In loving memory of Dean Gulberry, who shuffled off this mortal coil with all the grace of a drunken giraffe attempting ballet. Born on May 9, 1984, Dean’s life was a rollercoaster of questionable decisions, ill-fated romances, and a penchant for finding trouble in the most mundane situations.

Achievements and Not-So-Achievements:

• Lead Cashier Extraordinaire: Dean’s meteoric rise to the top of the Glenmont New York Walmart cashier hierarchy was nothing short of legendary. His $21-per-hour paycheck was the envy of every self-checkout machine.

• Prison Breaks and Bake Sales: Dean’s stint in and out of prison was like a recurring Netflix series—each season more absurd than the last. His fellow inmates fondly remember his “Free the Cookies” bake sale fundraiser.

• Friendship Status: Lonely Island: Dean’s social circle resembled a Venn diagram with only one lonely circle: himself. His battle with friendlessness was epic, like a solo game of hide-and-seek in an empty stadium.

• Passions: Dean was passionate about two things: smoking crack (allegedly) and the “Let Women Bowl Again” foundation. He believed that bowling was the key to world peace. Unfortunately, nobody else shared this belief.

• Survivors: Dean leaves behind an empty chair at the local dive bar, a stack of unpaid parking tickets, and a collection of half-baked conspiracy theories. His legacy will be remembered by the echoes of crickets chirping at his funeral.

In lieu of flowers, please consider donating to the “Let Women Bowl Again” foundation. Dean would have wanted it that way—between puffs of his mysterious pipe.

Rest in chaos, Dean. May your spirit find a jukebox in the afterlife that plays only Nickelback songs. 🎶