VLADIMIR JONES
Physicist, Father, SLOW-ASS DRIVER

Mr. Jones and me used to tell each other fairy tales. During our studies in the Science Department at Boxley University, we would periodically sneak away from the stifling environment of plasma chambers and oscilloscopes to regale each other with stories of maidens with shimmering hair and honorable kings fraught by conflicts of personal morals and feudal politics. Later in life, his children and mine would play together in the park as we, proud poppas both, now masters of our own little serfs, would reminisce about the old days. BUT THIS BITCH COULDN'T DRIVE FOR ASS. I'm serious. We'd be in the car, on the way to the ballgame, and I'm like, "Yo, that dude who just passed you on the right was the umpire for tomorrow's game. Can we move it or what?!" He was always slowing down to let "potentially aggressive drivers" swerve around us, even as we were en route to his own Nobel Prize Award ceremony. I was like, "I'm about to road rage upside your head, Veej--there's gonna be mad ladies at the reception!"

Mr. Jones passed away yesterday at the age of 46 due to complications from irritable bowel syndrome, which is a pretty bitch way to go, if you ask ME.

Mr. Jones is survived by two sons and his wife, Bridget. Memorial services will be announced in the days to come.