funniest/oddest death you witnessed.

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PortalStormzzzz

PortalStormzzzz

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Kind of an odd question but, what is the funniest and or oddest death you've witnessed?

My grandmother died on the day I graduated from Grammar School AND her last known words were "You son of a bitch, I want to go home" -Aprox. 1 hour before she died in her sleep in my home.
 
/kneejerk "Death is not funny" reaction.

Actually, I haven't actually witnessed any deaths.
 
I walked in on a friend masterbating and he died just when he jizzed, but with a suprised look on his face.
 
Funniest?

I've never witnessed any deaths let alone multiple funny deaths competing for funniest.
 
Vegeta897 said:
Funniest?

I've never witnessed any deaths let alone multiple funny deaths competing for funniest.
Click to expand...

Lol exactly.
OP makes it seem like we witness one everyday, and occasion we witness a really funny one. :P
 
I witnessed the death of Rock and Roll.



It was ****ing hilarious.
 
Do they have to be ones you've personally witnessed? Because all the firsthand deaths I've seen haven't been funny. That's sort of a strange thing to think about...I've never seen a funny death in person.

But uh, other deaths...well I can't get through those Faces of Death movies without laughing my head off. I think the funniest one was watching someone get hit by a train and go flying. That's why they say stand back from the yellow line, don'tchaknow?
 
I've never seen a person die, nor seen the body of a dead person.
 
I have a friend who was driving home and had he gone a bit faster would have had a pheasant fly into him via his window. That would've been a pretty good way to go...
 
This doesnt really fit in but my fishy died on Christmas Day.....I've always kinda laughed at the irony.
 
Think I might've seen a funny death on TV or something random. Not ever seen a real death.
 
Heh, anyone remember that old lady who died because a banana fell from a building and lacerated her skin? (She was allergic to bananas and had been a WWII survivor.)
 
I find it rather striking that very few of you have ever witnessed even one, single death in your lifetimes. Hunh.

Perhaps it speaks that I have seen so much of it in my own lifetime that to those of you who have not seen any, it seems strange from my own point of view.
 
I've experienced death, as in someone I know has died. But I haven't watched them die personally. Nearest I've come to seeing someone die is behind a monitor.
 
Ooh!

So I've got lupus (SLE, wiki it if you can be bothered), and I spend a lot of time in hospital. One night my friend Sam and I went to see a movie, and I started having chest pains. "Oh well" I thought. Alas an hour later I was doubled over in pain.

Anyway I was in A&E, and feeling much better, so I got up and wondered out of my cubicle, which was next door to 3 others, all 3 walled little rooms with curtains as doors. I stood in the hallway waiting for a doctor, and suddenly I heard a gasp.

Some VERY very old woman had put her robe on backwards (so the slit was in the front), so she was practically naked, you could see everything, and fallen through the curtain backwards. She was lying on her back, and the doctors soon realised she was dead. I have no idea what happened, I was pretty shocked and it was about 3AM so I was a bit tired and emotional, so I was all "OH MY GOD OH MY GOD".

So yeah that was pretty weird.
 
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Darwin_Awards


Examples of Darwin award winners include

juggling active hand grenades (Croatia, 2001),[6]

jumping out of a plane to film skydivers without wearing a parachute (U.S., 1987),[7]

trying to get enough light to look down the barrel of a loaded gun using a cigarette lighter (U.S., 1996),[8]

using a lighter to illuminate a fuel tank to make sure it contains nothing flammable (Brazil, 2003), (This method is not entirely original: a mid-1950's Burma-Shave commercial reads:"He lit a match to check a tank. That's why they call him Skinless Frank.")

attempting to play Russian roulette with a semi-automatic pistol that automatically reloads the next round into the chamber,[9]

crashing through a window and falling to your death in trying to demonstrate that the window is unbreakable,[10]
Click to expand...
 
My dad's fiance died of cancer. She suffered and then died.

HILARIOUS.




Asshole.
 
Raziaar said:
My dad's fiance died of cancer. She suffered and then died.
Click to expand...
Cancer deaths are perhaps among the worst to watch, because they're so drawn out. Every little complication, every trip to the hospital, everything becomes so blown out. And you watch a person struggle to do what they no longer can, because of pain or disability.

