Funk to Funky

This week we took an important trip to scatter my mum's ashes.

It was a very emotional day and I'm not about to reveal here where I did this act as it is apparently illegal to “litter” in such a way. I doubt I would face prosecution for this as judging by the number of bags of rubbish, old mattresses and abandoned fridges that are strewn along almost every highway in this country there are millions of litter louts currently at large.

On our way to the place there was a light moment as David Bowie's Ashes to Ashes came on the radio (yes really) and it provided material for future anecdotes such as this one.

I avoided the usual ash-scattering faux pas of throwing them into the wind only to get a faceful of the deceased and instead poured them carefully on to the ground before a cairn of rocks was carefully placed atop them.

I said a few words, weird as it is talking to a pile of dust that can't hear you and there were a few minutes of contemplation looking out over a body of water which I shall not name.

The tears were wiped away as we got back in the car and headed off.

It was a very upsetting experience, but it was about to be made even more upsetting thanks to a colossal bastard's actions.

Who was this person and what did they do?

Well, I'll tell you, but it's going to make you angry.

The radio was switched on and who should be blasted out of the speakers like an eggy, aural fart, but King of the Ubercunts, Ed “Fucking” Sheeran.

That's right, on the day we finally said goodbye to my mother, I was forced to endure 10 seconds of racial profiling thanks to the Fraggle Rock Mick Hucknall's Galway Girl. It was the audio equivalent of waterboarding and possibly filled me with so much anger that I maybe briefly possessed superhuman strength and could have torn the car radio out of the dashboard and thrown it several hundred yards into the valley below. Perhaps. I don't know, I just opted to switch it off instead.

The day would only have become worse if we'd turned up at the bed and breakfast to find it was run by Phil Collins.

Thankfully he was at some kind of fax machine symposium that day so we missed him.