MISERABLE FLOWERS

I have just come back from the cemetary. I have never seen so many miserable people. It was like being at a West Ham match. There were women crying, there were men crying, there were men trying stop themselves from crying, and children who didnt want to be there. Even though the sun was shining and even though everyone here was obviously not at work today, the mood was decidedly downbeat. And to make matters worse, the choice of flowers was abysmal. The flower seller spent more money on her fake tan than she did on the flowers she was trying to off load. I dont normally buy flowers, ( cos the petrol station near me stopped selling them). But surely, if you are going to charge a bunch of grieving misery guts £11 for a handful of flowers, shouldnt they have more life in them then the people in the boxes we have come to visit?. She tried to say she was too busy to go to her usual supplier, luckily, there was some flowers lying on the ground not far away so I used those, the card attached was no good to me so I threw it away. And what about the snack wagon?, he didnt sell alcohol and the sandwiches are ex British Rail ones, the were so stiff I giving them to my grandkids to use as frisbees. Anyway, my duty has been done,I managed to get my car out the of the car park without running over anyone and its back to my brothers to drink his beer for a change.