targeted by funeral homes

I know l'm knocking on, but there's no need to keep reminding me. Now there's another funeral establishment sending me adverts. This one arrived today from the new place in Richmond.
I think they are trying to tell me something, not realising of course, that they are wasting their time, effort, and money, as l am indestructible.

toodle pip

keith richards funeral

I will never get to go to Keith Richards' funeral (if he ever dies), but at least l've got close.
Hence the evidence from Monday.

toodle pip

two funerals - bruce and kellie, plus a death sweepstake

On my two days off work last week, l went to two funerals.
Living the dream.

First off last Tuesday was Bruce Clark, a lad l knew from going to concerts and hanging around with many years ago. He died suddenly at Rosedale nursing home after a short illness, and did not want a religious ceremony, so was cremated at Darlington with little fuss, a good speech by Raz, an easy going vicar, and drinks at The Hildyard Arms and White shops afterwards. Also, his coffin was taken into the crematorium to the sound of Black Sabbath's 'Paranoid', and was sent to be cremated to the sound of Motorhead's 'Killed by Death'. Fine choices by Bruce, and certainly something different.
Here's one of the few photos l have of him. From many years ago at The Travaux club in Catterick. A tasty looking crew indeed, with Bruce the large fellow in the white shirt. There's also a photograph of me butt naked in The Hildyard Arms with Bruce pointing a dart at me (a mad night), but luckily for you lot, l don't know where it has been stashed.

On Friday, it was Kellie Kean's funeral at a packed Hipswell church. I know her family, and knew her mainly from drinking in The Wine Bar (Hunter's) at Catterick, and although she had been having seizures for years, it was still a shock when one killed her, as she was only 38 and so full of life. Her daughter Kennedy had just given birth to Kellie's grandaughter, so that made it even more emotional and sad. Don't know how her brother Gareth managed to read his poem about her between his sobbing, but he did so. Drinks at The Arc (Hanson club) afterwards, then back to The Wine Bar.
 
                             

Some may deem it in bad taste, but after Bruce's funeral, we talked of starting a sweepstake amongst myself and male mates, as to who would be next to visit the reaper. We are going to get a few of us who are roughly the same age, and all place some money with a safekeeping person for the winner. Here's the drunken starter list from that night.

That's it - off to check my insurance, and cut their brake pipes.

toodle pip

squibb's funeral, adam and the ants and the motive - plus slade!

I've had a busy time lately.
I was at York and Middlesbrough with Robbo last weekend, and then this week, there was Squibbs' funeral on Wednesday, (although l went off to work after it), then an Adam and the Ants tribute band at Catterick Village on Friday, followed by The Motive in Richmond on Saturday night. Plenty of people out and about, and stoppy backs on both Friday and Saturday (and in York). Apparently there's a load of photographs about to be emailed to me from Saturday in Richmond (I insisted they were not to be put on Facebook), and it was a pretty raucous affair, but excellent fun.

                                                        Adam Ant has let himself go a bit recently

It's a hard life, but sometimes you've got to put the hours in, and the funerals bring it home that you've got to try and enjoy life while you can, although l do have an assignment l have to complete and send off this week.
Next up, a Slade tribute band in Darlington on Saturday. So to get me in the mood....





By the way, the Adam Ant picture is actually two people l know, Jacket and Mrs Jacket.
Both mad.

toodle pip

henry and nessie's funerals

Rather sadly, l have just been to two funerals within a week of each other at St Anne's church in Hipswell, Catterick.  One was for a friends mother l knew (Nessie, Podge's mum), and the other was for an ex serviceman who l knew from drinking with in my local pub (Henry Jennings).
Nessie had cancer, and l called in at her birthday party in Richmond on 9th August, as everyone knew it would be her last, seeing as she was given about two months to live six months ago.  She looked well, was in top form, but sadly died two weeks to the day afterwards. lt was all back to the sunny Unicorn beer garden afterwards, and she would have laughed at the cd getting stuck as she was carried out of church,as she was certainly a character. The picture of her drinking a pint is from the aforementioned birthday bash, making the most of what life she had left.
As for Henry, he was a man who rose through the ranks in the army (Royal Signals), but was captured during the war in Korea, and spent nearly three years in a prisoner of war camp in the 1950's, which he described as a very harrowing place (to put it mildly). Sadly for him, his wife and children suffered early deaths, and he developed Dementia in the last stage of his life, but after he died, was bought up from his care home in Eastbourne to be buried at Catterick (where his home was).

