Thursday, 19 May 2011

My Eulogy

On more than one occasion I have claimed that I'm gonna live forever. I think when I said that I actually believed it. Call it the arrogance of youth, plain denial, or just the effects of  large amounts of cocaine and meth-amphetamines, who knows? All I do know is that I will die. It probably won't be today, or tomorrow, but one day I shall shuffle off this mortal coil and join the choir invisible (just kidding, he'll just be worm food).

I believe it's my right to have the kind of funeral I want (He worked all his life for it). As I've stated it many times, most of my friends will know that I want the music to be Smack My Bitch Up by Prodigy and My Way by Frank Sinatra. If I'm married then my wife can choose between playing or performing Like a Prayer by Madonna, one of the finest songs about a blow job I've ever heard. Magic.

The rest of it I want read out verbatim. Just fill the gaps in on stuff about my wife's name, number of kids, age of death (the stuff that doesn't really matter). And I don't care who reads it out, just as long as they give it a little jazz. Here we go -

Richard James Howarth. What is there to say about this man that he hasn't already said himself? (The irony isn't lost on me). He was born with a pair of bootstraps....and then he pulled himself up by them. Nothing was handed to him on a plate, he had a terrible porcelain phobia ever since he was four and he nearly choked to death on an egg cup.

It was at fifteen that Richard wrote his first real joke -"Furious with America and Coca-Cola's dominance of the soft drink market, Adolf Hitler, in collaboration with the owner of Becks beer, decided they would invent their own soft drink. Knowing that Hitler could be very demanding, Becks decided not to get too involved with the creative process. Months went by and then one night the owner of Becks received a call from Hitler, he explained how he'd been racking his brains for ages and then it suddenly came to him, "No Jews"- The product was a huge cultural and financial disaster." - The joke wasn't good but he was fifteen, he'd get better.

I think we'll most remember Richard for his sitcom, No You Didn't. Critics called it, "The sole reason for the dumbing down of our youth". "Poorly written, crude and obvious jokes, clichéd characters and re-hashed story-lines" - It was a massive success. He will also be remembered for that time he was doing stand up and he attacked a heckler with a tomahawk (god bless his soul). In his defence there isn't much of a comeback for "You're just not much of a performer"- well except for......oh wait, what's that? - Boom! Tomahawk!

I was with him when he met his wife (insert name), pretty face (of course), great personality (hopefully) and an ass like a seven year old boy (booya!). Together they have __ Children, called ______ , ______ and (though let's hope not) _________. They were perfect together, strawberries and cream, cocaine and hookers, Amaretto and eating pussy.......but they did other stuff together as well.

But I won't remember him for any of that. I'll remember him for the time my wife left me. He was the only one who was there for me. I was in a pit of despair and he got me out. He got me out. I'll never forget what he said to me that day "Don't worry, they're all prostitutes. It's on me". And I really ran up some extras cos I'm into some proper weird shit, but he just charged it all to his production company......and even drove her to the hospital. What a guy.

My Epitaph -
Here lies 
Richard James Howarth 
17/10/1986-_______
Died rescuing orphans from a burning building, went
back to retrieve valuables, tripped on his own penis,
burnt to death.

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