We gather here today to mourn the loss of a man who has left an indelible mark on our lives, much like the stains he left on his favorite armchair. A man whose very name brings forth a cacophony of emotions — Stanko Fartski.
As we stand here in this beautiful chapel, I can’t help but think that Stanko would have absolutely hated it. He was never one for fancy surroundings or anything remotely resembling good taste. In fact, I’m sure he would have preferred us to hold this service in Gutter Greta’s Grub & Grog where he spent most of his waking hours.
Now, I know that many of you are grieving today — some out of genuine sadness and others out of relief that you no longer have to deal with Stanko’s antics. But let us take solace in the fact that he is now in a better place — or at least a place where he can no longer steal your lunch from the office fridge.
While his sense of humor might seem crude and offensive to some, it was overshadowed by his selfishness, lack of empathy, and general disregard for the feelings of others — characteristics that defined him as a person in his final days struggling with a rare fatal disease known as Karmic Retributionitis.
Stanko was a man of many talents — none of which were particularly useful or legal. He could pick a lock faster than you could say “breaking and entering,” and had an uncanny ability to find the most inappropriate time to share his vast collection of off-color jokes.
Stanko Fartski, born out of wedlock on April 1st, 1970, passed away on February 29th, 2023, in the bustling metropolis of Nowhereville. From a young age, Stanko was determined to escape his small village and make a name for himself — or at least find a place where people didn’t know his name and all the trouble he brought with it.
In pursuit of this dream, Stanko enlisted in the prestigious Royal Order of Couch Potatoes — an elite military organization known for their rigorous training in remote control operation and snack food consumption. It was here that Stanko honed his skills in laziness and procrastination, which would serve him well throughout his life.
After completing his service with the Couch Potatoes, Stanko decided to see the world as an apprentice toilet paper thief. This occupation allowed him to travel far and wide while simultaneously indulging in his love for petty crime. And though he never quite mastered the art of stealing two-ply without getting caught, he did manage to amass an impressive collection of hotel soaps and miniature shampoo bottles.
Some of Stanko’s virtues included his uncanny ability to avoid responsibility, his unwavering commitment to mediocrity, and strengths that left a lasting impression on those who knew him — especially Bambi, the exotic dancer who had the misfortune of lap dancing with him on numerous occasions. While his sense of humor might seem crude and offensive to some, it was overshadowed by his selfishness, lack of empathy, and general disregard for the feelings of others — characteristics that defined him as a person in his final days struggling with a rare fatal disease known as Karmic Retributionitis.
But Stanko wasn’t just passionate about collecting toenail clippings and creating sculptures out of chewed gum; he was particularly proud of his professional passion as a renowned dog food tester. This prestigious career sent him to obscure locations such as Timbuktu, the Bermuda Triangle, and even the lost city of Atlantis. He was known in his company for his strange ability to identify ingredients by smell alone, his penchant for finger painting with ketchup, and his passion for competitive underwater hopscotch that propelled him through his life.
Stanko was a master storyteller. His tales were so outrageous that they became local legends — like the time he claimed to have wrestled an alligator while wearing nothing but two nipple rings, a pair of flip-flops, and a smile.
Stanko Fartski’s strong relationships with his family members and his life-long friends, Bogdan Cabbagepatch and Vladimir Picklestein, were truly a testament to the impact he had on those around him. I remember one time when he was base jumping alone in the outback of Siberia. After landing on a bed of pinecones, he managed to get lost, having to depend solely on wild mushrooms and fermented yak milk for sustenance. While stranded, he thought about his love for his spouse, Olga, his children Boris and Natasha, and his siblings Igor, Svetlana, and Dimitri.
In those moments of desperation and hunger-induced hallucinations, Stanko realized just how much he cared for those closest to him — even if he had a funny way of showing it most of the time. And though we may never fully understand why Stanko chose to live his life the way he did or why he insisted on dragging us all along for the ride, we can at least take comfort in knowing that beneath all the lies, thefts, and questionable wardrobe decisions, there was a man who loved his family and friends — even if it took getting lost in the Siberian wilderness for him to realize it.
He was also known for his ability to stretch the truth. Some might even call him a pathological liar. But let us not mince words here; Stanko was a master storyteller. His tales were so outrageous that they became local legends — like the time he claimed to have wrestled an alligator while wearing nothing but two nipple rings, a pair of flip-flops, and a smile.
