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I'm No Good At Funerals.


Ke1t

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Wife not at all happy with me today.

 

We get an invite to the funeral of a fairly distant relative, one of the wife's Great Uncles. Ordinarily wouldn't go, but would send flowers, but the wife gets it into her heid that we're going to go and show support for her grandfather.

 

Fair enough.

 

So we get there, and there's barely a face I recognise, but we're supposed to go and hug the immediate family and offer condolences and that sort of thing... and I've stayed sober so I can behave the shit out of myself, and I'm wearing a dark suit and a black tie, and I've been abso-fucking-lutely diligent in behaving myself, looking sad, shaking hands while maintaining solemn eye contact, and I'm going great guns, and the wife is watching me like fucking hawk because I always do something inappropriate. Always. But Kelt's fair chuffed to little mint ballies, as mum would say, because he's just nailed it.

 

The service starts, and I've my arm round the wife, rubbing her shoulder, because she's getting emotional at the loss of some guy she hasn't seen in 30 years....

 

They're doing lots of praying, and "God This" and "God That" and "Little Heavenly Pixies" the other... and I'm still.. I'm STILL fucking stoney faced and behaving... I swear to fucking God I'm behaving.

 

And then this lassie gets up to the mic. And it's obvious she's not going to deliver a simple eulogy. Music starts playing, and she starts singing.

 

She's singing away, absolutely horrible it was. Ne'ery a note was hit, and she could have been singing a totally different song to the one that was playing in the room... and I'm sitting there, and she's singing and singing and singing, and it's going on and on and on, and I'm behaving, and I'm rubbing the wife's shoulder, and...

 

...does anyone remember that episode of The Simpsons where a little Indian kid is singing in a talent contest, and it's just fucking terrible, ... and then Krusty the Clown, who was hosting this contest, comes out and goes, "Yeesh, that just went ON."

 

...Well I remembered it right then.

 

And when I saw that episode I was creased up with laughter at that bit.

 

And this kid is singing at the funeral, and all I can see is Krusty the Clown going, "Yeeesh, that just went ON." And that's the point at which I lost it. I wasn't behaving myself any more. I was trying to behave, but I couldn't help myself.

 

So, I'm rubbing the wife's shoulder, and I'm looking at the ground for all I'm worth, and the wife fucking immediately notices that I'm greeting with laughter, and she starts digging her nails into my leg and giving me just the most evil looks you can imagine. And all I can see is Krusty's face and the little Indian kid and the kid at the podium is still fucking singing and it's never stopping, and I'm almost pishing myself trying to make it all stop.

 

I'm wondering at this point whether I can play it off as me crying or something, but fuck, I didn't even know the guy was alive until like 3 o'clock Thursday when I found out he was dead, so no-one's going to believe that I'm breaking down and sobbing over him.

 

I grab up the wife's handbag and start rifling through it, and the kid's still singing whatever in the fuck it was supposed to be that she was singing... Agadoo possibly, I don't know... and I'm biting the fuck out of my lip, and I find a packet of those Antibacterial wipes. Now I have a plan.

 

I rip out a couple of these bleach-soaked wipies, and I jam them into my eyes. I'm going to play this off as an allergy attack... and if I can get my eyes burning red and streaming then it's just possible I can get away with this. Wasn't laughing, I was trying not to have a fit of coughing, because that would be inappropriate.

 

Holy fuck... do NOT jam bleach-infused wipies into your eyes. Just... just fucking don't.

 

It's all I can do not to scream, although the fits of laughter didn't exactly subside either. I'm spasming like a retard sucking on an electric cable at this point.

 

Fortunately we're sat way at the back, and the only people behind us are even more distant relatives than us. No-one who knew me is anywhere near us, but the wife's face looks like it's going to fucking explode under the pressure. And I'm jamming these wipies into my eyes for all I'm worth, and I choke out the word, "Allergies..." But she's not buying it. She's not buying it at all.

 

The drive back from the funeral house was one of the most intense silences I've experienced.

 

"I dunno if you noticed," I try, "But I had a bit of an allergy attack back there. Probably brought on by the cornfield next to the gas station we stopped at. Or maybe all the flowers in the funeral home. Probably a combination, eh?"

