The Greatest Obituary Of All Time

William Freddie McCullough – BLOOMINGDALE – The man. The myth. The legend. Men wanted to be him and women wanted to be with him. William Freddie McCullough died on September 11, 2013. Freddie loved deep fried Southern food smothered in Cane Syrup, fishing at Santee Cooper Lake, Little Debbie Cakes, Two and a Half Men, beautiful women, Reeses Cups and Jim Beam. Not necessarily in that order. He hated vegetables and hypocrites. Not necessarily in that order. He was a master craftsman who single -handedly built his beautiful house from the ground up. Freddie was also great at growing fruit trees, grilling chicken and ribs, popping wheelies on his Harley at 50 mph, making everyone feel appreciated and hitting Coke bottles at thirty yards with his 45. When it came to floor covering, Freddie was one of the best in the business. And he loved doing it.

Freddie loved to tell stories. And you could be sure 50% of every story was true. You just never knew which 50%. Marshall Matt Dillon, Ben Cartwright and Charlie Harper were his TV heroes. And he was the hero for his six children: Mark, Shain, Clint, Brandice, Ashley and Thomas. Freddie adored the ladies. And they adored him. There isn’t enough space here to list all of the women from Freddie’s past. There isn’t enough space in the Bloomingdale phone book. A few of the more colorful ones were Momma Margie, Crazy Pam, Big Tittie Wanda, Spacy Stacy and Sweet Melissa (he explained that nickname had nothing to do with her attitude). He attracted more women than a shoe sale at Macy’s. He got married when he was 18, but it didn’t last. Freddie was no quitter, however, so he gave it a shot two more times. It didn’t work out with any of the wives, but he managed to stay friends with them and their parents. In between his many adventures, Freddie appeared in several films including The Ordeal of Dr. Mudd, A Time for Miracles, The Conspirator, Double Wide Blues and Pretty Fishes. Freddie was killed when he rushed into a burning orphanage to save a group of adorable children. Or maybe not. We all know how he liked to tell stories. Savannah Morning News September 14, 2013

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I’ve never been more emasculated by an obituary in my life. Everything about this guy was incredible. Just pounding Reeses and Jim Beam, hating vegetables and hypocrites and fucking every chick that ever came across him. That run of women and their nicknames was absolutely fantastic. Momma Margie, Crazy Pam, Big Tittie Wonda. It reminded me of Home Alone 2 when Kevin plays the gangster movie, “You’ve been smoochin’ wit everybody! Snuffy. Al. Leo. Little Moe, with the gimpy leg. Cheeks. Boney Bob. Cliff”. That was Wild Bill, only real life and a thousand times more awesome.

Fucking Freddie, reading his obituary was the most badass thing I’ll do all year. Think about how awesome your life has to be for that to happen. Just reading about his death is better than everything that happens in my real life. Unreal.

Oh and Two and a Half men? Even Babe Ruth struck out sometimes.

PS

If you leave condolences on a random person’s obituary you have to be an absolute psychopath.