Good morning everyone. I know we all loved George. And I know most of you guys probably don’t know me, but George and I go way back, I’m talking like 15, maybe 16 days. I remember the first day I met George. I pulled up next to him. “You know how many of these bad boys exist?”, I said. “Who the hell are you?”, he replied. “One million”, I said. Referring to my Chevrolet Impala. “Guess you could say I’m one in a million,” I told him. That’s when George punched me, fracturing my jaw and causing me to speak with a lisp the rest of my life. But now my wife can’t divorce me, because you just can’t divorce a man with a lisp. I love that man.

I got to know George pretty well over the next few weeks as I sued him for medical bills. I dropped the assault charges though, because that was a hell of a left hook. Turns out George was a pretty cool guy. We got drinks a few times, sometimes over breakfast. We really bonded over our love of To Catch a Predator, we even thought about trying out for the show a few times. I realize now that I actually totally forgot I was suing him. That sneaky guy! Think I could snag some of that life insurance payout?

This isn’t about me, this is about George and how he is dead. Hm, George talked about his family a lot, I think he really liked them. Well, not everyone. He would go on and on about how much he despised his wife Julia. How he couldn’t stand being with her, and she reminded him of his 2nd grade teacher the way she ate her morning lasagna. So I’m really happy to see her here in the front row. Love is truly something special. Julia, don’t give me that look, he was going to divorce you in a few weeks anyway. Wait a second, Is that John right there behind you?! You were like George’s best friend! Oh man, did George ever get to tell you that your son is actually his? No? Pity, just goes to show that the best time is always now.

I’m going to wrap this up because there’s a 12 hour sale of Dr. Scholl’s shoe inserts going on at Walgreens across the street and I gotta get there before they run out of the ones with the super cool green gel. I guess all I want to get across is that George was my best friend. Some would say he was my only friend but I’m not one to count. The man knew how to cover up an abortion better than anyone I’ve ever known. And he could make killer mocktails with alcohol. In fact, drinks are on me tonight at O’ Hannigans! To George!