what a bunch of assholes. Hope grandma haunts them (like really haunts them, recruits some of those demons you see on ghost shows that chuck stuff at them and cause bodily harm). Apples don’t fall far from the tree and even dying people can be dicks so i bet she’s up for it.
He said she was “dieing”, not dead, folks. This is probably the last photo they’ll have with her. Why does that make them assholes? They cared enough to place her in what appears to be a hospice for her last days. Posting the pic on Facebook and pointing out the obvious? Awkward, but not really Lamebook material IMHO.
If you want to see a bunch of 19th century “assholes”, try typing “post-mortem photos” into Google. Those folks really ARE dead, but back then it made sense with photography still a new, expensive technology.
I have to agree that I’m not seeing the trashiness or assholishness here. While they are not the most attractive family ever, they do appear to be a decent and loving family. Other than for Ryan’s comment about being stoned at the time (but whatever gets you through the grief, buddy), this is quite respectful.
I know Ryan is the reason this is on Lamebook, sloppysquirrel. Yes, he’s a dickhead, and I was (half) joking about him, but I was talking more about how I see this picture. I don’t see trashy assholes. The old lady has what appears to be a caring family around her in her last hours, which is way more than what many dying people have.
The fact that they are all smiling may seem a little odd to some, but maybe they didn’t want their last picture with her to be a sad one. Or maybe I’m completely wrong, and they’re all happy that she’s finally checking out because she’s a nasty old crone who gave them all a life of misery. Or maybe she’s rich, and they’re happy because they’re about to inherit her money so they can go get those extreme makeovers that most of them need. Or maybe they’re all happy because they’re all baked. You could be onto something there, ahat.
Enjoy your holiday weekend, American Lamebookers. Some of us elsewhere bastards still have to work.
My son died when he was born. We took pictures with him. Even though it was hard, I still needed a picture with him in it and me smiling. I look back on that picture and I smile, I don’t cry. Smiles don’t always mean happiness.