He is also commemorated in a painting smashing up his radio set before being captured, a copy of which is still displayed  in Hunters wine bar, and is used as the cover of the above book.
Both services were kept short, with only the one song/hymn, which in both cases was 'All things bright and beautiful', but in Henry's case, it was back to The Wine Bar (Hunters) afterwards.
Everyone grows old and dies, but it was a great idea to have an early picture of Henry larking about on the back of his order of service, to remind people that he was once a young, good looking man with a wicked sense of humour and fun.
It's a cliche to state that funerals put things into perspective, but that's not going to prevent me from stating that it is true, so try and enjoy life. In the great randomness of the Cosmos, most things aren't worth the hassle of worrying about.
Or to quote Bobby McFerrin - Don't worry - be happy.

toodle pip

another funeral - hazel foster

Unfortunately, l had to attend another funeral yesterday, that of Hazel Foster, a woman l had known on and off for years, but got to know well over the last year. She will be missed by a lot of people.

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mad pierre

And another one bites the dust (as Queen would say).

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thatchers funeral - the sun cover

While looking at some photographs of Margaret Thatcher's (milk snatcher's) funeral today (making sure the witch is still dead), l saw this Sun newspaper front cover, which l was drawn to for one reason.
I know and take the piss out of one of these featured fellows about football, as he is a Liverpool fan (but his wife still loves him). Therefore inside information about the funeral and all it's preparations are available from me at the right price and the usual address.
Not really (confidentiality and all that), but it's a small interlinked world.

toodle pip

charlie's funeral

One of the bad thing about getting old is that everyone starts dying around you, and you end up going to funerals, not weddings, especially if you are an old indestructible git like myself. One of the funerals was yesterday, for Charlie McCabe, Mark from J.T's uncle.  It was held at the packed out St John's Church in Hipswell, and was hardly unexpected, as he had been given six months to live about 4 years ago (he had lung cancer). We all went to The Arc afterwards for some drinks and food, then myself, Rocker, Ritchie, Frenchie and Dave Diamond headed to the wine bar and J'T's later on. There followed drunken games of 'Killer' and then it was home for the footie (a 1-1 yawnfest between England and Montenegro). The actual service was one of the better ones l have been to, as there was hardly any singing to be done, just the one song in fact (Morning Has Broken), as the others were CDs that were played. Not that l sing in church myself you understand, but it's good that there wasn't loads of hymns.

toodle pip

it was 3 years ago today - edna's funeral

Time certainly is flying by. It was three years ago today that l was down in Walsall with the FPO and her family for the funeral of her grandmother on her mothers side, Edna (Collins).
It certainly wasn't a solemn occasion, and we had a good time down there, but it was made better by the fact Edna had not been scared of death, as she was very religious, and she looked forward to meeting up with her husband again (who was already dead).
I don't believe in the afterlife myself, but if it gave her comfort, and supported her during her illness, that's certainly fine by me.

toodle pip

mercy brown and the undead

I was listening to a Halloween podcast (The Memory Palace) that told the true story of Mercy Brown in 1892. Because of various deaths in the family, George Brown (the father), who lived in Exeter, Rhode Island, was told by his neighbours that the deaths were due to undead activity, and one of the recently deceased from his family must still be visiting the house and draining the life away from other members of the household. He exhumed the bodies of his wife and two daughters (which included Mercy), and because Mercy's body was still in excellent shape (being dead for only two months in freezing conditions), he was convinced it was her doing the visiting, so he took out her heart, burnt it, mixed it with water, and gave it to his son Edwin to drink, as he was unwell at the time. It (obviously) didn't work, as Edwin died two months later. When all of this happened, Manchester United had been going for 14 years, it was only 22 years before the start of the First World War, cars had just been invented and it just shows how mad, superstitious and gullible people could be, even at that time. Amazing, but then again, l am sure there will be people alive in the present time who believe in this undead/afterlife nonsense.