My grandfather died of cancer. His birthday would've been yesterday, November 28. It's rather strange that two of the three deaths I've witnessed have been of people who were born in November. In fact I cannot even place the birthdate of the third person I've seen, because he was a complete stranger--he may have been born in the eleventh month as well, for all I know.

This is a thread for funny deaths, but in light of the fact that very few people have seen a death at all, I'll somber you with one of my own stories.

My grandfather always struck me as unapproachable. A former Marine, even though he was kind and extremely family-oriented, he was gruff, and it always put me off about him. I loved the man, but damn if he didn't intimidate me. I didn't spend much time with him because of it--I showered more affection on my grandmother, and gave only polite courtesy to my grandfather because, on those occassions when I would speak to him, it always seemed as if he wasn't too receptive or I wouldn't get the intended response. I remember once trying to show him a war game I picked up, to which I got a sarcastic, chastising remark; I hadn't really understood it then as a child, but even after I grew up his personality had already formed in my head. So I didn't spend much time with him.

He made some efforts to see me on my birthdays toward the end, before we knew he even had cancer, but I was always out. He never called ahead of time; they were spontaneous visits in which he'd drag my grandma along to see me, but I was never home, I was always out celebrating elsewhere. More missed opportunities.

The cancer took his larynx. He could no longer speak, and could no longer ingest food through his mouth. He was fed through a tube connected to his stomach. There was a gaping hole in his throat that most people couldn't look at; I could look at it, but I didn't very often, because I didn't look at my grandfather very often.

Every time there was a scare, an emergency, my family would rush off to the hospital. My mother was devoted to her father; she was the daddy's girl. Because I couldn't very well let her go alone, I came in tow. Every time at the hospital my family would be huddled in the waiting room, consoling each other and praying that today would not be his last. It may have been rather callous of me but I would always say, "He's fine," then go off on my own to watch people move about. I love hospitals, the atmosphere and the movement, but I digress. I was going off to watch these things, not the least bit concerned for my grandfather's safety because--inevitably--he'd be released. He'd live another day.

He seemed fine, that last time I saw him in the hospital. Adamant to go home, downright laying all that gruff attitude and command on the doctors to LET HIM GO HOME that night. He outright refused to stay another night in the hospital. Because he knew.

And I knew. This was one time the family wasn't worried, because he seemed fine. He seemed in fairly good spirits, for grandpa, even though he showed none of it to the doctors. He just kept insisting to them, and his family, that he wanted to go home. Everyone else assumed it was just because he was tired of the damn place.

When I stepped out of the elevator onto the second floor where his room was, it felt like I had been hit in the gut. My mother, and my youngest cousin, advanced ahead of me, oblivious, while I hung back for a moment, trying to understand what'd just hit me. It was like a shroud, not cold, not black, but deep, infinitely deep, that winded me, doubled me over. And for the first time in all the times he had been in the hospital, I knew. And he knew.

We stayed the night at my grandparents'. My sister begged my mother to stay, so the family was all together now that grandpa was home again. "You're here anyway," she reasoned. My aunt and my cousins were living with my grandparents. The hospital staff wheeled my grandfather and his white plastic bed into the living room and departed. We all smiled and crowded around grandpa, made some jokes about how he was happy to be home--but I didn't say anything. I just...smiled.

"Don't you want to say anything to your grandfather?" my mother asked me, though that might not be verbatim. I smiled at him, forgot what I said, but I averted my eyes. I took only a fleeting glance at him, used my cousin's (a different cousin, one the same age as I) retreat up to his room as an excuse to go up myself. My cousin couldn't stand to look at my grandfather because they'd been so close. I couldn't look at my grandfather with anything meaningful to say because we hadn't been.

The only thing we'd shared recently was the knowledge that he was going to die.

And the next morning, when I awoke, he did.

I have never shed a tear for my grandfather, but damned if I did not love the man.
 
This thread is in incredibly bad taste.

I watched my aunt die. Death really isn't pretty.

-Angry Lawyer
 
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