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Thread: I have an old friend whose wife

  1. #1

    I have an old friend whose wife

    is dying of the cance. In fact, she has been sent home with a hospital bed and a load of morphine to await the inevitable. They are both posting their thoughts daily on facebook, she, I guess, only in her most lucid moments.

    Oddly, he is asking today for a show of hands for the funeral so he can start planning the food.

    I mean. Fúck me. She's reading this shít.

  2. #2
    Quote Originally Posted by Sir C View Post
    is dying of the cance. In fact, she has been sent home with a hospital bed and a load of morphine to await the inevitable. They are both posting their thoughts daily on facebook, she, I guess, only in her most lucid moments.

    Oddly, he is asking today for a show of hands for the funeral so he can start planning the food.

    I mean. Fúck me. She's reading this shít.
    Sorry to hear that, but you should definitely make sure they have lots of little sausages. I love little sausages.

  3. #3
    Quote Originally Posted by Burney View Post
    Sorry to hear that, but you should definitely make sure they have lots of little sausages. I love little sausages.
    With a nice dip as well..it's what she would have wanted.
    Northern Monkey ... who can't upload a bleeding Avatar

  4. #4
    Quote Originally Posted by Burney View Post
    Sorry to hear that, but you should definitely make sure they have lots of little sausages. I love little sausages.
    The best part about funerals is the buffet. Deep fried snacks? Yes, I very much think so. I mean, the cocktail sausages rock, obviously, but there should also be chicken wings, cheap samosas, little spring rolls and mini scotch eggs. Basically, an Iceland party platter.

  5. #5
    Quote Originally Posted by Pokster View Post
    With a nice dip as well..it's what she would have wanted.
    And pork pies. And scotch eggs. Ooh, and those little mini Yorkshire puddings with a bit of beef and horseradish on.

    I love a buffet, me.

  6. #6
    Quote Originally Posted by Burney View Post
    And pork pies. And scotch eggs. Ooh, and those little mini Yorkshire puddings with a bit of beef and horseradish on.

    I love a buffet, me.
    My word, I am reminded of the time I was discovered by the glw, naked on a hotel bed, drinking scotch whisky from a toothmug and eating Co-Op cocktail sausages whilst watchign Gareth Malone coach a choir of disableds, weeping uncontrollably.

    Possibly my finest hour.

  7. #7
    Ask him to clearly label the sandwiches which contain egg
    I do so hate playing egg roulette with any buffet when it comes to the sandwiches on offer
    10 characters? Pile of cund.

  8. #8
    Quote Originally Posted by Sir C View Post
    The best part about funerals is the buffet. Deep fried snacks? Yes, I very much think so. I mean, the cocktail sausages rock, obviously, but there should also be chicken wings, cheap samosas, little spring rolls and mini scotch eggs. Basically, an Iceland party platter.
    See below. Although you always feel a bit bad about really piling your plate up at a funeral imo. It looks bad.

    I have a press colleague whose buffet technique is so good that he's able to manage three proper platefuls, two drinks AND a dessert after a press conference and still be out the door within half an hour. It's like watching an artist at work.

    I think the thing that would bother me in this lady's situation is seeing a party planned that I wasn't going to be able to attend.

  9. #9
    Quote Originally Posted by Sir C View Post
    My word, I am reminded of the time I was discovered by the glw, naked on a hotel bed, drinking scotch whisky from a toothmug and eating Co-Op cocktail sausages whilst watchign Gareth Malone coach a choir of disableds, weeping uncontrollably.

    Possibly my finest hour.
    And masturbating vigorously no doubt

  10. #10
    Quote Originally Posted by Sir C View Post
    My word, I am reminded of the time I was discovered by the glw, naked on a hotel bed, drinking scotch whisky from a toothmug and eating Co-Op cocktail sausages whilst watchign Gareth Malone coach a choir of disableds, weeping uncontrollably.

    Possibly my finest hour.
    Was that Oxford?

    Also, why was Gareth Malone weeping uncontrollably?

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