» Putting the Fun in Funeral

Mad Monks and drunk Nuns
I used to be an Altar Server (ever since the first day the Catholic Church allowed girls to become Altar Servers), so I have seen a fair few funerals in my time.

The best one, was at a former Abbey, and was the funeral of a Priest. I was in my usual role as an Altar Server, in fact the only one. The other people on the Altar were the Priest, and a Monk. He was a bit crazy. There was also a disabled woman sitting at the front of the church, who somehow ended up with 4 of the same hymn book.

The Monk, being a bit crazy, and having posession of the incense swinger, noticed it wasn't smoking enough. He took me outside, and proceeded to swing this thing round, and round above his head. It started smoking. In fact, it was smoking so much the entire Altar area almost disappeared in smoke.

After the actual funeral was over, we were all going into the Abbey for food and booze, when my Mother noticed a particularly old Nun rushing past, looking a little distressed. My Mother stopped her to ask if she was okay.

Her response?
"Oh yes, I'm just here for the Sherry!"
(Thu 11th May 2006, 14:02, More)

» Your Weirdest Teacher

Miss Pope
I had a maths teacher named Miss Pope. Couldn't stand the woman, and neither could anyone else come to think of it.

Whenever she taught a lesson, she wouldn't look at any of the pupils, instead she would stare at the clock the entire time, and then would wiggle the top half of her body from side to side as she spoke.

I had to leave school rather young (illness) and she was one of the teachers who was rather nasty to myself and my parents. One day I happened to be in Marks and Spencer's with my Mother and I saw her at one of the fridge cabinets. I pointed her out to my Mother. Then another one of her appeared out of nowhere!

She had a bloody identical twin. She was also a teacher, but at another school. They wore exactly the same thing every single day. Same hair style, both going grey (probably even the same hairs), both wore the same nasty sandals, and round glasses. They both even wiggled as they spoke to people. Bear in mind they were the wrong side of 40.

It makes me shudder to think about her/it/them. I still think she was shagging the deputy head.
(Tue 15th Nov 2005, 14:43, More)

» Weddings

I used to be a wedding photographer...
...So we saw many things along the lines of men holding posies, lifting up the bride's skirt, adjusting the bride's garter etc...but there are two stories I know that are slightly interesting.

At one wedding at a stately home in Canterbury, as one of the three photographers we were sat on a table with some of the other guests. We were sat next to a pregnant woman who was talking about how much she loved her boyfriend, and how much she wanted to marry him. Cue one of the photographers, thinking that her boyfriend knows all this, going over to him and saying that as it's a romantic occassion, maybe he should propose to her, as she really wants to marry him. The photographer came back with the most embarrased look on her face I have eve seen, and explained to us that, He never had any intention of marring his girlfriend...ever. The couple didn't speak much that evening.

The other incident, which I didn't witness, but the photographer I worked for did. There was a nice ceremony in Canterbury Registry Office, with a small meal afterwards at an italian restaurant. Apparently the atmosphere could be cut with a knife - there was something seriously wrong. Then, out of the blue, the Groom's Mother appeared, ripped the ring off the newlywed bride's finger and started having a full blown fight with her. The groom intervened, and she started shouting at him about how he shouldn't have married that woman (not good enough etc...). More fights started, including the Groom's mother physically fighting with the staff, and they were ordered to leave the restaurant. Unfortunately the photographer didn't take any pictures.

(Apologies if anyone doesn't like my length).
(Fri 15th Jul 2005, 16:37, More)

» Scars with history

Groin
When I was seven, I underwent surgery for a hernia in my groin. The scar is about and inch and a half long, and I was told it would fade, but it's still very noticeable, although covered by pubic hair some of the time. When you push down on it, it still feels hard.

I will always remember my Father pushing the hernia in a few days before the operation. When he pushed it in, it moved left a few inches, then stuck itself out again.
(Fri 4th Feb 2005, 20:08, More)