Funeral stories

Here are a few:

My Sisters ex husbands long long trip to the after life….
My sisters ex died suddenly of an excess of gravity (twat fell into a hold on a ship pissed while shouting abuse at a deck hand working for him). Now my sister and him hated each others guts but for the sake of the kid she did the right thing with the inlaws at the funeral, she was greatly surprised to be handed the casket a while later as they were sure she would know what he would have wanted done with it as he had left no specific instructions.

So being the woman scorned she did the following, (please note he hated all the following places and services with a vengeance).

1 Dropped his ashes in several Micky D, Little Chief fine food establishments.
2 Places small amount in envelopes and sent them to non existent address around the world with no return address( he hated the post office for some reason!)
3 Mixed with bread and feed to seagulls, he hated these and their plop (shame as he is part plop now)…
4 She asked me to deposited some in urinals so he could be pissed on by strangers. ( I obliged her by doing this in several establishments including the George in Dublin (very pink establishment) as he was a skank homophobe as well…
5 He wanted to be laid to rest at sea being a jolly jack tar, We feed some to his remains to his dogs so he could be shit out a dogs ass. then flushing same, so he could take the long journey to the sea via the sewers in a dog doo raft (not quite the Styx , I should have jammed a few coins in the log for Charon)..
6 The rest of his ashes are still in my sisters bedroom so he can witness her not faking an orgasm…

A friend of mine...
attended his Uncle's funeral at the impressionable age of 6. As the coffin was lowered slowly into the grave, he mistook the priest's sombre words "Unto the father, the son and unto the holy ghost" for "Unto the father, the son, and into the hole he goes"!

Dad had died... his coffin was brought back to the house...
... so people could pay their last respects.

During the last weeks as he was sedated before dying, visitors were refused access to preserve both his dignity and his memory. It seemed only fair that his friends and further family could visit him at home for one final farewell.

Picture the scene. The close family are gathered around the coffin in the dining room. My brother-in-law tactfully softened the lighting ready for the candles to be brought out.

No-one could say anything. Eventually my brother found the courage to ask "do you think he's up there looking down on us?" a tremble in his voice.

Tears welled in my eyes. My sister remained silent. All eyes turned to the coffin.

And then... amazingly... the lights became incredibly, fiercely bright. In a split second the room was then pitched into absolute darkness.

Silence.

Then the lights slowly returned to their previous softness.

Mum hopefully looked up to the heavens for another impossible sign from my dear, deceased father... as my brother-in-law, with real fear in his voice announced:

"Sorry everyone... I just leant on the dimmer switch."

Still laughing with him about that a couple of years later. Truly worthy of Frank Spencer.

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