As you all know from Don T’s Wednesday post, the man we all knew as tWBS passed away on Monday. FWIW, as he would write, it seems he passed away in his sleep without suffering. So, that’s something.
Many of us got to know him in real life and we’re lucky to call him a friend. Others were able to communicate with him via text or phone or email and got to know him as more than just a drinking toddler.
We thought we would use today’s post as an opportunity to share our thoughts with you and pay tribute to the one and only tWBS.
Each will say some words and add a pic.
I wrote last Friday’s post as a kind of premature goodbye. I had communicated with tWBS via email and he confided in me that he thought something was seriously wrong with his health.
I hoped for the best but mentally prepared myself for the worst. Hence my post and the words I wrote about him. I wanted him to read it before anything happened. I’m just glad he did and he understood how much his friendship meant to me.
I will miss him but I choose to only remember him fondly. I’ll make inappropriate jokes that I know he’ll be laughing at, wherever he is.
Here’s your picture, buddy!
I regret the fact that I never met tWBS in meatspace, just here. Out of all you fine miscreants, he was the one I wanted to shoot the shit with the most (sorry, those of you I’ve actually met), in the eternal plans for the East Coast DFOCon.
We bonded through our mutual romantic failings, as I vented about them both on-site and in the writers’ backroom, as he later did. And he, along with my real-life friends, was crucial in softening the blow that that ordeal caused. Throughout our time we’d vent about the failings, or aftermaths, and he reminded me that the friends who were there for me were friends worth holding onto. (And also trying to hook me up with one of them before Senorita Weaselo entered the picture.) In time we’d also needle each other on sports teams, especially him with my Rangers and me with his O’s. And when he grew peppers, he asked for my address and sent me a box, with an extremely sweet letter wishing me the best. And promising the next year he was going to make me suffer even more—after ghost and ghor-pions (yes, it’s a cross between ghost and scorpion), he was planning on growing Reapers this year. I’ve slacked off on writing about this past fall’s shipment, but that post is coming up shortly, because now it has to.
His nephew posted in the backroom on his behalf, asking for us to email him. And so I ended up becoming the unfortunate one to break the news to everybody. My heart goes out to his mom, who on all his accounts sounds like a lovely lady who now has to bury her son. And to his niece he constantly mentioned and practically raised, even if she could be a pain in the ass, as teenage girls can be. And to his nephew who broke the news, and the rest of his family. And Dave, who’s faced with the reality of a new owner who’ll probably have no idea about his sentience.
Thank you, buddy. For everything. For keeping me sane. And keeping me insane. I’m gonna miss you.
Also sperm. (/Pedro Pascal as Walton Goggins cracks repeatedly.)
For someone who lived on the other side of the country, I sure did see a lot of TWBS. He’s crashed on my couch, we’ve traveled, gone, uh, camping together (100% accurately depicted here), cruised the bars, and had some of the best tasting meals together. As a man that has gone through so much hardship and heartbreak, he sure knew how to have a great time, and whether it was a cheap shot, loudly quoted Archer reference, sounding out each letter in his abreviated name here (Tee-Double-U-Bee-Ess) or the occasional something profound, he had a knack for making everyone around him laugh. The plain fact was that he was a selfless pleaser; he’d break a bone doing something for you just to see you smile. He didn’t have to come back from the bathroom at the Mandalay Bay and tell us the ASS HERPES tale, much less post on the site about it, but he sure as shit did, because that’s just who he was.
Of course, this selflessness would get him into trouble, which also came with a refusal to give up. There have been plenty of times when talking about ways to run this site where he would outright refuse to go along with what we decided, because he didn’t think it was the right thing. Did it piss me off? Sure, but it was so harmless. If there was a way to measure TWBS good intentions, you’d be able to see it from space. And it shows by how many damn posts he made on this site. Whenever there was a gap to fill (phasing) he jumped into it without a second thought. You almost couldn’t keep him away from helping at every turn.
My fondest memory of TWBS was a day that just the two of us spent together in my neck of the woods, maybe a year or two ago. Before coming to visit me, he had driven down to Jack Murphy Stadium following the HERETICS departure, just because he wanted to see it with his own eyes once. When he showed up at my ziggurat and I made fun of him for it, he joked that he went right up the a security guard on the grounds and demanded “I’M HERE TO SEE DEAN!” I took him on a coastal tour of my area, blasting Me First and the Gimme Gimmes the whole time, stopping at two breweries, walking the coast, joking with him about the good looking girls in the area he’d disappoint. Our last stop was my favorite taco shop, where he couldn’t stop talking about the fish tacos I can’t stop talking about in general. Afterwards, we just hung out on my balcony, smoked a joint or two and watched classic Simpsons on the couch. It was a simple day, but one of my favorites, and I really expected to get to enjoy more many of them with him.
