Correction.

A few months ago when I posted my blog detailing proceedings for my funeral, I told you that I didn't know anyone who shares my spiritual beliefs AND makes money from doing so.

This statement has since become absolute bollocks.

Her name is Eve Adam (yes for real) and her qualifications are as follows:

• she has a bizarre blend of interesting yet reasonable beliefs (except that one about DNA/Palladians and the Middle East)
• she is my friend
• she is a Pisces
• she really doesn't like the name George
• she can belly dance
  
• she is a militant vegan yet is a strong advocate of human organ transplantation
  
• she is now qualified as a civil celebrant
• she has already agreed to do it providing she still has breath in her own lungs

So let it be written, so let it be done.

My fucking ripper of a funeral.

Jeff's suggested title for this blog was THIS IS NOT A DRILL. LOL @Jeff.

Just to let you know, my funeral will be very long.
So wear comfortable shoes.
Or no shoes at all, what do I care?

Don't panic, I'll not be taking up your time with religious nonsense, but with music, tea, laughs and a couple of live acts.

I have some very specific wishes, so I'd like to outline this all here and now, entrusting these plans to Clair and perhaps Yoga Boy.

Should both of them predecease me, instructions may be handed over to Taryn (who will hate them all, but carry them exactly), and maybe chkn and Monica.

I would like some Buddhist monks there to chant and do whatever it is that they do. It's not my belief as such, I just like the robes.

Because I don't actually know anyone who shares my spiritual beliefs, let alone anyone who makes a living from them, I think it's just simpler to ask people to write a few lines of what they thought of me (like a report card) and have someone read them out. That way no-one feels pressured to speak.

No priests. Don't trust 'em.
In fact, if one even happens to be walking by, I'd like the Benny Hill music to start up and everyone to pile out and chase the bastard down.
Yes. I'd like that.

No Jesus, no Christian prayers, no hymns.
At no point do I want the word amen uttered.
Should anyone feel the need to do so, they may replace it with glory glory instead.

Plainest coffin possible, red and green flower arrangement.
No carnations, babies breath or gladiolas - puke.
Souths flag on the coffin please.
No photos.

And please, no White Lady funerals. Those women look so stupid in those hats that the sound of my corpse spinning nearby may detract from the overall ambiance and tone of the proceedings. Probably not though. ;O)

You're welcome to wear black (I do so love black), but the request for people to also wear something red or green must be taken seriously. Souths jerseys considered appropriate.

Any Roosters supporters in attendance must stand together in one corner, facing the wall in a state of contrition.
They know why.

Tea and coffee is to be available all throughout the service. Good stuff too. Can you hire a couple of carts? Not Gloria Jeans, they support Hillsong.

OK, so to the entertainment... I cannot think of a time or place where you need entertaining more than at a funeral, so honestly, I don't know why it is so commonly overlooked.
Well, not on my watch.

• at the beginning - 2 bellydancers - 1 dressed in red, 1 dressed in green, but NO audience participation to be requested...it's a funeral FFS ;O). No, that just really annoys me...seriously, do your own job - I never ask people to join in while I'm doing mine.
  
• at the end - if Jo's still kicking, I'd like her to sing Glory Glory, as she has an excellent voice and no-one means it more than her. A song sheet (designed by Clair, with loads of stickers) will have been distributed so that everyone may join in. If Jo's feeling frisky, a round of "Still hate the Roosters" is definitely in order.
  
• finally, a group of bagpipes is to join in and the event is to conclude with them walking out playing Glory Glory.
• at this point, anyone with the balls to start the South Sydney chant, is be remembered in my Will (well, not really, but it sounded very Agatha Christie to say so, didn't it?)
• bonus points to anyone prepared to start the "bullshit!" chant randomly during the service. My money's on my brother-in-law, Greg, as he's successfully started it at every Souths game we've ever been to together during the last 20 years. He started it at the Cannes Film Festival too, when his Z-grade horror film was playing there, but he changed "bullshit!" to the film's title, which was, "Bloodspit!"
  

The music for the service and the wake is with Clair and Adrian, although I do need to update the listing.
Punctuate proceedings with tunes as you please.

I have yet to decide the venue for either the service or the wake, but neither will be anywhere churchy or deathy.
I'll let you know, otherwise, Clair would best decide on the service (outside is OK by me so long as the sound is good), Taryn would be the right person to decide about the wake.

Well, there you have it.
I've related most of these requests to people bit by bit over the last few years, but I thought it was best to cough it all up at once, firstly so that you can sort it out, and secondly, so that you may look forward to it. LOL

No burial. Yuk, I have no wish to be landfill.

