With apologies to anyone who's just lost someone, and without wishing to be morbid, its in the post innit? As me dear old Nan used to say, âOf three things we may be sure son. Death, tax and hedgesâ. A bunch of Sikhs torched a guy in a field near Newcastle yesterday. Built a big pyre around him, dropped a match then tried to stay upwind. He was dead before they dropped the match. Otherwise it would be weird. Heâs the one under the sheet. The Rozzers are investigating because they didnât have permission. Aye. Just seems thereâs lots more interesting ways to go these days. There are certain rules. Like you want weeping women and men choked up because they are never going to see that monkey they lent you at the races. You want your Missus lamping the mystery blond in the dark glasses who turns up. You want a scary old guy walking around whispering âIs it safe?â to mourners. Given that all happens, whatâs your plan and what tune do you want as you glide up the aisle? I want âRemember youâre a Wombleâ by The Wombles. Like Iâm going to miss the chance to wind up me mates one last time and stick that bloody tune in everyoneâs head all day long?