Louis "Lou" Gagliardi / Ash Franzetti / Alex 'Ace' Maddox / Tegan Ainsley / Taryn Amita / Diana / gothickitteh / gothickitty / Lynn Brooks / @acekatt - #T R A M S _ C R O W _ F U N D *buys 12 iPads* "Anyone got $600 they can spare?" *spits on cancer patient*

[Boys Club Rhetoric]

I gotta give Lou a tiny bit of credit - a dead cat is a good grift idea. No one wants to be the asshole publicly accusing him of lying about a beloved pet dying, and certainly no one wants to demand picture proof, because who wants to see that?

That being said, given how often Lou has assaulted everyone's retinas with his feet pics, I'm somewhat surprised he hasn't started tweeting dead cat pics.

Please don't tell me he's tweeted dead cat pics

 

[Iron Hamster]

What gets me is if one is really named 'big mac', how is the other not named 'whopper' or 'fries'?

No one wants to be the asshole publicly accusing him of lying about a beloved pet dying

I have no problem being an asshole.

 

[Great Dane]

"Mad" isn't the word I'd use to describe how people feel about Louie. "Disgusted" and "burnt-out" are far more apt descriptions for people's feelings about Louie Lard-ass the Greedy Grifter. Disgusted because of his naked greed, his lies, and the manipulative tactics he uses, and burnt-out because it is constant and never ending. No one wants to be in contact with someone who is always, ALWAYS mooching for money and being a manipulative, guilt-tripping asshole when he doesn't get his way. It just sucks away your energy.

And I guarantee you the whole "My cat is DEAD!" thing will be his new grifting tactic for the next month or so. It probably finally dawned on Louie that his foot boo-boo wasn't going to cut the mustard anymore, so he's shifting the narrative to dead burger cat. I'll bet one of two things happened: There is no dead cat and Louie made it all up, or there was a dead cat but it's not Louie's, but it gave him the idea for his new grift.

The foot is still being used for e-begging, along with the dead cat.

https://twitter.com/acem58/status/1297563699373277184

Ace on Twitter: "https://t.co/V0jBeCiFF6… "

archived 23 Aug 2020 16:57:18 UTC

archive.md

After previously planning to vote for Biden, Ace changes her mind again

https://twitter.com/acem58/status/1297561200285356034

Ace on Twitter: "All the more reason not to vote for joe. #centrism c…

archived 23 Aug 2020 16:59:11 UTC

archive.md

https://twitter.com/acem58/status/1297577370526846978

Ace on Twitter: "those toxic #BidenBros sure don't like it when you t…

archived 23 Aug 2020 17:00:01 UTC

archive.md

 

[SIGSEGV]

No one wants to be the asshole publicly accusing him of lying about a beloved pet dying, and certainly no one wants to demand picture proof, because who wants to see that?

I could be that asshole, but that'd be poking the cow.

 

[Norman B. Normal]

Then there's just some weird distractions that don't make sense. Maybe he repurposed art, but the player on the cover is a lion while the one in story is a wolf.

All of the stories and art in the program are about animals playing baseball. The art is not related to the stories.

If I wrote this, which I wouldn't because I would need to suffer extreme brain trauma before I'd write a furry short story,

You wouldn't. But I would.

Spoiler: "New Ball Game" As Reimagined by Norman B. Normal

It was all over the news. The biggest event this century!

Kylie Williams shivered in anticipation as she settled into her second-deck seat at PNC Park in Pittsburgh. Anticipation, yes… but anticipation of what? After all, not everyone had looked forward to this day as the young fox had. Anthros theoretically had equal rights under the Constitution, but no anthro really believed that. Anthros were still poorer than humans, lived in worse neighborhoods, faced more discrimination in the workplace, and died younger. A lot of humans didn’t want to acknowledge it, but it was true.

And of course there was the one door that no one could deny remained closed as others opened. Until now, no anthro had ever played for a human sporting league. Humans were full of reasons for this. Most just talked about differences in size and strength between human athletes and the larger anthros. A few just went full racist and talked about anthros being too different, or not smart enough to keep up. Whatever the reasons, they had kept anthros confined to their own leagues for decades, the players traveling between second-tier cities on Greyhound buses (o, the irony!) and staying in cheap motels.

