Blowin’ In The Wind

After a dismal few days performancewise here, withing forever for things to hapen etc. I’m low on enthusiasm. So to provide today’s smile I raided my friend reality-speaks at bubblws whose latest post was titled My Most Embarrassing moment:

It was evening, February 25th 2009, my friend’s Grandma’s funeral service in Church. My friends Grandma was a kind and loving lady. Everybody knew her. She used to make us friends apple tarts often, she specialized in sweet treats. A large crowd had turned up in Church. The coffin was kept near the altar for everybody to pay their last respects. Our Church is dome shaped and has excellent natural acoustics. One person-at-a time, everybody went towards the coffin with flowers or cards with personal messages. I was carrying tulips, Granny loved them.

As I reached the coffin I leaned forward bending to place the flowers at the feet of Grandma who lay dead with a smile on her face. And then it happened, as I stretched bending forward to place the tulips, I let out a loud fart.

It kind of escaped without warning. I could hear the echoes of my own fart in the silence that was broken; shocked, I couldn’t think of places to hide, I pictured myself in the coffin as I looked at Grandma. The brave heart that I am, I turned around to go back to my seat which was in the second last row.

As I walked I noticed my fart had caused a flutter, the shocked expressions said it all. Youngsters had smiles on their face while the elders frowned. I quietly took my seat. Alfred, my friend who was seated beside me was placing his face between his legs to conceal his bouts of laughter. He said “Dude! You Rock! Did Grandma wake up! The next day we friends got together and had a hearty laugh.

State Funeral For Thatcher And A Suitable Memorial?

Rival polls on news blogs yesterday produced very different results on the question of whether Mrs. Thatcher should be honoured with a State Funeral. The dangerous, subversive lefties on the Guardian Comment Is Free site overwhelmingly voted “NO!” At a Conservative blog the vote was equally overwhelmingly “YES!”

Meanwhile Boggart Network News ran a similar poll in its newly acquired newspaper subsidiary The Slaghoughton and Grimetwistle Argos. Our poll produced the most interesting result. Readers said Yes, Mrs Thatcher should be given a state funeral and as a lasting and fitting memorial to The Iron Lady a Public Toilet should be built on her final resting place.

That would be poetic justice, the people who voted thought.

Ee were a lovely corpse.

At home last night we were discussing funerals, not our own of course. Teri had been to a funeral earlier in the week and had been rather taken aback when someone announced it was time to view the corpse.
Now in my family we have never been corpse viewers. Coffin lid down every time for us, but among Teri’s lot the Irish influence is strong and “the viewing” is a big thing.
Well my wife is not a corpse fan and politely declined the offer. As usual she was highly amused by the coments of people coming out of the viewing room which, in accordance with convention centred on how well Uncle Jack was looking.
I would have wanted to shout “Looking well? He’s dead, you can’t get any iller than that.”
That kicked off a set of funeral stories which on balance I think I won with this one:
I was on a bus passing Wigan cemetry where two middle aged women boarded and began to talk about the funeral.
“Ah didn’t like that dress they done her up in.”
“Well she were never a smart dresser, allus a bit flashy you know.”
“Not like ‘er ‘usband. Ee were a smart feller.”
“I know, that suit they buried ‘im in last year were lovely. “There’s plenty of men would have been proud to get married in that.”

All my life I have been tormented by the question “before or after the corpse had been buried in it?”