There is usually a good reason NOT to go into a graveyard @ night.
2 tales from my childhood including my besty Ron (as in Later). I was staying at his old's house over the weekend & so of course we had to sneak out of his room to go for a wander whilst we enjoyed our pilfered beers and cigs.
As we strolled thru Karrakatta cemo (where he ended up getting cremated) we noticed some lights in the distance, in a cemetery, on the weekend @ about 2200... So being the smart,sober & sensible teenagers that we were - we decided to investigate.
As we got closer LaterRon & I noticed many coloured lights floating @ about hip height above some of the graves. As we got closer still we saw that the lights were flickering as tho they were the spirits of the dead waiting for some tipsy teenage boys to come along so's they could haunt them. It was when we heard the weird droney,chanting that we though "Fuck this, I'm outta here" & piss-bolted.
We had come across a midnight mass in the Roman Catholic section where they light candles and place them in coloured jars on the headstones and sing hymns to their beloved deceased. When we figured this out many years later we pissed ourselves and had another beer.
The other (much shorter) 1 was a year or 2 later when Ron & I were smoking probably 1 of either of our first ever spliffs, again in the dead of night in Karakatta when a tall bloke in a long overcoat, carrying a long handle shovel strolled by and said "Good evening boys.". We did our best stunned-mullet impressions, pondered what it was about & then decided that we probably didn't really want too know afterall!
The shovel was a good 6' long.
(Misery McUglywife an attention seeking sociopathic fuckstain., Fri 8 Apr 2011, 6:57, Reply)