Ozymandias

A few minutes walk from my house is a brilliant cemetery.
It’s like Highgate, but way less crowded.
There are Knights of the Realm, a huge number of VC winners, mistresses of Dickens, a survivor from the Titanic; the great and the good!
It’s an interesting bone yard!
When I was a lot younger, a friend and I used to steal the lead from the headstones.
Prising out the lead letters that made up the names, dates etc.
We’d melt it them down and make fishing weights!

During a census search I found an unusual name, linked to me, buried there.
So I went for a mooch this afternoon.
As I may have mentioned before, I have an ability to attract nutters while I am out of the house.
Today was no different.
An oddly attired man with a yapper dog was today’s gift.

I was in THE remotest area of the yard; this is where they tend to put the Catholics and ‘Non-Conformists”.
Basically, wherever I was, he was.
Eventually, he aggressively informed me I was stood on a grave, went on about disrespect for a bit until I stopped him with a,
“Shhhhhh…. Listen…. Hear anyone complaining?”
He looked confused.
So off I went,
“In fact I’m more offended by you!!… I have family planted in here; can you guarantee that your RAT hasn’t shit on them?? Ever? Can you?
No? Really?
Now fuck off before you start to really wind me up!”
His dog seemed to have more about him than he did and dragged the loon away from me.

I couldn’t find the plot I was looking for and searching headstones was difficult and in some cases impossible.
Too many of the graves had the lead script removed by some gobshite, thieving bastard!

Today, the Tories have been on the knock.

Drumming up business for the local elections.
They hit Sassy first and I got a warning text.
Followed by, and I quote,

“We need to set up a local alert system for when these mordant cunts are in the street! A system of cans in the back garden or summat!”

I was ready for them!
The bell rang and I answered it with a huge joint and my surliest look.
One of the ‘mordant cunts’ was only someone I worked with at Mayhem.
I ignored this, and toking deep asked what “They” were going to do for me.
The Candidate started on about local shit, so I stopped him.
“No, you misunderstand. What are you going to do for ME?”
He started about the local area again.
I looked at the ex colleague and asked if the Candidate was retarded.
He walked away from my house shaking his head and smiling.
‘How do you mean?’ he asked
“Simply put. Convince this middle aged, property owning, dope smoking, Friend of Dorothy, that I should vote for you.”
He looked over his shoulder, pretending to hear a call from down the road, and fucked off.
I always spoil my ballot anyway. Especially in the local elections.
One down. Two to go!

The Mayhem girls were round these evening!
A superb night.
I’ll probably remember more later.

Check out this! It was on the back of the headstone for a Harriet Jackman!

A loving or guilty husband?