baked

Here we are in front of my bodega about 2 years ago – took her to my burger and beer place and succeeded in getting her to eat a few fries.

I’m still trying to make sense of it. It’s hitting me kinda hard.

God bless her, she was funny and strange and wonderful, wasn’t she? I want to honor her memory, she was always so sweet and yet so fierce (in the old sense of the word).

Bye for now, Baked darling. I know in my heart you are at peace. Don’t smoke all the good stuff before I get there, and save me a seat at the bar, there will be a lot to catch up on.

This is so heartbreaking.

Beautiful photo. Was that her previous avatar?

Like a wreck we die to the very core,
as if drowning at the heart
or collapsing inwards from skin to soul…

I can’t believe this. Though I never met her face to face I felt I knew her and was fond of her. I was actually hoping I’d get to meet her in person this July. My God that woman loved to share: Ratbastard and the sabra home wrecker? Her propensity for marrying gay men? The death of Sergio?

I would like to know what happened when and if anyone finds out.

Crap. I had absolutely no idea she was in such poor health. I gave her some grief years ago concerning a comment about Ratbastard and I always hoped someday I’d have the opportunity to apologize to her personally. Maybe in another lifetime.

baked was the first Wonk commentor I had a long internet conversation with via the comments on Wonkette some 8 (!) years ago.

We would “converse” many times over those 3 years before the Mom 1.0 internet riot in 08.

She did go through a lot over the past few years.

I miss her.

Shitpissfuckcuntcocksuckermotherfuckerandtits. (Baked would have appreciated the reference.) In the spirit of ‘bisco’s offering, here is a meditation on death and life that even this avowed secular humanist likes:

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs–
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings

Requiescat in pace, Funny Girl.

She was one of our leading ladies.

A bright light has dimmed, but as long as we remember, it will never be extinguished.

@redmanlaw: And she always will be.

@Benedick: I feel the same way. Remember the year or two that she lived in Israel? What a freakin’ trip that was. My fave story was the time that she assaulted Jon Lovitz at the Beverly Hills Hotel. She was so clever and funny; she always knew the right thing to say.

Somewhere I have a picture of her sleeping with her arm around a roll of toilet paper. I have no idea how that happened. That was only after she took a picture of me drooling in my sleep.

For years I had her “F” key from her most dicked up computer in my wallet.

I saw a picture of her in some crazy shoes. I said I needed them. She sent them to me and told me they were magic.

She sent me books. She wrapped them herself in paper and bows that reminded me of every present I ever received in my life.

She taught me how to play Scrabble.

She told me I was beautiful.

She hugged toilet paper while she slept.

@¡Andrew!: It’s similar. Hers was Sergio running on the beach at sunset.

Remember when she was evacuating her pets in an inflatable kiddie pool? I think she was wearing flippers. Then Brangelina moved in next door and messed up her driveway. Then she moved to Sabra Whore Land, and then she moved back to the beach. She finally came back to Philly.

@Benedick: I think we put pictures of old Miss America costumes on your FB wall on the night of drooling and Charmin hugging.

I thought she’d make it out to New Mexico to shoot guns out in the desert some time. I’ll have to get out and make a joyful noise in her name when I’m able.

I am heartsick. They should dim the lights on Broadway for our funny girl.

ADD: And today’s blurb is what finally made me break down.

I can’t speak.

@Mistress Cynica: Me too.
@JNOV: Beautiful. Big hugs to you.

Relatively speaking, I didn’t know baked very long and, of course, we never met in the flesh, but her death is heartbreaking. I am angry in the face of my own helplessness.

Oh, Bella, where are you?

@JNOV: I was holding it together until I read your comment. Thank you for this lovely tribute.

I never met baked IRL, nor did I interact with her directly very much, but she was such a big personality and such an *alive* person that it’s hard to believe she’s gone. My heart goes out to her family and loved ones. Vaya con Dios on your journey to the other side, sister.

Family requests any donations made to the SPCA or the fight against pancreatic cancer. More detailed info in the sandbox. Those of y’all not on the Book of Faces or scratching in the sandbox can send me an email at sanfranlefty@www.stinque.com for deets.

@blogenfreude: And fuque me, I clicked on your linque there and read baked’s comments on her day in NYC with you, and am now crying.

@Beggars Biscuit: And on that comment string there, you gave her the well wish of “Wishing you double word scores, Fish Called Wanda quotes and gentle island breezes wherever the fuck you be.”

that’s about it. You summed it up, and holy fuck, she loved A Fish Called Wanda.

I’d just like to add that if any of ya’ll are having a tough time, I’m only a text, email, or phone call away. I will fly to see each and every one of you glorious bahstahds if necessary (even to Texa$, and muthurfucker I hate Texa$). I’m here for you because–in our hearts–we’re the same. You are wonderful, special, once-in-a-lifetime people, and you are loved.

@¡Andrew!: <3

The service is today, so take a minute at some time to make a toast (with the cannabis, alcoholic, or non-alcoholic product of your choice) to our funny friend.

@SanFranLefty: Thanks, Leftybehind.

@SanFranLefty: Aye aye, captain!

@SanFranLefty: Did my send off last weekend.

@Benedick: @mellbell: Like any of us need an excuse to raise a martini or joint.

@SanFranLefty: Too true.