A slowed down version of Creep played acoustically at half speed and eventually drenched in synths.

It's coming home

anything by meatloaf

I would almost certainly have to get back on the drink to do a month of reality TV so I will go with this.

Probably any song that I actually enjoyed as I’d likely never be able to listen to it again.

It Wasn't Me by Shaggy. Hopefully, if I’ve done Reality TV right.

The Benny hill theme

Question no. 2

Family anecdotes of legend. What's your favourite? 

Mine is perhaps one that mostly concerns my brother and eldest sister, who somewhat shared a friendship group growing up. Within this circle of friends was one very nice chap called Joe Riley.  There were quite a few Joes about town, so he was always referred to by his full name. He was an absolutely top guy, much loved by all who knew him, but particularly my bro and sis, who both considered him amongst their closest of friends. 

Joe Riley was, however, exceptionally dim, but in a uniquely endearing manner. It’s hard to summarise the vibe and energy he brings to social gatherings, but perhaps the most concise approximation i could give would be to imagine a bemusingly optimistic Karl Pilkington.

Anyway, i’ve probably mentioned before that i come from a family of cat lovers.  Everyone is cat mad, so much so that we sometimes affectionately refer to mum’s place as The Cat Factory.  I don’t think we ever had fewer than 6 or 7 cats,  and for brief moments in time this number climbed as high as the late teens, after a large litter of kittens arrived. 

Over the years, cats of all sorts of varying characters and personalities came and went, but every so often we’d end up with one that was truly special. Amongst the most memorable of these was a small tabby kitten, born of one of our other cats. We’ve had profoundly stupid cats in the past, but this one really set a new benchmark. I could double the length of this post by describing his quirks in detail, but i won’t. Suffice to say he became an instant family favourite, and anyone/everyone who met him loved him. 

Given this cat’s nature and personality, it was very easy for everyone to agree that Joe Riley was an especially fitting name for him, and just like my siblings’ close friend, this cat was always referred to by his full name. It’s really testament to human Joe Riley’s charming simplicity that the reason for us naming the cat this way never even occurred to him.

Anyway, one morning my mum was woken up by the sound of banging at the door. It was our neighbour who had found a dead cat in her driveway. It had evidently been hit by a car, and she recognised it as belonging to us. Tragically, Joe Riley was dead.

Knowing how dearly this cat was loved, mum knew it would be a tough job breaking the news to everyone. My sister had stayed at her boyfriend’s house overnight, while my brother was visiting his girlfriend in Sweden. She decided to give my sister a call first.

“Hello darling. I’m afraid I have some very sad news. Joe Riley is dead. He was hit by a car last night”

Thinking she’d lost her closest friend, my sister breaks down into floods of tears. She’s utterly inconsolable.  Mum knew she would take the news badly- she always does with these things- but even she was surprised by how hard this news appeared to hit her. 

My sister volunteered to relay the news to my brother, who was also understandably devastated. The tragic news then pinged from friend to friend, and the truth of the situation wasn’t realised until mum mentioned her plan to have him buried in the back garden.

Brilliant last line there. 10/10 would read again.

I really must make a video of my mum telling it in her own words sometime. With the tears of laughter rolling down her face she can never find the composure to utter that final sentence at the first attempt,  and this makes me enjoy it even more

afgavinstan wrote:

Can't really top that tbh noxy.

That's a cracker.

Top LOLs Noxy.

That was indeed brilliant.
While I have a load of funny story's in a shit writer so I won't even be trying.
Great Fred though.

Splendid tale from @equinox_code there.

My Dad came home one Saturday night with his library books under his arm (still unreturned), pissed out of his head. This wasn't that unusual.

The British Army had been kind enough to give him a lift home in a landrover. My mother was not impressed.

He was clutching a small branch in his hand. He was having a piss in the bushes and his glasses fell off. The Army stopped because they saw him crawling around in the undergrowth. They chucked him in the back of the van, got his address out of him and dropped him off at our door.

He said that the branch was off a large bush he was standing beside when he was pissing and his glasses fell off.

Next morning he marched us a mile or so up the road, located the bush and his glasses.