Margaret Thatcher is to be given the ultimate accolade of a State funeral when she reaches the end of her days – the first British Prime Minister since Winston Churchill to be afforded such an honour.
Margaret Thatcher is to be given the ultimate accolade of a State funeral when she reaches the end of her days – the first British Prime Minister since Winston Churchill to be afforded such an honour.
As long as they don’t do it before she dies, this is definitely a good thing.
Mrs Prentiss: I just spent four hours buryin’ a ex-Prime Minister …
Mrs. Confusion: four hours to bury a ex-Prime Minister?
Mrs Prentiss: yes, She put up a ‘ell of a fight, wrigglin’ about, ‘owlin…
Mrs Confusion: so she weren’t dead yet then?
Mrs Prentiss: no, but she weren’t at all a well ex-Prime Minister, and as we was goin’ away for the weekend, I thought it were just as well to bury her now…
Mrs Confusion : yes, nothin’ worse than comin’ back from a weekend in Sorrento to a dead ex-Prime Minister
Sorry, couldn’t hold back.
Kind of OT…
You know, there’s a lady in Europe somewhere who is trying to get funeral directors to buy into freeze-drying and mulching cadavers. They dry you out, run you through a wood chipper, dig a hole, plant a tree and pour you in. I think that’s awesome. It’s either that or the tissue digester for me.
Of course, I’ll probably die alone. Exposure and dehydration will take their toll after falling behind the woodpile behind my trailer. The raccoons and coyotes will get me on the second night when I’m too tired to fight back and by the time the county realizes that the visiting nurse has been cashing my social security check for six months, they’ll only find an ulna, humerus, a left tibia and the artificial disk material from my sacral plexus. (let’s hope I can get it replaced, anyway. I’d like to golf again)