Randall, 32

Randall was found in a hotel room in Boston. His death was apparently caused from an overdose of drugs washed down with heavy amounts of beer. "No one thought he would ever die of old age." said a close friend.

Randall lived a wild life. Most obits glamorize the individual's social productivity but Randall was different. A wild kid that never grew up. His fatal flaw was his alcoholism. He could go for weeks without a drink. He could hold down a job, no sweat. But, once he started drinking, he could drink a case of beer and more. All that stopped him was passing out.

While drunk, he was happy and often listened to tunes with headphones at volumes that would damage anyone else's hearing. He thought Ted Nugent losing the hearing in one ear from his loud music was a minor price to pay.

He underwent detox many times, but soon returned to drinking. In the end, he was taking quite a few psychoactive drugs in an attempt to get back on his feet. He ultimately used them to get a better high with drinking.

Randall was born in the Boston area. He lost his mother to cancer when he was only 12. This had a profound impact on the rest of his short life.

He and his best friend in crime, Dante, would try anything. They drank together - lots - taking off school if necessary. They broke into warehouses in Boston just to see what it'd feel like to escape getting caught; anything for a rush. When they were younger, after the snow melted and the streets were covered with sand, they would grab on the bumper of slow moving vehicles and "surf" down streets rolling along on the sand.

He had a twisted sense of humor and would do anything to make his best friend laugh to the point of wetting his pants - literally. This was the point in which he considered the humor a success. He would scream blood-curdling calls in the street to his friend in large crowded areas, grab the microphone at Burger King and burp or spout obscenities, drop backwards and walk like a spider in the middle of crowded stores and run up to strange men at traffic stops and yell "Dad, Dad, is that you?". His humor was often "successful".

While still in high school, he promised his best friend they would someday buy homes together way out in the woods so they could crank Aerosmith and not worry about what any fucking one else said about the loud music. He swore a lot and had no intention of changing that habit.

His best friend was his best man at his wedding. He fathered a baby girl but early on he and his wife separated. Undoutedly due to the alcoholism.

He was so alive and so troubled.