Love ya’s, man. Love ya’s forever.
Like Low Commander, I had the pleasure of spending many, many days and hours with the Wee One. Our Vegas adventures were as legendary as they were unholy and unspeakable. Low Commander, Seamus and I were always a team on these trips and usually had hotel rooms on the same floor. They steered me back to my room to make sure I got home safe more than once.
Seamus was always up for the adventure and had a constitution that was incredible. He visited my home a few times and we quaffed more than our fair share of beers together.
Seamus was never without a smile. Seriously. He also had this unmistakable “Southern drawl” that sounded like a cross between Bradley Cooper in “A Star is Born” and Sam Elliot in “Tombstone.” But holy shit did that drawl work magic with the ladies. Seamus had uncanny success with women.
I’ve hugged the man more times than I can count and we’ve even shared a few tears together. The last time I saw him on the Hollywood Subway Pub Crawl he said the next time he came to LA would be to move here.
But holy Jesus did his musical tastes suck.
Love you my brother. Will miss you dearly.
We lost a brother. A true good man who galvanized us all in our clubhouse after KSK went down. I have been all over the place the last few days wondering how someone I have never been face to face with could hold such a place in my day to day.
I’m still shell-shocked on how someone I have never met could have such an effect on my life. Whenever I had a question about the late Oxipug he would answer in depth and in layman’s terms. He actually took the time to look up how Canadian veterinarians did things so I had more knowledge. When he wanted to perhaps buy a restaurant a couple (?) years back we chatted about everything that goes in to owning a restaurant. He was a real brother.
Twbs would have given you the shirt off his back, sweaty, but he would have given it to you nonetheless. I intended to attend a DFO con in California, money was tight and this man who I had never met in person offered to share his rental unit with me. I fully intended to take him up on the offer and couldn’t due to other unforeseen circumstances. We always promised we would get really high at a DFO con and now it won’t happen.
Just last week we were emailing back and forth concerning a fiction series I had started with him as the protagonist. We had him and Dave moving up to BC to retire at BC Dick and my pug farm. I can’t believe he is gone.
The “TWBS” in the futbol corner of our clubhouse will be 1-0, as 0-0 is boring for everyone but 1-0 for the futbol freaks could be a magical game, not for him.
The Orioles no matter their record will have the AL East right where they want them.
Miss you already bud, so I tried to put my words together and throw this up in remembrance – K Carpenter.
What else is there to say, really? I know that I haven’t had the chance to meet many of our writers and Commentists on this here website, largely in part due to my geographic isolation. I can tell you, however that from every interaction I’ve ever had with tWBS is that the man was a true friend to all of us – and he showed it every day. He took the time to send me some Carolina Reaper chili pepper seeds all the way from North Carolina through to Ontario so that I could get the chance to grow some for myself. It took months for them to arrive, but he checked in regularly to see if I’d received them yet. When they finally made it, he was genuinely delighted. I look forward to getting the chance to plant them in order to honoUr his memory. It’s the least I can do, really.
With the world currently existing in “uncertain times”, as so many goddamn spam emails are putting it, I don’t know the next time I’m going to get to venture south. But I do know that I’ve wanted to get back to NC for a while, to visit my cousins in Fayetteville. I know I’ll be thinking a lot about Seamus the next little while – perhaps a side trip to his neck of the woods might bring some closure.
Lastly, I know it’s not the Offspring or Green Day, but I heard this song for the first time yesterday, by Canadian songwriting duo Gunning + Cormier, just before we heard the news. Curious timing, to say the least, but I almost feel like it was a sign, or something. I don’t know. Having listened to it numerous other times since then, I think the messaging is exactly on point for what tWBS was to us and our community. I hope you can stomach the cheesiness of it, big guy. Love ya.
He kept threatening to kidnap my dogs. COVID was a blessing, because it’s hard to convince border guards you are serious that a guy from North Carolina who goes by Seamus & calls his truck Dave is coming north to try & steal my precious
antique cans little monsters. But the mandatory closure to all non-essential travel meant he was never able to succeed in his mission.
He also loved the outdoors, and chats with him involved discussing the simple beauty nature can provide. In his memory, I give you Cleveland Dam and Riga & Lambeau posing beneath it.