toodle pip

funeral at darlington crematorium and blackwell grange

What a gay afternoon. Went to the work funeral at Darlington Crematorium, then back to The Blackwell Grange for a cup of tea (I drank Jack and Coke).

Rather sadly, l was asked by the family (about 2 minutes before the task) to carry the coffin from the hearse into the crematorium (obviously l leapt at the chance).

Of course l was more that willing to oblige, as it was a last minute invitation and l did not have to think about it beforehand, but it was also an experience l was not planning on getting from the day. I was also at the front, and led, so l suppose that is also something else to tick off, but the coffin dust made it look as though l had loads of dandruff (the FPO wiped it off).

Had to make small talk with the family afterwards then back to sunny old Catterick for a couple of quick ales before going home.

Met one of the staff team who had been at the funeral, and lo and behold, she received a call while we were talking and drinking that said her nan had died. What an end to the day.

Then again.... heartless bastard that l am, it gave me an excuse to have another ale, then myself and the FPO left the staff member, got some chips and wine for home, and buggered off. A good day for myself and the FPO, not so good for work related stuff and deaths.

toodle pip

elsies funeral

Had to drag myself out of bed today after being sick during the night, as although l was not fit enough for work, l didn't want to miss Elsie's funeral. Luckily the FPO was going and I got a lift there and then back again afterwards when l had had enough. Felt sick as a dog all the way through it but it was a good service.
Spent the rest of the day in bed or lying down on the settee, reading, sleeping and doing nothing. Not a bad day after all then.

toodle pip

megan and mowgli

Another fine day today. I was at work earlier on and took someone to Megan’s funeral at St Annes in the Village. There were quite a few people there as she was 82 and a lot of people in Catterick Village knew her. It was a bit strange though, as she only had one daughter, and she spoke during the service about trying to be friends with her mother and not succeeding.
I only knew Megan as a nice old lady in the Village, but it was clear that she could be hard on people as well as caring and generous.
I took B up to the front for wine and bread, but had to be extra careful as we had to walk past the coffin which was raised up on a flimsy looking platform, so there was a chance B might have knocked it off. That would have been something to see, but luckily for me (and everybody else), everything was OK.
Also went to get the remains of Mowgli today, as he had come back from the crematorium (not by his own steam of course). Got presented with a paper bag with a box inside, but upon opening the box, discovered a smaller green container with the ashes in, plus a card. It also had Mowgli’s name on it which was a really thoughtful thing for them to do, so top marks to them. Looks like that is where Jacko will be going when he pops it (or beforehand if I keep finding puke).
Not sure where to store Mowgli at the moment, but as long as the box does not get knocked so the ashes spill out, I don’t really mind.
Nozzer might get stuffed.
Toodle pip

edna and damage

Had a good time with Robbo and Kerry in the Boro at the weekend, Joe Rigatoni's on Friday night and the Cross Keys on Saturday. They told me that Damage had died (a lad from the Boro that we knew). I wasn't really surprised, in fact they said "Have you heard about Damage?", to which I replied "Is he dead?".

We also talked about how time is flying by. It is 11 years nearly, since that glorious night that Manchester United won the treble in 1999. We are certainly not getting any younger, but could all do with having loads more money to live life to the full before dying (lots more travel etc).

It is also a year since Edna died. That also does not seem that long ago, but the programme of service above confirms the dates.

