I just got back from the funeral of a dear family friends' mother.
Let me tell you, I hate a fucking funeral. I would rather go to a wedding than a funeral. Not because of the sadness of the occasion, but because they're such a pain in the ass. Allow me to explain.
First of all, the timing sucks. There's no way around this - either it's on a workday that I ain't getting paid for or it's on a Saturday when I got better shit to do. And if it's a graveside service the weather is usually fucked up, hotter than a motherfucker or cold and raining. Goddammit, if you're going to die and have a graveside service, try to do it in the spring or fall. If the service is inside, the benches are so uncomfortable it ain't funny. Don't motherfuckers that build that shit ever sit in them? I don't know, maybe it's to keep you from falling asleep.
Then you got some dude that doesn't even know the guest of honor or saw them maybe once a week at the most stand up there and tell everybody what a wonderful person he/she was. Bullshit - he/she was a fuckup just like everybody else is. Or that he/she led a "troubled" life. Again, bullshit - he/she was a fucking dope fiend, drunk, criminal, skirt chaser or whatever.
Then the motherfucker will start boring you to tears by going on and on about how we're all going to hell if we don't change our ways. I know that, somebody tells me to go to hell damned near every day. Do like they do and just tell me, don't go on and on about it. Don't you realize we're all standing up here? Keep it short and sweet, asshole, or my knee's gonna give out and I'm gonna fall over.
Then we're asked to share a special memory of the dead fucker. Most of the time, nobody does which tells me that the deceased wasn't really all that special. But once one person does, it seems like everybody has to share something that nobody listens to anyway. Damn, I got an idea. How about we just get this shit over with and get the fuck out of here?
Then there's the tears. Check it out - you've had damned near a week to get that shit out of your system. Quit sniveling or at least wait until you get home so I don't have to see it.
The music? It sucks. How about some George Strait or some ass-kicking Rock & Roll? You know, something to wake me up.
Okay. If I was to die in the near future, here's how it's gonna be.
Rock music, enough chairs for everybody, smokers seated downwind from everybody else, dogs are welcome to attend and a friend's gonna do the talking and it's gonna be short and sweet, something like this:
"Okay, check this shit out. We're here to pay our respects to Ken and bury his ass. He's survived by his family seated here in the front row and his dog CharlieGodammit, who's over there rolling in something nasty.
Ken had some good qualities and some fucked up ones. Y'all know what they were.
He loved bacon, fishing and trying to kill shit.
Okay, that about does it. There's beer in the cooler - grab one and get the hell out of here so you can enjoy the rest of the day.
Fuck Obama."
See? Short and sweet.
Sorry for your loss, man...but yeah you're right about the whole thing.
ReplyDelete"He's survived by his family seated here in the front row and his dog CharlieGodammit, who's over there rolling in something nasty."
That's just money...
LOL, i agree with every word!! You the shit , ken xx
ReplyDeleteCan I have CharlieGodammit if you bite the dust? I promise I'll say KYE-ote.
ReplyDeleteIf you're willing to give him a bath, Deb.
ReplyDeleteYup, celebrate (drink beer) the life they had, not mourn the death. We're all gonna croak.
ReplyDeleteI hate funerals to. Too damned many of them for my taste, family, friends, comrades-in-arms, colleagues, etc. I am now in the triple digits for funerals. I have seen somber ones, serious ones, crying jags, parades, drunken festivals, and everything in between. Never went to one short and sweet. I'd love to attend one like that, but only if there was several rifles and pistols lined up for a continuous "21+" salute on the way out.
ReplyDeleteObligatory comment:
ReplyDeleteMine exit is gonna be the opposite of my life. No service. No burial. Crate me & roast me. Spend flower money on beer and toast me.