It’s a beautiful enough place that he’d ask me a billion questions about it, and possibly isolated enough that he’d wonder how Scotchy would get rid of a body in such surroundings, so he could then leave with my dogs.
tWBS was a good blogger, and a good man. He was one of us. He was a man who loved animals and the Orioles… and posting pictures of scantily clad women, and as a wayward North Carolinian with wanderlust he and Dave explored the beaches and women of Southern California, from La Jolla to Leo Carrillo and… up to… Pismo. He died, like so many young men of his generation, he died before his time. In your wisdom, Lord, you took him, as you took so many bright flowering young men at Khe Sanh, at Langdok, at Hill 364. These young men gave their lives. And so would tWBS. tWBS, who loved Sexy Friday. And so, the Wee Baby Seamus, in accordance with what we think your dying wishes might well have been, we commit your final mortal remains to the bosom of the Pacific Ocean and/or Sexy Friday, which you loved so well.
Good night, sweet prince.
I, like more than a few other DFOers, got to know tWBS on the site, slack, online poker rooms, and email before meeting him in person in Brick Meathook’s backyard. In all of those interactions, tWBS wore his heart on his sleeve. And it was a big heart. He let it lead him where perhaps his head should have reined him in, but from Venice to Tampa, tWBS was sure as fuck going to follow his heart. Others knew him better than I did, but we can all agree that he is gone too soon, and I know I’m not the only one that heard the news and immediately thought, “da fuq?”
As a local North Cakalaky-an, I surely should have invested more time hanging with tWBS live. Spoiler Alert – I am even worse at maintaining fo’ reelz friendships than I am imaginary ones.
Still, I very much enjoyed our occasional beerfest/yell at NC State on the teevee meetups. And of course, the time spent at the terrible (yet somehow still classy) airport nudie bar. As you may recall, said visit was the result of my lost #ShameBet with Balls over RRRRRRRRRRRRRRAM IT!! (though I got even the following season). Neither of us went to jail or wound up married to a crackhead in Vegas, so it was a successful venture.
I will admit there were times when he was having one of his many short-lived “beefs” that I worried I had made a mistake bringing him into our Clubhouse. Rest assured that reading these tributes this week, I am appropriately ashamed. He was willing to reach out, and put himself on the firing line. You know, the kind of stuff that a social ret…Special Young Man like myself could never even dream to attempt. Kind of heart, willing to put others before himself. We could all strive to be a little more like tWBS. Insert baby drinking martini (as we all know, a martini is just a shittily made gin and tonic).
Sorry to be medium heavy, I offer amends in the form of the perfect love scene from Mulholland Drive (NSFW warning, brief nipplage):
P.S. – The Avett Brothers still suck, go ahead HAUNT ME!!
The Right Reverend Electric Mayhem
“There he goes. One of God’s own prototypes. A high-powered mutant of some kind never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live, and too rare to die.” -Dr. Hunter S. Thompson
The Wee Baby Seamus was an asshole. A first-class who-the-hell-does-this-guy-think-he-is pain in the ass. Full-tilt. He’d tell you so himself.
He was also one of the kindest souls I think I’ve ever met. The man had a drive toward goodness and generosity that put me to shame on more than one occasion. Most of the time I was exasperated with him, it was because his noble impulses were compelling him to do something unutterably stupid. He would run through a wall if he thought it would help you out, even if you told him not to.
Especially if you told him not to.
I don’t believe in making the dead sound like saints and ignoring their faults when doing something like this. It diminishes who they were, as if the “real” person wasn’t good enough. Seamus doesn’t need that.
Seamus’ generosity and need to believe the best about people is all the more impressive BECAUSE he was a cynical jerk. It shows his strength of character- to know that people will almost certainly let you down but to keep putting yourself out there for them. Remarkable doesn’t begin to cover it.
There are too many stories to share here, both for length and because the statute of limitations hasn’t run. Suffice it to say, I’m going to miss him. Because he was caring. Because he was a complete tool. Because he was my friend. For him, two pictures- a sad widow and a Merry Widow.
While I never met Seamus in person, I felt like we became great friends here. His posts were always great reads, and seeing him in the comments was always a welcome sight, no matter what he had to say.
He was a very generous person. Both in real life, and at the poker table with his chips.Seriously though, the man was a genuine soul, and did his best to help out others by listening when needed, and offering advice if asked. Offline, he also did his best to make this crazy world a better place. Go read his Wednesday motivational posts for examples of his selflessness. It’ll be damn near impossible to fill the void he left here.
We miss you already Seamus.
Eulogies and memorial services are weird when you think about it. You are presumably surrounded by a group of people who all presumably knew the deceased. We try to balance the good memories with the uplifting ones. Certain people might know certain aspects to their life yadda yadda, it’s never easy.
I’ve really struggled with what I want to say here, and after brainstorming for a few hours, it hit me: I’ve never lost someone I was this close to while never meeting them in person.
