Putting the Fun in Funeral
Some deaths come suddenly or too soon and can really hit hard, others seem to be a blessed relief. Similarly, some funerals can be deeply upsetting and sad, others can make you want to hug the world.
Mmm, don't want to bring you down or anything, but tell us your funeral stories...
( , Thu 11 May 2006, 9:31)
Some deaths come suddenly or too soon and can really hit hard, others seem to be a blessed relief. Similarly, some funerals can be deeply upsetting and sad, others can make you want to hug the world.
Mmm, don't want to bring you down or anything, but tell us your funeral stories...
( , Thu 11 May 2006, 9:31)
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Ex-Armyman's Funeral
A friend of mine's grandad reached the age of 84, and rather peacefully passed away in his sleep. Twas a nice man, as I'd spoken to him a few times on the way to town, and he'd always made his upmost to speak decently and as politely as possible to me.
I found out the funeral details and promptly attended quietly at the back of the church, right by the aisle. After a few hymns, the vicar gives a speach about how well the turnout was for him, and also about his heroic deeds in the 2nd World War. Apparently this guy used to be a member of the Unexploded Bomb division in Swansea during the blitz, and single-handedly saved hundreds of lives during his time in service. An army representative was called up to give a brief speach about his career record, and thus did so. At the end of his speach, he closed it by announcing for everyone to stand and that the Royal Military Brass Band Representative will now play a song in rememberance. I'm looking down the front, stretching into the aisle to see this, and I can't see this rep nowehere.
The cunt was standing just behind me in the aisle, bugle in hand and lined up about a foot from my right ear.
I fucking shit myself as he started playing, hymn book flying gracefully two rows ahead of me, aptly striking another mourner. The bastard.
( , Fri 12 May 2006, 16:44, Reply)
A friend of mine's grandad reached the age of 84, and rather peacefully passed away in his sleep. Twas a nice man, as I'd spoken to him a few times on the way to town, and he'd always made his upmost to speak decently and as politely as possible to me.
I found out the funeral details and promptly attended quietly at the back of the church, right by the aisle. After a few hymns, the vicar gives a speach about how well the turnout was for him, and also about his heroic deeds in the 2nd World War. Apparently this guy used to be a member of the Unexploded Bomb division in Swansea during the blitz, and single-handedly saved hundreds of lives during his time in service. An army representative was called up to give a brief speach about his career record, and thus did so. At the end of his speach, he closed it by announcing for everyone to stand and that the Royal Military Brass Band Representative will now play a song in rememberance. I'm looking down the front, stretching into the aisle to see this, and I can't see this rep nowehere.
The cunt was standing just behind me in the aisle, bugle in hand and lined up about a foot from my right ear.
I fucking shit myself as he started playing, hymn book flying gracefully two rows ahead of me, aptly striking another mourner. The bastard.
( , Fri 12 May 2006, 16:44, Reply)
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