Homage to quentin,
My Gran died a couple of years back, and to be honest nothing will fill the void she's left.

On the day of the funeral i managed to hold it together quite well, bearing in mind that i was also entrusted to be a pallbearer. The ceremony went well and the wake afterward was occupied by people who we genuinely wanted there. All in all, pleasant...as funerals go.

Later in the day it was time for my parents to leave to reurn to Bristol. As soon as the car went out of sight i ordered my housemate to come to the pub with me and seeing as he knew full and well i was losing grip of the whole 'being strong' thing he duly obliged.

Walking to the pub we encoutered some street urchins....one of whom came out with the oh-so-origonal phrase; "Why the fuck do you look like one of them dicks from Resevior Dogs?"

Before i could even think of retaliating my mate leapt forward and hit the guy with such force it knocked his two front teeth right out. Blood everywhere...spectacular stuff.

My mate then shouts at the top of his voice..."BECAUSE YOU'RE A FAGGOT" (if you haven't seen the film, you'll get nothing from this).

It actually makes no sense as a conversation, but god damn did it brighten my day. And i'm glad i was with someone who knows me so well because put it this way, in the state i was in that day, i would have killed the Burburry clad mong. Now i just chuckle at the sight of my 5ft nothing mate leaping to my 6ft3 rescue!
( The Pollitt chooses to listen to Enya on, Thu 18 May 2006, 14:49, Reply)