Until now. Until today. Kylie bought a program from a passing vendor. Tim "Mad" Maddox was on the cover, a handsome wolf with a thick neck and powerful biceps. The Pirates had signed the left-fielder to a one-game tryout and put him in the starting lineup. He was about to become the first anthro to play in a human major league.

It was a naked publicity stunt, intended to calm the firestorm of controversy that had erupted when the team owner was recorded at a fundraising dinner telling raunchy jokes about the sexual prowess of tigresses. But Maddox and his slugging had led the Memphis Marauders to the Anthro Series three years running, winning twice. If anyone could make the case for anthros in the major leagues, he could.

Unless he failed, in which case the door might shut again for another quarter century.

Kylie was shaken from her reverie as the crowd rose around her for the start of the national anthem. Standing up, she looked around the stands. The Pirates, twenty-six games out of first place with sixty games left to play, had trouble filling the seats on the best of days, but the stadium was packed today. Anthros made up about four percent of the population, but comprised at least twenty percent of the spectators here. Kylie looked around her at the humans. How many of them want to see Maddox succeed, she wondered, and how many are here to watch him fail?

Maddox trotted onto the field as the teams were introduced, to loud applause and some scattered boos. A red-faced human behind her booed loudly in Kylie’s ear. She suddenly felt very small.

She banished all extraneous thoughts as the game began. The Pirates were up against the heavily favored New York Yankees, with Maddox in the lineup batting fourth. The left fielder snagged a fly ball for the Yankees’ first out, holding them scoreless in the first inning. Now the Pirates were at bat, and one base hit and two outs later, he was at the plate. He swatted the first pitch deep without even seeming to try. A triple! The man on first rounded for home! Mad Maddox’s bat had scored the first point of the game! The crowd erupted. Kylie was floating on air.

The game passed like a rushing river. The Yankees and the Pirates kept up with each other run for run through eight innings. Maddox flied out a couple of times and got two base hits, one resulting in another RBI and the other in a run. He had the crowd on his side. Even the red-faced man behind her stopped grumbling when Maddox would step to the plate. Kylie couldn’t believe it. It was really happening.

Bottom of the ninth! The Yankees were up 6-5 as Pittsburgh stepped up to bat. Harris bunted for a single, then Rivera flied out to center. McGee and Chambers both walked, filling the bases, then Bond struck out. The bases loaded, two outs, and it was Maddox’s turn at bat. A hush filled the stadium as the big wolf walked to the plate. Kylie could feel the electricity crackling in the air as she leaned forward in her seat.

A ball, then a called strike. Boooo! Kill the umpire! Kylie was on her feet, furious, shouting along with every other anthro in the stands and a good number of the humans. Another ball, then another, then Maddox fouled left for a second strike. The count was three and two as the Yankees catcher tossed the ball back to the relief pitcher. Time seemed to slow down, and Kylie sensed her vision telescoping, nothing in her field of view except Maddox’s powerful arms choking up on his bat. The pitcher wound up, the ball was loose, it was in the strike zone, and with a mighty swing…

…Maddox missed. The sound of the ball hitting the catcher’s mitt was like a thunderclap. The game was over. The Pirates had lost. Maddox had lost.

Kylie couldn’t say, later, how long she sat there. It was as if she were looking up at the world from the bottom of a deep body of water. She was faintly aware of the crowd’s reaction, the boos now seeming to outnumber the cheers. Go the fuck back to your own leagues, she heard the red-faced man behind her say. He threw his Coke to the ground at her feet in disgust, soaking her shoes. The crowds filed out, the announcer bade the departing fans goodnight, the stadium personnel came out to clean the seats. Minutes or perhaps years later, a young deer snapped her back to reality with a tap on the shoulder.

“Miss? I’m sorry, miss, you have to leave. They’re shutting things down.”

Kylie wafted up the stairs and through the tunnel as if in a trance. Some part of her brain managed to navigate her to an exit. It was night. A light rain began to fall.

