Putting the Fun into Funeral
I was 11 when my grandfather died.

Always one to be difficult, he dropped dead halfway up a mountain in Austria and it cost someone a fortune to bring him back home in one of those industrial-sized coffins they have on the continent.

He was not a big man, but the coffin was absolutely monstrous, and it was clear that even with a troop of six hefty pall-bearers, there was a certain difficulty bearing him into the chapel at the crematorium.

As the two guys at the front stooped to set the coffin down on the dais, one of them lost his balance, causing the team to virtually throw grandad onto the conveyor belt, where it hit the over doors with a solid thump.

Well, 11-years-old --- I only had one thing to say about that comedy gem: "BWA HA HA HA HAAAAAAARGH!"

Everybody stared at me, the vicar tutted, somebody sobbed and I got a clip round the ear.

Sorry, old bloke, but you were magnificent. Right up to the end.
( Scaryduck LIKES EGG, Fri 23 Jul 2010, 13:09, 1 reply)

one from me archive; 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.
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Fri 23 Jul 2010, 13:15, closed)