Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Final Destination: The TJ Maxx in the sky.

Crystal Dawn Tonya Beavers, also known as Madame Sunday but not to be confused with the Ms. Chattavegas Watermelon Queen 1997 Tonya Dawn Crystal Beavers, passed away unexpectedly on January 3, 2011 at the age of 30.  She was the sometimes sober yet always saucy creator of the "content" for the blog of infinite wonders you are reading now.  She will be missed.  If not already forgotten.

After descending to the earth on moonbeams and angel wings she was then born by crawling out from under the rock and raised on white bread and contempt in the inbred hills of northwest Georgia.   There was school, more school, a different kind of education involving happy hours and craigslist before she finally settled into a career of designing pretty things.  Or ugly things depending on who you talk to.  The Madame was a member of a local book club, the Ace Hardware rewards program and was a regular attendee of Friday Night Margarita Showdown.  She enjoyed eating queso, reading, shopping at thrift stores and bitching about all sorts of things.

Authorities have been able to piece together the series of events that ultimately led to the tragedy.  Apparently in an attempt to recreate the wood stuffed firebox [shut up] pictured below,
the Madame was attempting to chop logs in the backyard using a rusty handsaw.  At some point several fingers met the business end of that handsaw either accidentally or perhaps in a weird attempt to recreate the final scenes from The Piano.  It appears that she attempted to reattach the appendages with some duct tape and gauze after pouring some 'tussin in it.  None of that seemed to work and Crystal Dawn was found passed out by the mailbox from lack of blood where a neighbor found her incoherently mumbling about when the latest issue of Domino magazine would be delivered.  On the way to the hospital the ambulance sadly crashed into a tree trying to avoid a band of stampeding Unicorns.  Madame Sunday, the sole survivor, crawled from the wreckage only to be impaled by a rogue Unicorn racing to catch up with the pack.  Bleeding, fingerless and glittery she crawled to find help which happened to be a nearby liquor store probably because of the internal homing device implanted several yeas ago.  However, in a desperate attempt to flag down the store clerk a display of boxed wine was toppled over and buried her beneath an avalanche of Franzia.  Several crews uncovered her to find her barely alive (and drunk) but on the way to the hospital for the second time that day she finally went home to be with Michael Jackson.  The autopsy revealed she did not in fact die from any injuries sustained during the day but from an overdose of toxic glue purchased at the Dollar General that was used for a recent at-home vajazzling attempt.  "She always was a cheap bastard" said friends who usually get stiffed on the bill on Friday Night Margarita Showdowns.

Madame Sunday is survived by a (now relieved) cat Charlemagne and every Sassy Gay Friend in the tri-state area.  Services will be held on Tuesday at the Fuji House for dollar sushi night so diners can also pay their respects.  There will be no graveside service as the Madame's ashes will be scattered in the parking lot of TJ Maxx.

In lieu of flowers the family asks that you send donations to the "Stop piling dirty spider-ridden dead pieces of wood around your house" fund.  

It's a sad day on the interwebs.  Go read all the other obituaries in the latest Let's Blog Off challenge. 


  1. how can an ugly death be so vajazzling?? would duct tape work for bedecking too? brilliantly sick, Madame... who is it today??.. crystal dawn. yup, death by vajazzling, completely believable.

  2. Not quite sure an obituary would actually read that way, but it would be fun to see something like that every now and again!

  3. 30.. and I only had one margarita tonight :-) What would Charlemagne the cat play with if there were no more spiders in the dead wood? She'd move on to fighting dogs, that's what! Pretty soon she would be knocking over Dollar Generals for her fix of glue. A little compassion for the mutts you leave behind. Save the spiders....

  4. HA the cat is a he, isn't he? The order is already breaking down...

  5. Hilarious... always the sauce... bahaha.

  6. I'm rendered speechless. Not even my most uninterrupted streams of goofy consciousness could I ever concoct such a magnificently bizarre series of events.

    However, if I had to change anything, I would replace stampeding unicorns with team of announcing John Maddens. At least your final fleeting minutes could be incoherently commentated and the telestrator use would be fantastically irrelevant.

  7. 'Bleeding, fingerless and glittery' It may be violent and painful, but at least it's glittery. Wow! What a great obituary. I hope that's not actually the way it plays out for you, though.

  8. What a fantabulous way to go is all I have to say! Next time I'm at TJ Maxx, I will remember Ms Beavers with reverent fondness as I peel out of the parking lot, sending her glittering ashes over the wind.

  9. Cindy - I don't trust all these newfangled ways of jazzing up your vajayjay. Simple is best that's why duct tape always works. (but not anywhere near your vajayjay.)

    Joseph - Actually I googled all the things to actually put in an obit and stayed true to the form! Some details may have been embellished... (and I was't talkin 'bout the vajayjay this time)

    Dogwalkblog - Charlemagne is a diva girl kitty. I used a dude's name because she just needed a name with power. Gawd help the dumb vet techs try to pronounce it when I take her in. And yes - she'll fuck a mutt up.

    Tabitha - I aim to please. Even in death!

    Jamey - it's a gift. or curse. One of the two... And if I was going to choose death by unicorn or death by John Maddens I'd be batshit crazy to NOT pick unicorns. WTF is wrong with you???!!! ; )

    Energyvanguard - glittery makes up for ALL pain and violence! And secretly I do kinda hope to go out that way... Better than just old age. Boooorrriiinnng!

    Chamois - go forth and shop proudly in my glittery honor!!

  10. Saucey, we hardly knew ye. Or truth be told, we knew an awful lot. Awful. Lot. TMI was your specialty. You set a standard which will be hard to equal - my glitterometer can't calibrate that low - oh, just forget the Equal, let's go for straight-up gleaming sugary whiteness. Your deathly pallor must have been a site for sore angel eyes, blinding in its lost innocence. Where can we turn for design-on-a-dimebag advice now? A sad, sad day...