She turned right and began walking home. Most of the spectators were already gone. As she approached the corner, she saw a tall, powerfully-built wolf in a Pirates cap loading gear into the trunk of a Kia subcompact. It was Tim Maddox. Blood rushed into her face and ears with a sound like the roar of the sea.

She must have stopped and stared, because he turned slightly to face her, his eyes warm. “Hey there,” he said, in a voice surprising for its gentleness.

“M-Mister Mad—Mad—” Kylie began, and then it all tumbled out at once, all those years of hopes and disappointments and hero worship crashing to earth in a single horrifying, mortifying moment. It’s just not fair it’s not fair you deserve another chance we’ve been waiting so long for this and you’re the best player I’ve ever seen and it’s not fair and we may never get another chance and—

“Hey!” Maddox said, a slight chuckle in his voice. “Slow down! They signed me for the rest of the season. I’m a Pirate now.”

“Th—they did?” Kylie was suddenly aware of the tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Sure! You think one strikeout at the end of a meaningless game made the difference? Didn’t you see my triple and two base hits earlier? My two RBIs? They liked what I showed ’em out there.”

Elation bubbled up inside the young fox like an artesian spring. She tried to introduce herself properly, but could only produce an absurd squeak.

“We’re in the big leagues now, kiddo,” Maddox said. In a single motion, he plucked the Pirates cap off his head and placed it on Kylie’s. The ear holes fit her perfectly. “Hope to see you at the next game,” he said with a wave as he got in his car and started the engine.

Kylie stood and watched him drive off. Either it wasn’t raining anymore or she couldn’t feel it. Things will be different now, she thought. This won’t fix everything, but it’s a start.

 

[Lou’s Biggest Fan]

Lou constantly bouncing back and forth between “Biden has my vote!!” and “Biden is a horrible evil man and so are his followers!!!” is so representative of him saying whatever the hell he thinks will get him positive attention at the moment without any consideration to what he’s said in the past it’s astounding.

 

[ExsanguinateHorizon]

And I wouldn't have sex with him under any circumstance. Not even for a trillion dollars.

Wouldn't be worth it even if you did, you'd go missing in the folds and we'd have to set up a group expedition to look for your body.

 

[BoobWhiskers]

Spoiler: "New Ball Game" As Reimagined by Norman B. Normal

It was all over the news. The biggest event this century!

Kylie Williams shivered in anticipation as she settled into her second-deck seat at PNC Park in Pittsburgh. Anticipation, yes… but anticipation of what? After all, not everyone had looked forward to this day as the young fox had. Anthros theoretically had equal rights under the Constitution, but no anthro really believed that. Anthros were still poorer than humans, lived in worse neighborhoods, faced more discrimination in the workplace, and died younger. A lot of humans didn’t want to acknowledge it, but it was true.

And of course there was the one door that no one could deny remained closed as others opened. Until now, no anthro had ever played for a human sporting league. Humans were full of reasons for this. Most just talked about differences in size and strength between human athletes and the larger anthros. A few just went full racist and talked about anthros being too different, or not smart enough to keep up. Whatever the reasons, they had kept anthros confined to their own leagues for decades, the players traveling between second-tier cities on Greyhound buses (o, the irony!) and staying in cheap motels.

Until now. Until today. Kylie bought a program from a passing vendor. Tim "Mad" Maddox was on the cover, a handsome wolf with a thick neck and powerful biceps. The Pirates had signed the left-fielder to a one-game tryout and put him in the starting lineup. He was about to become the first anthro to play in a human major league.

It was a naked publicity stunt, intended to calm the firestorm of controversy that had erupted when the team owner was recorded at a fundraising dinner telling raunchy jokes about the sexual prowess of tigresses. But Maddox and his slugging had led the Memphis Marauders to the Anthro Series three years running, winning twice. If anyone could make the case for anthros in the major leagues, he could.

Unless he failed, in which case the door might shut again for another quarter century.

