There’s no easy way to put it. When you get right down to brass tacks, I’m not adverse to having the extremely occasional dead body hanging about the place.

Now don’t get me wrong! I’m not out there digging up peoples beloved relatives and dusting them off back at the flat, but I do think there’s nothing particularly weird about having a wake at my place should the need arise. Of course, I also recognise that dead bodies are just kind of creepy. They’re so damn grey and waxy looking. One minute your relative is prancing about the place singing crap 40s songs and generally making an arse of themself, and the next they’re laid out in a box wearing clothes they wouldn’t normally be seen in.

Pretty shitty deal that having someone who may well still be pissed of at getting no inheritance picking out the clothes you’ll always be remembered by. I can just see one of my brothers getting me kitted out on a lime green polyester suit… the fcukers…

Anywho. Why the blog on death? Just a thought. A conversation about tangi the other day made me appreciate how important it is to have someone keeping the deceased company after they shuffle off the mortal coil. And then I thought, what in the hell is a mortal coil, I bet wikipedia has an answer. And hey, whaddya know, apparently it’s a line from Hamlet.

When it comes down to it, being sent to a big cold place with a bunch of strangers who undress you, pump you full of weird liquids, and prepare you for the afterlife is a pretty blimmin strange way to manage the death experience. So, personally, I’m thinking Māori and the Irish have got the right idea. Keep the dead with you until such time as the grieving process has had a chance to work its way through. There’s undoubtably a great deal of cultural mores and norms behind the why of the matter, but frankly all I’m concerned about is the welfare of the deceased.

And why? Because I’ve seen that movie Kissed, and while I welcome the idea of being used by a slight, etheral and wistfully attractive girl while unconscious, I cannot of good conscience condone such behaviour. (Actually, check out that link. The movies recommended to me were Basic Instinct, Re-Animator, Last Tango in Paris, All the right moves, Caligula. So that’s films about, respectively, a Cadaver and a weird woman, dead people in a horror setting, a fat old dead guy and a girl, an actor so wooden he may as well be dead, and some dead Roman with seriously sick tastes. These things always make sense when you deconstruct them).

And I hear you ask, why the sudden concern with the issue of necrophilia? And why want to shelter a dead relative in one’s house?

This about says it all.


Nice enough sounding guy. Grows Angus beef. But. Suspicious moustache. Very highly suspicious. Except in Texas where they’re “into that kind of thing”.

But not as suspicious as… The Men of Mortuaries. WARNING: Image over the jump may burn retina.


You reckon the guy second from the right is the only real funeral director? And the the guy hiding behind the gravestone is his (possibly highly excited) boss? You’ll notice the latter didn’t make the calendar website.

Note to self: Do not trust relatives with these half-naked idiots.