He’s really laughing from his grave.
An Arizona man named Randall Jacobs, who died earlier this month at age 65 “having lived a life that would have sent a lesser man to his grave decades earlier,” according to his obituary, received a proper sendoff in that tribute — one that matches his badass nature.
Known as “Uncle Bunky” or “The Bunkster,” his obit highlights how “he spoke in a gravelly patois of wisecracks, mangled metaphors and inspired profanity that reflected the Arizona dive bars, Colorado ski slopes and various dodgy establishments where he spent his days and nights.”
The obit, which was uploaded to Twitter on Wednesday, quickly went viral with over 100,000 likes as of Thursday. “He was a living, breathing ‘hang loose’ sign, a swaggering hybrid of Zoni desert rat, SoCal hobo and Telluride ski bum,” it reads.
Fittingly, Uncle Bunky had a wealth of “Bunky-ism” sayings, like “Save it, clown!” as well as “Zeebo” if he was in a mood, and teasing his “goombatz” nephews with nicknames including “mud flap.” His biggest piece of advice? “Do what Bunky say. Not what Bunky do.”
A Brooklyn artist named Chris Santa Maria identified himself as Uncle Bunky’s nephew and author of the obituary, which appeared in the Arizona Republic, when the tweet began its viral spread. In one comment, where a Twitter user asks him to say more about “this antihero,” he shares more about his uncle’s antics.
“[One] time he tried to pick me up from elementary school in his sh - - tty ’70s era Buick LeSabre (a k a The Sled) by revving the engine and hollering expletives out the window. The kids were so terrified, they asked a teacher to make sure I wasn’t getting kidnapped,” he writes.
The nephew adds that on his last day of fourth grade, Uncle Bunky played him a cassette tape of Alice Cooper’s “School’s Out” before shooting a potato from a homemade cannon. And that summer, Uncle Bunky pulled a sawed-off shotgun from the trunk of the sled (adding it was “hot,” which Santa Maria didn’t understand at the time), before igniting gunpowder on the ground while listening to Metallica.
On another occasion, Santa Maria says, “he took me to my first NASCAR race where we snuck into the Dewalt promo tent and got kicked out because we started shotgunning Busch beers and snagging all the schwag.”
Even though Uncle Bunky had “chaotic energy and hysterical charm,” per his obituary, Santa Maria wrote that “he had a gentle soul.” Still, a night out with him would inevitably lead to a “world-class hangover.”
Acknowledging the viral spread of his obit, Santa Maria says he wishes his uncle “could’ve seen all this love, but unfortunately that’s not how this all works, is it?”
Before passing away, Jacobs left the world just one more Bunkyism: “I’m ready for the dirt nap, but you can’t leave the party if you can’t find the door.”
In lieu of flowers, the family asks that you pay someone’s open bar tab, smoke a bowl of weed and “fearlessly carve out some fresh lines through the trees on the gnarliest side of the mountain.”