Kylie was shaken from her reverie as the crowd rose around her for the start of the national anthem. Standing up, she looked around the stands. The Pirates, twenty-six games out of first place with sixty games left to play, had trouble filling the seats on the best of days, but the stadium was packed today. Anthros made up about four percent of the population, but comprised at least twenty percent of the spectators here. Kylie looked around her at the humans. How many of them want to see Maddox succeed, she wondered, and how many are here to watch him fail?

Maddox trotted onto the field as the teams were introduced, to loud applause and some scattered boos. A red-faced human behind her booed loudly in Kylie’s ear. She suddenly felt very small.

She banished all extraneous thoughts as the game began. The Pirates were up against the heavily favored New York Yankees, with Maddox in the lineup batting fourth. The left fielder snagged a fly ball for the Yankees’ first out, holding them scoreless in the first inning. Now the Pirates were at bat, and one base hit and two outs later, he was at the plate. He swatted the first pitch deep without even seeming to try. A triple! The man on first rounded for home! Mad Maddox’s bat had scored the first point of the game! The crowd erupted. Kylie was floating on air.

The game passed like a rushing river. The Yankees and the Pirates kept up with each other run for run through eight innings. Maddox flied out a couple of times and got two base hits, one resulting in another RBI and the other in a run. He had the crowd on his side. Even the red-faced man behind her stopped grumbling when Maddox would step to the plate. Kylie couldn’t believe it. It was really happening.

Bottom of the ninth! The Yankees were up 6-5 as Pittsburgh stepped up to bat. Harris bunted for a single, then Rivera flied out to center. McGee and Chambers both walked, filling the bases, then Bond struck out. The bases loaded, two outs, and it was Maddox’s turn at bat. A hush filled the stadium as the big wolf walked to the plate. Kyle could feel the electricity crackling in the air as she leaned forward in her seat.

A ball, then a called strike. Boooo! Kill the umpire! Kylie was on her feet, red-faced, shouting, along with every other anthro in the stands and a good number of the humans. Another ball, then another, then Maddox fouled left for a second strike. The count was three and two as the Yankees catcher tossed the ball back to the relief pitcher. Time seemed to slow down, and Kylie sensed her vision telescoping, nothing in her field of view except Maddox’s powerful arms choking up on his bat. The pitcher wound up, the ball was loose, it was in the strike zone, and with a mighty swing…

…Maddox missed. The sound of the ball hitting the catcher’s mitt was like a thunderclap. The game was over. The Pirates had lost. Maddox had lost.

Kylie couldn’t say, later, how long she sat there. It was as if she were looking up at the world from the bottom of a deep body of water. She was faintly aware of the crowd’s reaction, the boos now seeming to outnumber the cheers. Go the fuck back to your own leagues, she heard the red-faced man behind her say. He threw his Coke to the ground at her feet in disgust, soaking her shoes. The crowds filed out, the announcer bade the departing fans goodnight, the stadium personnel came out to clean the seats. Minutes or perhaps years later, a young deer snapped her back to reality with a tap on the shoulder.

“Miss? I’m sorry, miss, you have to leave. They’re shutting things down.”

Kylie wafted up the stairs and through the tunnel as if in a trance. Some part of her brain managed to navigate her to an exit. It was night. A light rain began to fall.

She turned right and began walking home. Most of the spectators were already gone. As she approached the corner, she saw a tall, powerfully-built wolf in a Pirates cap loading gear into the trunk of a Kia subcompact. It was Tim Maddox. Blood rushed into her face and ears with a sound like the roar of the sea.

She must have stopped and stared, because he turned slightly to face her, his eyes warm. “Hey there,” he said, in a voice surprising for its gentleness.

“M-Mister Mad—Mad—” Kylie began, and then it all tumbled out at once, all those years of hopes and disappointments and hero worship crashing to earth in a single horrifying, mortifying moment. It’s just not fair it’s not fair you deserve another chance we’ve been waiting so long for this and you’re the best player I’ve ever seen and it’s not fair and we may never get another chance and—

“Hey!” Maddox said, a slight chuckle in his voice. “Slow down! They signed me for the rest of the season. I’m a Pirate now.”