Wonder how many more will be going this year. I can't believe Rab and Joe F have long left, but I have thought that for a while. They will probably both outlive me. Gits.

toodle pip

inheritance

I have been reading about the tailor Doug Hayward. He became pretty successful but he remained proud of his Cockney roots; and every week until her death in 1984 he visited his mother, Winifred (who had worked in a bullet-making factory during the war), presenting her each time with a £1 note to pay for her meals-on-wheels.


When she died the family found this money preserved in 15 ice-cream boxes under her bed, along with a note reading: "This money is to get Doug out of prison when they finally get him." She did not believe that her son could earn so much money as a tailor, and assumed that he must have criminal connections.



I can't believe I did not find any boxes like that when my Mother died, as she must have thought that I would end up in jail (again).

On the other hand, I suppose I never took round money every week. Swings and roundabouts I guess.



Toodle pip

Sir Bobby Robson

Sir Bobby Robson died today after his 5th bout of cancer. When l was in the Wine bar last Monday, there was a picture of Sir Bobby on the front of the Northern Echo at the England v Germany charity match. We said then he looked at deaths door but didn't thing he was that close to death.
Been listening to various radio stations while l have been out and about today and there have been a lot of tributes poring in, saying what a nice man he was and how much he loved football.
Fair enough with people saying he seemed like a nice man, but half the people spoken to had never met the man, and were stating things as though they were fact.
The radio presenters didn't help either. I know they have a job to do but some of the questions were pathetic. Asking ex players about Sir Bobby who admitted they had never played for him, just knew him a bit. Once again, fair enough. But they were then being asked "What was he like in the changing room at half time?" and "Did he give the hairdryer treatment at half time" when the player had already stated they had not been in a changing room with him.
Other people saying "He was lovely, always had time for people, such a nice man" etc and then saying "I have been crying all day about his death, mind you, I never met the man".
This to me just cheapens it all. He did seem to be a generous and nice man but who the hell am l to know?. Let his family get on with mourning as they are the ones that did know him. Feel sad or grieved if you want, but don't pretend you knew the man.

toodle pip

wrestling midgets

Wrestling Midgets 'Killed By Fake Prostitutes'

11:59am UK, Friday July 03, 2009

Two professional midget wrestlers found dead in a low-rent hotel room may have been drugged by female robbers, according to Mexican authorities.

Post mortems are being carried out on La Parkita - or Little Death - who wore a skeleton costume in the ring and Espectrito Jr.
The twin brothers, real names Alberto and Alejandro Jimenez, reportedly had been entertaining two prostitutes on the night of their deaths.
Police said two women were seen leaving the men's hotel room shortly before the bodies were discovered by a cleaner.
Prosecutor Miguel Angel Mancera said gangs of female robbers are experienced at using drugs to knock men out and rob them but they may have used too strong a dose.
The wrestlers' small stature means they may have succumbed to the drugs more easily, although larger men have also died in similar crimes.
The bodies of the two men, both aged 35, were found at a hotel a short distance from the Arena Mexico wrestling venue in Mexico City.
Midget wrestling had a huge following in the 50s and 60s but its popularity has waned across the world.
But the sport is still enormously popular in Mexico and fans are said to be mourning its two most famous stars.

You couldn't make up a story like this

toodle pip

computer update

Still have not got the main computer fixed, although it is now out of the house being repaired and may even be ready today, l have to phone about it later. Still cursing having to use the laptop, prefer to fiddle with my little mouse (ooeerr).

Nozzer the rabbit still has a scab on his head from his pussy removal (ooeerr again), but is pretty perky. Have to keep giving him antibiotics and bathing his head, so we'll see how he goes. Apparently if it happens every 6 weeks or so it is pretty bad and he won't live long. lf it is every 6 months or so, we can carry on treating him.

Been down to Walsall for Mandy's nans funeral (Edna), also a memorial service at Stockton. Also Rab's missus Dots funeral in Catterick and Tommy Pikes, also in Catterick. They are going down like flies (ooeerr again - think l need a lie down).

Toodle pip