TheWeeBabySheamus (or TWBS as many of us called him) wasn’t just an acquaintance. He wasn’t an “internet friend” like we played the same MMORPG or something. He wasn’t a coworker whom we involuntarily spent hours around each other eventually finding some commonality.
TWBS was my friend. Thats a phrase that’s oft repeated but I feel like its lost some meaning, seems like a lot of folks conflate acquaintance with actual friendship. An acquaintance is someone you know, somebody that, if you know is facing difficulty, you wish the best for because you can practice basic human empathy. (then again I can’t speak for the other freaks on this site, (sorry guys, just had to throw that joke in there to keep the mood light.)
Mark was my friend because of the person he was, and that showed through his contributions to this site. He took time out of his day to make our days better, our NFL games less boring, and to make our fridays more sexy.He had a big heart that was interested in any subject. I apparently reintroduced him into the novelty that is pro wrestling, he made playful snide remarks about the apparent dozens of hour long TV dramas that now dominate the airwaves, but it was all in good fun.
He didn’t stick around for just the laughs either. He was quick to counsel me when my dog passed away a few years ago. He somehow knew immediately of the guilt I was feeling, of the helplessness that I could have done more to present it. He was there a million times more effective than any grief counselor could ever hope to be.
By all accounts, TWBS acted this way with everyone. I can’t imagine the grief that is felt by everyone he knew.. I truly feel sorry for his family, and all our other members here. In conclusion, I’d like to finish my thought from earlier. A friend isn’t an acquaintance, a friend is family you choose to share your life with. We’re a family here, and families stick together. When we migrated from the old site, a lot of old faces came out of the woodwork to say their farewells. I saw something similar on the open thread the other day. Its reassuring. Goodbye my friend.
That all sounds great, but we all know why we’re here, but I think I could use a little help. You ready Alex?
Yep there you are girl. You want to remind the folks about how the whole love triangle between you, TWBS and myself started?
Ah there we go. TWBS was one of the first to learn of my affinity for gloved women. And On Wrestlemania weekend I supplied some gifs of the lovely Alexa Bliss.
I don’t have a segue for this, so just enjoy the remaining GIFs
Goodbye my friend, and in conclusion, I’ll leave with the same quote final quote as when we left the old site:
“Happy trails to you, untill we meet again”
“The American Dream” Dusty Rhodes
I don’t remember exactly when Seamus and I really started crossing paths, but, I know it was on #UpForWhateverville. I recognized that he and Hippo had one hell of rapport, and since I’d known Hippo on there for a while, Seamus must’ve been good people. I wasn’t wrong. He and I hit it off almost immediately, with our mutual love for football and golf, equal loathing for Roger Goodell, the NBA, Dook… well, a lot of things.
He was always funny; the man turned a phrase better than a lot of others. We talked on the phone probably twice a month for at least five years. It usually contained my late-night drunken ramblings he was always happy to
put up with listen to, on any number of categories. Two that stand out are the time I managed to rattle off every winner of a men’s major championship golf tournament since 2007 (NERD!), and the other was after I had to help a very disheveled, drunken girl find her way back to her apartment after she tried to enter mine.
He and I finally got to meet in person last May in the DC Metro area, where my wife was attending a conference. I can’t remember if he drove from NC, or was already in Baltimore, but, he said that if I’m going to be in the area, we’re definitely meeting up for drinks, food, and sprots. That’s precisely what happened for two days at the Gaylord (giggity) Resort and Hotel. While wifey sat in meetings, we spent far too much money on overpriced bar food and drinks, watching the PGA Championship, and whatever baseball games happened to be on. He even introduced me to Dave! We promised to do it again, whenever the opportunity allowed.
He’d love to Skype with my kids, which we did probably a half-dozen times. He was just that warm and genuine kind of person. He even created a Sexy Friday theme week specifically for me. That’s classy. Keep his mom and family in your prayers He really did love her, and went out of his way to take the best care he could.
See you on other side, buddy. Rest easy,
P.S. Your taste in music really was awful.
Most of what I’ve been able to articulate came out in today’s Request Line. But I want to reiterate how remarkable tWBS’ fearlessness was to me, a person who uses diplomacy as a cover for cowardice. tWBS was never afraid to speak his mind, and I think the only time I ever saw him afraid of anything was his concern for the welfare of others. I’ve never seen anyone else be so generous with second chances, and anyone that ever tried to burn a bridge with him and turned away from the water was going to find him showing up on their side, soaking wet, within the hour. I’m supposed to post a picture here, so I wanted to add one more piece to his legacy: The (not so) Wee Lady Siobhan.
One last thing: tWBS’s mother has requested in lieu of flowers or anything of the sort to instead consider donating to the Durham Rescue Mission, which was something he was contributing to himself for quite a while.