The family of an American firefighter decided to commemorate their fatherâs life with one last laugh by penning an obituary riddled with jokes, including jabs at the looming U.S. election, his ex-girlfriends and his odd affinity for âpotted meat.â
In a brief published in New Orleans newspaper The Times-Picayune, William Zieglerâs life was recounted with cheeky flare.
âWilliam Ziegler escaped this mortal realm on Friday, July 29, 2016 at the age of 69. We think he did it on purpose to avoid having to make a decision in the pending presidential election,â the obituary begins.
âHe leaves behind four children, five grand-children, and the potted meat industry, for which he was an unofficial spokesman until dietary restrictions forced him to eat real food.â
The obituary was published earlier in August and has since gained plenty of attention online, including mentions in several international publications.
It goes on to highlight aspects of Zieglerâs life. At 17, he volunteered to serve in the U.S. Navy and âimmediately realized he didnât much enjoy being bossed around,â the obit says. âHe only stuck it out for one war.â
His decision to become a firefighter wasnât exactly his own bidding, according to the piece.
âUpon his return to the City of New Orleans in 1971, thinking it best to keep an eye on him, government officials hired William as a fireman,â the obit reads.
As for Zieglerâs co-workers, the obituary says that âWilliam stated that there was no better group of morons ⌠than those he had the privilege of serving with (except Bob, he never liked you, Bob.)â
In lieu of a funeral service, the obituary asks well-wishers to âwrite a note of farewell on a Schaefer Light beer can and drink it in his honour.â For any friends whom Ziegler may owe an outstanding beer: âIf you can find him in Heaven, he will gladly allow you to buy him another.â
Despite the joking attitude, the obituary ends on a lighter note â after landing one final punchline.
âUnlike previous times, this is not a ploy to avoid creditors or old girlfriends. He assures us that he is gone. He will be greatly missed.â