Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust

Okay, kids. I know it's been FOR-EV-ER since I posted, and truth be told, with the whole move and everything, I'm still not convinced I have the energy to post . . . HOWEVER, I was up late last night watching late night television (welcome to the world of the newly unemployed), and I somehow happened upon My Strange Addiction on TLC.

Holy Ramona and Beezus!

I totally lucked out, because I had to have caught the most interesting episode, possibly ever . . . and by interesting, I mean interesting like Faces of Death, interesting. I mean, this shit was bananas, b-a-n-a-n-a-s! I've seen some pretty crazy stuff in my day, but I'm pretty sure my mouth was gaping open in horror for the duration of the show. I just couldn't tear myself away, even though it might have been worse than that terrible email my good friend Shy (ol' dependable Shy, who always sends me shit I can never quite erase completely from my brain) sent me (with pictures, of course), about texting whilst driving . . . and that email was bad. You're just going to have to take my word for it

Okay, so enough of the dramatic introduction. This woman's strange addiction was . . . (drumroll please) . . . she eats her dead husband's ashes. Close your mouth; I'm being serious. She. Eats. Her. Dead. Husband's. Ashes. Like, wets her finger, then rolls it around in the bag full of ashes in his urn, then licks every last morsel off of her finger until it's shiny clean. The worst part? She said that they taste like rotten eggs . . . but that hasn't stopped her yet. She samples the Fun Dip about six times a day, and she has already consumed a pound of his ashes; only five pounds remain. Sick yet? I couldn't make this shit up if I tried. See for yourself . . .




. . . As effing disgusting as this story is, I think it's really sad. This woman is obviously unbalanced. I mean, I love my hubs; I really do. And I'm sure that if I [God forbid] lost him in some sort of freak accident/health emergency, that I would probably go off the rails for a little while. But I'm pretty sure I wouldn't carry his ashes around with me everywhere I went. I definitely wouldn't cook meals for him; I barely do that now! The thing is, I actually feel kind of sorry for her . . . but I just can't wrap my mind around how she got there. I do understand not wanting to brush off your husband's ashes like random dirt or dust, but to eat them? That would never even occur to me.

I just had to share that tasty little morsel with you. I hope to be back on track with my daily posts sooner than later. There definitely hasn't been a shortage of things to talk about! I'll check in soon, I promise. xo