My dad.
Died a couple of years back when I was 15.
He had what's known as 'Lewey Body Dementia' - a mixture of Alzheimer's and Parkinsons - nasty stuff, avoid it at all costs.
He had this for about 13/14 years (it made for an... alternative childhood) before catching pneumonia in a respite home and subsequently... well... dying.
We had the call from the home a few days earlier from a lovely but indecipherable African nurse, saying that he really wasn't very well and it didn't look like recovery was on the horizon.

When he died a few days later, my mum, being too upset (naturally) to drive called my aunt - Jane - and her husband with a drivers license - Phil - informing them of the situation and asking them if they'd be good enough to drive us up there.

We got to this home - having visited it before, it was quite nice, smelled of the aged and death.
I thought we we're only picking up my dads stuff...

I cannot begin to describe my suprise at walking into the room and seeing him lying there on the bed. He died at 5 in the morning and we went in at 9ish.
So, he had been there for 4 hours and no one - NO ONE - had taken the time to think about closing his eyes.
It looked like jelly. Grey jelly.

He was all stiff and rigid.
My aunt called it 'regaining his dignity' (Wtf?)
I call it rigor mortis.

I was not having a good day (much like the rest of my family.)

Out of interest... who the FUCK, brings small children to a funeral?
You know if you went to church, and there was always a small kid making noise during the sermons but it was adorable... yeah... not at a funeral.
Even when the priest says "we're here today to say goodbye" GOODBYE GOODBYE, interrupts the child.
Fucksake.


Oh, and I saw a dead badger today.
Didn't look dead, more like it had one hell of a night and passed out at the side of the pavement.
Seriously, it was grinning.

Length joke about badger cock... or something.
(Good Looking Deity Grew a magnificent beard on, Fri 29 Feb 2008, 21:52, Reply)