“Th—they did?” Kylie was suddenly aware of the tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Sure! You think one strikeout at the end of a meaningless game made the difference? Didn’t you see my triple and two base hits earlier? My two RBIs? They liked what I showed ’em out there.”

Elation bubbled up inside the young fox like an artesian spring. She tried to introduce herself properly, but could only produce an absurd squeak.

“We’re in the big leagues now, kiddo,” Maddox said. In a single motion, he plucked the Pirates cap off his head and placed it on Kylie’s. The ear holes fit her perfectly. “Hope to see you at the next game,” he said with a wave as he got in his car and started the engine.

Kylie stood and watched him drive off. Either it wasn’t raining anymore or she couldn’t feel it. Things will be different now, she thought. This won’t fix everything, but it’s a start.

You made me legitimately like a furry sportsball story and I don't know how to feel about this, Norman.

 

[Boys Club Rhetoric]

You made me legitimately like a furry sportsball story and I don't know how to feel about this, Norman.

I don't know about you, but I'm deeply disappointed there wasn't anything about Kylie's tits having grown /sneed

 

[The Dude]

Has he ever written about his cat before, in any other context? I just can't recall, and I suspect he hasn't. Would Mac even be his cat? He never mentioned him missing, he never posted photos with the caption "HAVE YOU SEEN THIS CAT?"

His mother does have her cats she (probably) regularly mentions, Yarrow Sapphire Crimson Claw Brown Pants does have a cat her parents are taking care of and she just can't shut up about him, but Lou?
It can't even be "a neighbour's cat I pet or fed a couple of times" because he's a lazy shut-in who lives upstairs.

Knowing Lou, it's just another bullshit grift, and a prelude to "my mother is stricken with grief because her cat Lover just died of sickness and she just doesn't want to go shopping and/or cook food, so I have to feed my transphobic family, oy vey".

Louie has mentioned at least one cat on a couple of occasions and thier family Shit Bull once or twice. The cat, I recall, was when he was complaining that it was sick and might die (plz donate, pretty please) but according to others in the thread that was Lover, not Burger Cat. But, no, Louie doesn’t post about his pets often and they are most likely his mothers, not his. I don’t see Louie being very good at caring for animals given how fucking lazy he is.

The foot is still being used for e-begging, along with the dead cat.
View attachment 1541521

https://twitter.com/acem58/status/1297563699373277184

Ace on Twitter: "https://t.co/V0jBeCiFF6… "

archived 23 Aug 2020 16:57:18 UTC

archive.md

After previously planning to vote for Biden, Ace changes her mind again
View attachment 1541524

https://twitter.com/acem58/status/1297561200285356034

Ace on Twitter: "All the more reason not to vote for joe. #centrism c…

archived 23 Aug 2020 16:59:11 UTC

archive.md

View attachment 1541526

https://twitter.com/acem58/status/1297577370526846978

Ace on Twitter: "those toxic #BidenBros sure don't like it when you t…

archived 23 Aug 2020 17:00:01 UTC

archive.md

I'd like to know what Lard-ass considers a "day of intense walking". Is it when he has to walk to the door to get his GrubHub deliveries? Is it when he has to walk to the mailbox to get a package? I'm sure walking across the hall from his room to the shitter must be pretty "intense" for someone who weighs 444lbs like Louie.

 

[BoobWhiskers]

Allllrighty all, time for your daily Lou.

He's really huffing the euphoria hard today. Going on Christianity rants left and right, in most cases in conversations that had nothing to do with Christianity or religion; this isn't even all of them, but past a certain point all his religion sperging is basically the same.

(archive)

(archive)

(archive)



(archive)
I'd really like to know what 'dunks and callouts' he's talking about here, because I don't really ever see his stuff getting likes. I legit think he's confusing him getting into back-and-forths with single people (where he usually just ends up making himself look like an idiot) as snappy clapbacks.


(archive)
He's now 3/4 Jewish yinz guis.


(archive)
The latest iteration of the ebeg, still featuring cat content, immediately followed by more autistic 'if you give a lou a laptop'...

(archive)

And finally, Lou is annoying and can't understand why.

