for it :) Josh wants to be a porn star... goofy, creepy mustache and all.

Whatever I end up being for Halloween, I'm going to document the getting-ready-for-it on Halloween day. That'll be fun :)
 
 
Holy cow, finals had me spread pretty thin this past two weeks. But I wrote an essay about the Legal and Ethical considerations for my profession and submitted it to my business law professor. Following, you will witness my first "A" in my Masters program :)

GRADE: 98.0000

You have submitted an outstanding final essay Lacyn! First, you addressed all the required elements of this assignment but more importantly, you provided a very analytical and thoughtful essay on a subject which most of us care not to think about during our lives. You did a very good job at the outset in describing your background and what brought you into the funeral business. I especially found your description of necessary competencies to be informative.

Most compelling though was your discussion near the end about how a former client was so impressed with your treatment of her deceased husband. You clearly are in a profession where one can make a big difference in the lives of people.  You also write quite well! Let me also note that it has been a pleasure having you in class and I greatly appreciated your active work at the discussion forum. In closing, I wish you the best in your future endeavors and I am also very pleased to say that you earned an overall A in our class Lacyn.
 
 
 
WOOOOHOOOO.... they're here! The Royal Bastards have arrived! Check out my other website for the scooter club:

www.lclonewolves.weebly.com

I'm going to be knighted "Styff Bastard" at the funeral home and Josh is gonna be knighted "Bloody Bastard" at the pet cemetery on Lewiston Hill. The knightings are happening today.

Our Bastard scooter ride is happening tomorrow! SO EXCITING!
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You might recall from an earlier blog post that I have had some eerie issues when it comes to the permanent records we keep on file here at the funeral home. Let me refresh you memory about the very first one...

The owner of this funeral home found me online and imported me from Colorado. My very first day on the job, my boss gave me the tour around the funeral home to show me where things were kept.

There’s a wall in the main office that holds many small card-sized files. Those files are for permanent records. Each record gives vital information and body disposition details on every dead person handled by this mortuary (since the early 1900’s). My boss motioned with his hand to the files and explained their permanent record system to me. I walked up to grab the handle on a small metal file cabinet and pulled out a row of hundreds of records. I picked one and freed it to examine the general home’s record-keeping system.

“Kermit Malcom…” I said as I started to read about the man my fingers had chosen. “That’s funny, he’s got the same last name as the funeral home,” I said to my boss.

“That’s cuz he was my dad. He was the mortician here before me.”

We just kind of stared at each other for a minute and I gingerly slipped Kermit’s record back into the file, trying not to disturb him more than I already did. To this day, my boss just claims that Kermit was letting me know that he’s around watching after me.

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Well, ladies and gents, it happened again today. A man called me from California and sent me on a wild goose chase to find information on some of his relatives from back in the day. In my search for grave descriptions and relatives’ names, I crept down to the mortuary basement to find an old funeral ledger from 1938.

The ledger was about 7 inches thick with old, browned, musty individual death records. It had, itself, decomposed and was falling apart. The only thing holding it together was a bright blue rubber band. I pulled the rubber band off the canvas cover and opened the ledger to a name near the middle:

“Name: Eugene Brower. Occupation: Mortician”

HA! I was beside myself! Mr. Brower started this funeral home, along with my employer’s grandfather, in 1924!!!!

Coincidence? Nope. Not here. Not in this mortuary. I guess ol’ Eugene Brower’s just letting me know that he’s around watching after things too :)
 
 
Wow. Now I thought I had it bad when the drunk pallbearer fiasco went down. HA! That was nothing compared to what funeral director, Joel D. Kerr, had to deal with in the United Kingdom…

They were smack dab in the middle of Mrs. Thornburn’s funeral service. Just after her casket was placed in the hearse and the funeral directors worked to get the procession underway, a mortician from a rival firm, David Wood, snuck into the Rolls Royce funeral coach, stole the keys from the ignition, locked all of the doors and poor dead Mrs. Thornburn inside, and fled on foot throwing the Rolls Royce keys to get rid of the evidence as he ran away!

Guess what…. those poor attendees mourning the loss of Mrs. Thornburn had to wait for over an hour for a solution to the locked hearse problem. Do you know what the solution was? Eventually getting into the coach and ripping apart the walnut dashboard to ‘hot wire’ the hearse for the procession to the cemetery! Very expensive repairs were needed, to say the least.

But why in the world would a mortician crawl to such low levels to enact revenge on a competing firm? Well, Mr. David Wood was angry because he though Mr. Kerr was “poaching” his business. Poaching deer, elk, wolves… yeah, I’ve heard of that. But I NEVER heard of poaching dead people! 

Anyway, Mr. Wood was sentences to 6 months in prison (sentence suspended right now), and the keys to the Rolls Royce hearse haven’t been found :)