Dead men tell no tales (but file them under 'gas bills')
Dear Uncle Foxy(Mummy Foxy's side of the family) gave up the oxygen habit earlier on this year. 40 fags a day since he was 12, but pulled himself to a ripe old age even with lukemia on top of that. Did us all proud.

Now, as executive of the will, Mummy Foxy was in charge of going through all the paperwork, their respective duplicates and triplicates, and ensuring that all wealth was distributed smoothly. Being the administrative sort, I offered my services for said piles of bills. Gas orders, food stamps, winning tickets for lotteries he never entered, it had the lot.

Nearing the light at the end of the tunnel, I shuffle into the next brown envelope, expecting another demand for film services cancelled decades ago. Of all things, out pops what can only be carbon dated as 1940's amateur porn. Hairy muffs and flowery wallpaper aplenty.

And many pictures of a young Mummy Foxy in swimwear.

We didn't go to the funeral.
(FoxyBadger (try saying it backwards), Thu 28 May 2009, 15:35, Reply)