(archive)

 

[Lou’s Biggest Fan]

Allllrighty all, time for your daily Lou.

He's really huffing the euphoria hard today. Going on Christianity rants left and right, in most cases in conversations that had nothing to do with Christianity or religion; this isn't even all of them, but past a certain point all his religion sperging is basically the same.
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I'd really like to know what 'dunks and callouts' he's talking about here, because I don't really ever see his stuff getting likes. I legit think he's confusing him getting into back-and-forths with single people (where he usually just ends up making himself look like an idiot) as snappy clapbacks.

View attachment 1541977
(archive)
He's now 3/4 Jewish yinz guis.

View attachment 1541980
(archive)
The latest iteration of the ebeg, still featuring cat content, immediately followed by more autistic 'if you give a lou a laptop'...
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(archive)

And finally, Lou is annoying and can't understand why.
View attachment 1541986
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“I just lost followers that followed me because I seemed like a poor person in need who just got a $600 PC and then immediately started begging left and right for a fuck ton of other shit, revealing me to be a grifting no-life.”

lol

 

[Boys Club Rhetoric]

Lou's tweet about anger is... something alright. How do you make it to 36, and not know that anger itself is fine, and what really matters is how you deal with it?

Ffs, that's a conversation I recently had with my nephews, and they seemed to understand. And they're under the age of 10 still.

And nice job on the immediate pivot to new wants "needs" Lou

 

[BoobWhiskers]

And nice job on the immediate pivot to new wants "needs" Lou

I do notice that Microsoft Word subscription isn't on that shopping list of stuff he now so desperately needs. I wonder if that's because he got so thoroughly clowned in the thread for it, or because he saw people mentioning that in particular as 'peak Lou' and decided it might hurt the grift?

 

[0 0]

Allllrighty all, time for your daily Lou.

He's really huffing the euphoria hard today. Going on Christianity rants left and right, in most cases in conversations that had nothing to do with Christianity or religion; this isn't even all of them, but past a certain point all his religion sperging is basically the same.
View attachment 1541941
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(archive)
I'd really like to know what 'dunks and callouts' he's talking about here, because I don't really ever see his stuff getting likes. I legit think he's confusing him getting into back-and-forths with single people (where he usually just ends up making himself look like an idiot) as snappy clapbacks.

View attachment 1541977
(archive)
He's now 3/4 Jewish yinz guis.

View attachment 1541980
(archive)
The latest iteration of the ebeg, still featuring cat content, immediately followed by more autistic 'if you give a lou a laptop'...
View attachment 1541984
(archive)

And finally, Lou is annoying and can't understand why.
View attachment 1541986
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Why the hell does anybody need a Bluetooth keyboard when they're already plopped in front of the desk? I wasn't even aware Bluetooth keyboards existed, yes Louis acts like he'll die without it by ranking it before food, even.

And it's hilarious he still thinks these needless purchases are "gifts" when he doesn't even name who gave it to him.

 

[Sintharia]

Why the hell does anybody need a Bluetooth keyboard when they're already plopped in front of the desk? I wasn't even aware Bluetooth keyboards existed, yes Louis acts like he'll die without it by ranking it before food, even.

And it's hilarious he still thinks these needless purchases are "gifts" when he doesn't even name who gave it to him.

I think the keyboard was for the iPad. The good ones are not cheap. I have a really nice one that turned my iPad into a laptop, basically, and it was like $65.

 

[Kled]

And it's hilarious he still thinks these needless purchases are "gifts" when he doesn't even name who gave it to him.

They're needed to help him cope!!

 

[Norman B. Normal]

(archive)

Well, now, that's interesting. Standing on the broad shoulders of @Plastic Inevitable, I set out to determine which of Lou's two grandfathers was the Jewish one. Starting with Louis Dominic Gagliardi, Sr., father of Louis Dominic "Butch" Gagliardi Jr. and grandfather of our boy Louis Dominic Gagliardi III, I found his World War II draft registration card:*



Lou Sr. was born in 1903 in Italy ("Entria" doesn't appear to be a real place, but we might assume that's some Ellis Island bullshit) and lived in Westmoreland County, Pennsylvania as an adult until his death.† I couldn't find much information about his religion. Roberto Benigni taught me that there were Jewish people in Italy during the early 20th century, but the history of the Jews in Italy is not a happy one, and today about 0.05% of the population of Italy is Jewish. Preliminarily, I'm going to assume Grandpa Gags was Catholic. I could only imagine what else I'd have been able to uncover if I hadn't let my ancestry.com subscription lapse some years back.