 

Nope. Wisnae working. I'm just the prick who laughed at the lassie singing at the funeral.

 

I'm guessing telling her I was in fact laughing at Krusty the Clown isnae going to cut much ice either.

 

Oh, you cunt.

krusty_the_clown_by_LORD_LUCIFER_KV.jpg

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Had to arrange my Great Grandma's funeral when I was about 20. My mother and grandmother were out of the country. The old lady was 90 when she passed on, last few years festering in a nursing home. Since there were relatives out of the country I asked the minister if he could record the service. He said he had a tape player and he would. It was the old guy from St Nicholas Kirk that looked like Doc from Back to the Future if anyone remembers him. Anyway, come the funeral things didn't start well when only 9 people turned up. I hadn't organised a funeral before so didn't know how to go about the invitation process. Anyway, at the start of the service the minister brought in one of those old tape players with a speaker on top, the cassette space and a red button for record (which you would press along with play to record). He sat the thing down and instead of pressing record and play his finger must have slipped and he only pressed play. Out burst this stupid sounding piano music. He realised his error and got the thing recording - but by then it was too late. I had a fit of the giggles nae handy. My sister and I laughed the whole way through the funeral - even while the 9 mourners were leaving the crem and shaking our hands. The old lady lived until she was 90 and was seen off by eleven people including her two great grandchildren who laughed for the half hour of her service. Sorry Grandma.

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As my first funeral was my sister's when I was 14 it's hard not to put other people's funerals into the same perspective as you describe Kelt... The default solemnity when all you really want is for people to celebrate a life, have a good ol' sing song, a few drinks whatever... The fact that you have to spend the entire time walking a verbal and emotional minefield with people you've never met before is borderline torturous...

 

I've already done a video for my funeral... I hope it'll have everyone in tears of laughter by the end of it...

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As my first funeral was my sister's when I was 14 it's hard not to put other people's funerals into the same perspective as you describe Kelt... The default solemnity when all you really want is for people to celebrate a life, have a good ol' sing song, a few drinks whatever... The fact that you have to spend the entire time walking a verbal and emotional minefield with people you've never met before is borderline torturous...

 

I've already done a video for my funeral... I hope it'll have everyone in tears of laughter by the end of it...

 

Jesus min, not good, sorry to hear that.

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Funny as feck Kelt

 

Although not quite a funeral a few years back our family gathered to intern the ashes of my grandmother in the family lair. My father being the family elder had the job of taking her ashes from her temporary home on his mantle piece to the kirk.

As the family gathered with about 20 folk standing around the graveyard the minister started off on one of those good old fashioned religious monologues that you kind of switch off at. Anyway once he finished he turned to my old man and asked for the urn to be placed in the ground.

The expression on his face was a picture as he realized that she was definely no longer with us...she was still on the mantle piece. It fairly lightened the mood

 

But best funeral moment I have ever heard about was when one of my mates attended the funeral of an Aussie who was living in Stavanger. The lads brother had flown in for it and gave a eulogy which started off with the words "well he was aways a bit of a cunt". With a few ex pats in attendance it fairly lightened the mood

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I don't like to give my age away Dal Riata Don.

 

I'm also what might be termed lacking in compassion and empathy for my fellow human beings.

 

If someone dies I just think well, folk die all the time, no point getting too hung up about it.

 

I'm not one for attending the funerals of folk just because I have some loose connection to them.

 

I'll go to my mithers and faithers and that will be it until my own.

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I don't like to give my age away Dal Riata Don.

 

I'm also what might be termed lacking in compassion and empathy for my fellow human beings.

 

If someone dies I just think well, folk die all the time, no point getting too hung up about it.

 

I'm not one for attending the funerals of folk just because I have some loose connection to them.

 

I'll go to my mithers and faithers and that will be it until my own.

 

:crossfingers:

 

As long as I outlive my kids I'll die happy. :crossfingers:

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You're very slow on the uptake at the moment.

 

The heat must be getting to you.

 

Read what you wrote again, and then tell me that's what you meant to write.

 

 

It looks right.

 

If I outlive my kids I'll die happy.

 

If I die before my kids I'll have outlived them and therefore I'll die happy. :dontknow:

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