The truth is, Bill Cosby stopped being funny a long time ago.

Marianne Theresa Johnson-Reddick, born January 4, 1935, died last month, to the relief and comfort of the children whom she spent a lifetime (in their words) "torturing in every way possible." Those children, now grown, marked her passing by submitting the most chilling obituary you will ever read to her local newspaper, the Reno Gazette-Journal. While it appears to have been scrubbed from the paper's website, here's the full text, as it appeared online earlier today:

Earlier this week Shrek, the world's (probably) wooliest sheep, died in New Zealand at age 16. So as the nation ponders its future without Shrek — an animal so famous and influential that it had the ear of the prime minister — museums are lining up for the right to display his stuffed carcass for future generations. The national museum, Te Papa, wants him, and so does the Otago Museum near his home. But what would Shrek want? The New Zealand Herald explains:

Wyclef Jean's new EP is out today, and the Guardian caught up with him. He sometimes speaks in the third person, and knows he's the man: "Fans on Twitter call me the modern-day Fela or Marley or Dylan, you know."

Yesterday we watched George W. Bush's gripping book trailer. And this weekend on the campus of Southern Methodist University, a preview exhibit of his presidential library opens. It will show just how much ass he kicked while in office.

Donald Trump's shitty Jones Beach restaurant idea, "Trump on the Ocean," still faces stiff local opposition and he's pissed: "I was going to build a magnificent building on the boardwalk that would have made Robert Moses envious and proud." Gross.

Downtown artist Dash Snow died of a heroin overdose last week. The formation of his legacy is well underway. Was he an authentic artist with a tortured soul, or a selfish jerk who left his daughter fatherless?

In the week leading up to President Barack Obama's inauguration, it was open season on the outgoing president on political TV. Even conservatives like Ken Blackwell and Scott McClellan joined in the jeering.

Model and heiress Lydia Hearst sat down in her dark corner with her glass of tequila and lime juice, all Hemingway-like, and pumped out another column for Page Six magazine. Thank God. Besides some musings about her new hair color and the traffic that kept her from her Puma bag launch breakfast, Lydia has some unsolicited advice for Brooke Astor's troubled son Anthony Marshall.