So now we turn to Lou's only remaining grandfather, James E. Moon, Sr. At findagrave.com, we uncover evidence that this must be the right guy:

Spoiler: obituary

James E. Moon Sr., 81, of Greensburg, died Saturday, Feb. 25, 2012, in Excela Health Westmoreland Hospital, Greensburg. He was born Feb. 16, 1931, in Greensburg, a son of the late George E. and Lillian E. (Osterwise) Moon. Prior to retirement, he had been employed by U.S. Steel, Edgar Thomson Works, Braddock. He was an Army veteran of the Korean War, and a founding member of the West Point Volunteer Fire Department. Jim enjoyed watching TV, reading the newspaper, playing cards and holidays with his family. He was an avid sports fan. In addition to his parents, he was preceded in death by two grandchildren. He is survived by a son, James E. Moon Jr., of Greensburg; four daughters, Sandra Stillwagon and her husband, Samuel, of Tarrs, Denise A. Gagliardi, of Greensburg, Karen J. Gesler and her husband, John, of Greensburg, and Kathy J. Petrosky, of Jeannette; eight grandchildren; 10 great-grandchildren; two brothers, Richard A. Moon and his wife, Lois, of Youngstown, Pa., and John T. Moon and his wife, Noreen, of Cleveland, Ohio; three sisters, Jane L. Bussard and Lois J. Sanner, both of Greensburg, and Clover Joseph and her husband, Emmett, of Texas; and several nieces and nephews. Friends will be received from 3 to 5 and 7 to 9 p.m. Tuesday in the LEO M. BACHA FUNERAL HOME INC., 516 Stanton at Green streets, Greensburg. A funeral Liturgy will begin at 1 p.m. Wednesday in the funeral home with the Rev. Martin R. Bartel, OSB, officiating. Interment will follow in Westmoreland County Memorial Park with full military honors accorded by the VFW Post 33 Honor Guard. In lieu of flowers, family suggests memorial contributions to the West Point Volunteer Fire Department. www.bachafuneralhomeinc.com.

So what does James E. Moon, Sr.'s gravestone look like?



Well, that's... that's weird. Why would a Jewish man have a cross on his gravestone? As a proud veteran of the Korean conflict, Cpl. Moon earned, and was granted, a veteran's headstone, and although it's far from unheard-of for the U.S. military to make a mistake, this constitutes actual physical evidence that Grandpa Moon was a Christian.

That being the case, it suggests that Grandpa Moon may have been the non-Jewish grandfather who punched Nazis. But wait: Gramps was a veteran of the Korean War, not World War II, and in fact was only 14 years old when Germany surrendered. When would he have had a chance to punch Nazis? I've seen every episode of M*A*S*H a dozen times, and I can say with authority that the only enemies we cared about by the time Grandpa Moon's balls dropped were the Commies, not the Nazis. Therefore, and bearing in mind the extremely stereotypical Italian background of Grandpa Gags, I must rate Lou's claim as [citation needed].‡

I leave you with this photo of Papa "Butch" Gagliardi in his prime:

*Several links probably won't work unless you have an ancestry.com account, sorry.
† Incidentally, if the birthdate of Butch Gagliardi is correct, it looks like Grandpa Gags was still firing the main gun when he was 55 years old, with Grandma Gags a mere lass of 33. Good job, man.
‡ I might be drunk right now. Hard to say, really.

 

[Miss Misery]

I think this might be proof that Lou knows his genealogical claims are bullshit. Or could it be a different LouG??

 

[Iron Hamster]

And it's hilarious he still thinks these needless purchases are "gifts" when he doesn't even name who gave it to him.

I laugh at the desk being exactly the same size as the previous table.