Stanko’s love life was as tumultuous as it was varied. With five ex-wives under his belt (six if you count that brief marriage to the mail-order bride who fled back to the Czech Republic after just three days), it’s safe to say that commitment wasn’t exactly his strong suit. But we must give credit where credit is due: each wife earned her own unique nickname, such as “The Ball and Chain” or “The One Who Got Away…Thank God.”
The resulting meal was not only inedible but also caused a small explosion that left their kitchen covered in charred remnants of what was once food.
In addition to being morally flexible, Stanko was also known for his immaturity. At 45 years old, he still found joy in pulling fire alarms and making prank calls to local businesses. And who could forget his infamous Fartski Fireworks display? It’s amazing how much damage one man can do with just a few dozen cherry bombs and a complete disregard for public safety.
I’d like to share a few personal stories that highlight the unique aspects of Stanko’s personality and the impact he had on others. While these tales may not paint him in the most flattering light, they do serve as a testament to his one-of-a-kind character.
I remember one time when Stanko decided to enter a local talent show. He was convinced that his ability to burp the alphabet would win him first prize and the adoration of all who attended. Unfortunately, he only made it to the letter “G” before projectile vomiting all over the front row. While he didn’t win any awards that night, he did manage to bring people together — mostly in their shared horror and disgust.
He lived life like a bull in a china shop — clumsy, destructive, but always entertaining.
On another occasion, Stanko took it upon himself to organize a surprise birthday party for his dear friend Bogdan. However, instead of inviting Bogdan’s friends and family, Stanko invited Bogdan’s ex-girlfriends — all 17 of them. The evening quickly devolved into chaos as old grudges were reignited and drinks were thrown. But amidst the pandemonium, Stanko stood proudly with a grin on his face, convinced that he had thrown the best party ever.
And who could forget the time Stanko decided to try his hand at cooking? Determined to impress his then-wife Olga with a romantic dinner, he set out to create a culinary masterpiece using nothing but expired canned goods and an old microwave. The resulting meal was not only inedible but also caused a small explosion that left their kitchen covered in charred remnants of what was once food. Despite this disaster, Stanko remained undeterred in his belief that he was a master chef — even if no one else would agree.
These stories may not be particularly inspiring or heartwarming, but they do showcase the humor and absurdity that defined Stanko Fartski’s life. He was a man who lived by his own rules — even if those rules often defied logic and common sense. He was particularly moved by fine poetry. His favorite was The Lament of the Wayward Wanderer, a piece that captures both the playful and itinerate nature of his quirky life, written for him by the acclaimed bard, Algernon Whistlerose:
The Lament of the Wayward Wanderer
As we gather here to say our farewells,
Let us remember Stanko with a tale that compels.
A man who lived life in his own peculiar way,
With a penchant for chaos and disarray.
In the Church of the Holy Turnip, he found solace and peace,
Where he prayed to the Great Gherkin, asking for release.
From the burdens of life and the troubles he’d sown,
He sought guidance from above, in a language all his own.
“O Mighty Rutabaga, hear my plea,”
Stanko would whisper on bended knee.
“Grant me wisdom, strength, and grace,
And maybe some luck in the next horse race.”
Despite all these flaws (and believe me, there are more), Stanko did have some redeeming qualities. For example, he always remembered your birthday — though usually because he’d try to pawn off stolen goods on you as gifts.
In closing, I’d like to summarize Stanko’s life and his impact on those around him by saying, “He lived life like a bull in a china shop — clumsy, destructive, but always entertaining.” And to his family, I hope you’ll manage to overlook the times Stanko was arrested for jaywalking while wearing a chicken suit, attempting to sell counterfeit Beanie Babies, and streaking through the local library while encouraging others battling an addiction to discount cologne, to cherish the memories they had of him.
And now, I’d like to ask all of you to stand up, put away your folding chairs, and assume the Downward Facing Dog yoga position for sixty minutes in honor of Stanko’s memory. And after you get home, continue celebrating Stanko’s life by attempting triple backflips, and one-armed handstands.
Thank you all once again for coming today. Please join us afterward in our procession to Stanko’s final resting place in Bumblebee Junction, Iowa. The burial will be followed by a trip to Stanko’s favorite dive bar for drinks — just be sure to keep an eye on your wallets.
