8th January 2007Whenever someone loses their life in tragic circumstances they are always described thus: â€œOh he was a smashing bloke. Really genuine. And so generous. He would do anything for anybody.â€™
Or â€˜She was a wonderful woman. A Saint. Everybody liked her. I never heard anybody say a bad thing against her.
Or â€˜She was a lovely girl. So bubbly. Always had a smile on her face and a kind word.â€™Â
No one is ever a shithouse. No one ever says; â€˜He was a right arsehole. A real tight-fisted vindictive twat who wouldnâ€™t piss on you if you were on fire or give you the dirt from under his fingernails.â€™
This maxim isnâ€™t confined to victims of murderers or those unfortunates who have been visited by incurable diseases. It seems to apply to anyone who has died. I have been to quite a few funerals over the years and I have yet to hear a eulogy in which the speaker describes the deceased in anything but the most glowing terms. And most certainly not as a shithouse.
The conclusion to be drawn from this state of affairs is that only the good die, shithouses never. So, in an effort to live as long as possible, I am going to become a shithouse. Starting today.
Ignore this if you have already read it. My books Dear Air 2000 and Football Crazy are now in print. They are priced at Â£8.99 each and are available from Amazon, but readers of my blog can buy them direct from me for Â£7.50 including p & p. Just send me a cheque and I will send the book/books by return.
You can write to me at â€“
Terry Ravenscroft, 19 Ventura Court, Ollersett Avenue, New Mills, High Peak, SK22 4LL