First
... although I'm hoping to be a little late for my own

The last funeral I went too was a bit of a palarva. It was for this really old fat guy I knew called Charlie Macak. When I knew him he was going a little doolally but he insisted on one claim to fame - that shortly after war, when he was playing in this dance band in Canada, he had co-writen the lyrics to that popular playground classic the "hokey cokey". Anyway there was some confusion at the end of the funeral service as to who would be taking the coffin out to the hearse. Eventually six big burly blokes stepped forward to shoulder the casket and carry it out of the church. They'd only got about halfway down the aisle when one of them buckeled under the weight and the coffin dropped thunderously to the floor. The lid came off and out spilled poor old Charlie. Quick as a flash up jumped the funeral director and assorted ushers and set about getting him back into the coffin, but as soon as they put his left leg in all hell broke loose.
( buffet_the_appetite_slayer ٩(●̮̃•)۶ jacked in to the ICE on, Thu 11 Apr 2013, 14:24, 2 replies)

The beginning of time called.
It wants it's joke back.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 11 Apr 2013, 15:05, closed)

I was hoping that the early mention of the song was a red herring,
but it wasn't, was it? you cunt.
(FartThroughAWalkieTalkie wished you were dead in ditch on, Thu 11 Apr 2013, 17:37, closed)