  11. I have been hiding in my bunker in Martelle lately, only occasionally popping my head out, to see if I can see my shadow. Today I noticed some chatter on twitter and decided to pop over and see what all of the fuss was about.

    I am deeply saddened by the loss of Madame Sauce, though I look forward to her future posts from beyond the grave. I have always suspected that her spectacular wit was only surpassed by her haunting beauty, perhaps her ghost will confirm this for us all.

    R.I.P My friend.

  12. I'm still trying to figure out how to raise a kid on both white bread and contempt! ;-)

  13. Darn! And just when I'd maxed out my annual contribution to the Anti dead wood spider haven fund, too.


  14. Absolutely hilarious. And educational -- I was previously unaware of vajazzling. Do you think it will catch on? While I'm asking questions, how did you get into the Ace Rewards Program? And why am I asking a dead chick all of this stuff?

  15. Rich - lost innocence does seem to sparkle more. I think it's the contrast against all that delicious filth that really sets it off.

    Extremely Average - I'm glad to see you out of your bunker but sad it came at such an unfortunate time. And you bet your ass I'll be haunting this blog! But my ghost will be missing fingers and a hole through the middle thanks to that damn unicorn so there's that...

    Steve - start slow! I suggest just working on being passive aggressive and then build up to shaming before contempt. You can't be a master immediately! It's a process.

    Becky - Gawd your bleeding heart liberal tendencies are really getting in the way of my living and all... ; )

    David - Vajazzling is pretty popular (if you're a stripper) but I think someone should make a PSA against them in my name. I lived to help others. Just like I'm telling you to absolutely join the Ace rewards program even though there aren't any stores in Switzerland. I care that much. And I'm haunting this blog.

  16. What I want to know is, are you now in Hell or Heaven? Or a discussion group somewhere? It's just that I haven't decided yet if I want to totally suck up and be your BFF in the undead world of the afterlife. And is your unicorn done with that head horn thing yet? My imaginary twin is getting lonely.

  17. Alexandra - I think I'm in some sort of blogger purgatory. If I don't bring more readers I'll never get to heaven.

    Your imaginary twin is a dirty slut.

  18. Madame Sunday is most certainly in heaven, where Refreshing White Franzia--or perhaps Chablis--falls like rain; where thrift stores are always stocked with fabulous--yet extraordinarily cheap--vintage furniture and home décor; where white rooms populated by chili-and-dark-chocolate-eating humans and black-furred cats continue for all eternity without any stains; where gardeners and weekend warriors use industrially-designed, color-striped yard tools; where bunnies in gas masks hop between serpents of feathers; and where everyone lives in a tree house of insanity.

  19. I cannot believe you'd take Unicorns over John Maddens. I know you're going to be cremated, but let's assume for one second that your survivors (Charlemagne & Friends) ignored your dying wishes and went with a traditional burial. However, the deliberation over plot location, casket, etc. carried out for weeks. Meanwhile, Ms. Saucy Pants is chilling at the funeral home. Unicorn death = body riddled with holes & quite stinky. Enter nomadic pack of John Maddens, and you are looking at fungus free after life thanks to the power of BOOM, Tough Actin' Tinactin. Given the choice, I'll take that monster of a bumbling man over a unicorn in a heartbeat.

  20. Jamey - I died by vajazzling!!!! It's like you didn't even read the post... : ( Also I think you have a hard-on for John Madden. Just sayin.

    PS - Unicorns are naturally anti-bacterial. duh.

  21. I realize that. I actually re-read it to be sure of that, but went with it anyways. Who doesn't have a hard-on for John Madden? That's what I want to know. I'll have words with him/her.

  22. "However, the deliberation over plot location, casket, etc. carried out for weeks."

    Jamey, imagine this length of time, and then triple it.

    This saucy lady was the barycenter of an entire gay universe of fabulosity. Her glitter force attracted gays at a rate unparalleled in the natural world, resulting in the fiercest gayety ever recorded. The incredible concentration of pretentious hors d’oeuvres and copious wine meant that nothing could escape its sashaying ways, not even a ballcap-wearing, beer-toting, four-wheeler-driving tea partier. It was said that a straight approaching too near the circuit party horizon would be swished up never to be seen at football games again.

    With her passing now come to pass, this gay galaxy will queen out—an incredible Super! Nova. By the time all the tears have been shed, all the bitches have been cut, all the chicken-heading has ceased, and all of the fabulous plans have been made, the vajazzled madame--apart from her rhinestones--will have ceased to be, the ultimate no-expectations exit.

  23. Barycenter is an f'n awesome word! Using it, while referencing event horizons, AND rhinestone embellished boxes - freakin' genius.

    I fully expect a phoenix-like rebirth for you MS (such fabulosity as yours couldn't possibly be fully spent in a single lifetime).

    Well played...

  24. It's getting late as I leave this reply, but having read of your ghastly demise, I'm afraid to lay down lest I dream of impaling unicorns.

  25. Zrzuce - It was fun while it lasted... I hope there's plenty of chicken-heading in the TJ Maxx in the sky because my afterlife won't be complete without it. I think we should work on a murder suicide pact because I really don't want my afterlife to exist without the fiercest gayety ever recorded in heaven OR earth. ; )

    Izzy - ahahahaha!! Restraining myself from all the 'black hole' and ASSymptotic jokes running through my head. Must.... hold.... back....

    Collier - Hope you made it through your night safely! I think if you get impaled with a unicorn in your dreams it means you'll have a lucky day when you wake up... or something like that... Welcome to the sauce!!