Porn’s part of the grieving process, right?
My grandmother died right after xmas a few years ago. First there was the slightly surreal viewing with my insane (hears voices, among other things) Great Aunt Lou and her drunken son showing up unexpectedly, Granddaddy in his wheelchair declaring, “We always thought I would go first, typical of LauraJean to steal my thunder”, and just the general slew of inappropriate comments that occur when you get the clan together.

Then came the funeral. As a solid lifetime member of the church, Grandma decided to forgo the church service in favour of a graveside one (up yours, Southwest Baptist!)…in December, in the wind. We had about 8,000 old biddies and duffers under that little tent out in the cold, waiting for two of her six sons to show. Half an hour later the two (!) ministers look at each other, shrug, and begin. Ten minutes later my uncles show up, buttoning their shirts and flicking away their cigarette butts. Sometimes it’s best not to ask. I’m in the front row with my little cousin wrapped up in my skirt; eyes rolled back in my head, trying to swallow my own tongue…I don’t go in for the Baptist-drone. All of a sudden my phone (with the charming ring tone of Hava Negila) starts to ring. With a shout of “OH SHIT!” I dive to shut it off. A check on the ID showed it to be my best friend, a call later reveled the content of the call, “I knew you’d be feeling down, how about coming over for dinner with my family and some bad porn.” I love my friends.
(Tanaqui, Tue 16 May 2006, 12:43, Reply)