I'd like my ashes to be, well actually, I don't really care where most of them go, but I would like some of them to be scattered around under that tree in the Domain where we sit for Opera in the Park each year. That way, I will be there nice and early for each performance and I can mind the spot. Shit, I just realised, that means I will also have to sit through Carols by Candlelight- eeewwww.

Just stuff the rest somewhere sunny.

I feel rather good now that that's sorted out.

So, my friends, when I stop seeing you tomorrow, I'll see you on the other side.


Up the Rabbitohs!

luv sim xo

PS I'm serious.

How sweet the sound.

NOVA be damned!
I'm upgrading to the Inner Self publication.

Seems to me that the editors of this gem had a wee peek at Nova and more or less republished with a little more glitter and a lot less substance.

I could only bring myself to flick through this thing, so I'm just going to present you with a garbled mash of the nonsense that struck me.

Firstly, to Umesh...

Mate, either get rid of that fearsome mullet or stop claiming to be "blessed with visions, psychic experiences, esoteric metaphysical knowledge and guidance from both physical and non-physical Heavenly Masters."
No-one's buying that shit. Not even blissed out hippies or new age f(l)akes. They're just not.
Honestly, would you wear socks and sandals to a job interview?
OK, so that was a poor choice of question.
Why can't I believe that you have glimpsed the divine but you've never spotted the wretched mullet in the mirror.

Everyone knows that the correct hair-do for someone with divine access is grey, balding, slicked back and pony tail. More commonly known as "the wanker" or the "how was your trip to Thailand?"

How was your trip to Thailand, by the way?

Anyhow, I'm following his advice, radiating my inner calm and transforming into a being of power by awakening my personal power source while experiencing a quantum shift in awareness.

Is it OK to do that in public?

Oh, here's something.
Same page even, how convenient.

An advertisement for a vintage New Age shop.
I'm sorry, a what?

Their store motto?

"We know what we're talking about."

Next up, the Sassy Vibes vibrator range.
To re-awaken your sexual self. No chemical smells.

They all seem to be a in all the typically spiritually acceptable colours such as purple and aqua blue.
The Snugglepuss looks kinda like an old school telephone handset while the Rabbit Habit, well let's just say it doesn't look particularly ladylike.

I wonder why, with all the imagination these people so obviously have, not one of them has invented a dildo that looks like a dolphin. You'd sell a million. Bit of glitter, couple of feathers... easy.
Upon my just relaying this information to dear old Yoga Boy in the lounge room, he suggested that it be known as The Porpussy.

What else?

Aah, yes indeed.
An article entitled The Healing Power of Sex, which offers us the following information...

It seems that the author has, "...come to understand that to feel sexually aroused is a common reaction to the death of a loved one."

Bags not consoling her at a funeral.

Also, girls, she suggests setting time aside to have an orgasm whenever you have period pain.

Comments anyone?
I mean from anyone with a uterus, of course.

Now, I've never really been plagued with period pain, but the few times I was, I just don't remember wanting a good shellacking.
I do remember wanting tea, chocolate, cats, slippers and a book.

Is there something wrong with me?

Furthermore, I have lost many beloved friends and family and experienced plenty of grief during my 39 years.
At not one of these funerals or wakes did it ever cross my mind to get it on to the overtly sexual tones of Amazing Grace.
I wonder if that's why they always refer to it as the stirring sounds of Amazing Grace?
Christians, huh. You can't take them anywhere.

You'll be glad to know that I've chosen Glory Glory to South Sydney as my funeral anthem.
You may all do as you please when that comes on, I don't mind.
Actually, I insist.
Clair, you're in charge, OK?

You're now doomed to think of this next time you hear that song. That's my gift to you.

And just in case any of you feel like getting in the mood right now, I'll leave you with this.

How sweet the sound. ;O)


Amazing Grace

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
That sav’d a wretch like me!
I once was lost, but now am found,
Was blind, but now I see.

’Twas grace that taught my heart to fear,
And grace my fears reliev’d;
How precious did that grace appear,
The hour I first believ’d!

Thro’ many dangers, toils and snares,
I have already come;
’Tis grace has brought me safe thus far,
And grace will lead me home.

The Lord has promis’d good to me,
His word my hope secures;
He will my shield and portion be,
As long as life endures.

Yes, when this flesh and heart shall fail,
And mortal life shall cease;
I shall possess, within the veil,
A life of joy and peace.

The earth shall soon dissolve like snow,
The sun forbear to shine;
But God, who call’d me here below,
Will be forever mine.