At FK's funeral yesterday, we entered the crematorium to the strains of Hot on the heels of love by Throbbing Gristle. Quite appropriate.
There was a power cut shortly before the service finished, which meant we didn't get the closing music. I still haven't found out what it was going to be, and the mood was lifted slightly on the way to the pub by much hillarious speculation as to what would have sent him on his way. Anyone who knew FK would go for the obvious - My Cock's On Fire by Whitehouse. It's what he would have wanted.
Better get yours in writing now, otherwise you could be seen off by McFly or Tiffany.
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