3011. A sad farewell

Good afternoon. We are here to farewell Graeme Willoughby who passed away in his sleep last Thursday evening.

In the interests of public safety if an emergency arises please use the doors at the back, and assemble on the grass next to the children’s cycling park. If there is an earthquake, please get under the pews until the shaking stops, then make your way to the grass next to the children’s cycling park.

The toilets are situated in the adjoining hall. Make your way through the back doors and turn right across the path and there you will see the door to the adjoining hall. The toilets are well sign posted. Please note that this venue is right next to a busy highway, so parents and guardians keep a close eye on children playing when we leave this hall.

We would appreciate it if all cell phones could be turned off.

That is all we have time for I’m afraid. The crematorium likes to keep to a strict schedule. Would the pall-bearers please come forward.

2960. The punishment fits the crime

Ms Flounce: Now children today is a special day for the class because it’s Tommy’s sixth birthday. I want you all to sit in a circle on the floor and hold hands. Together we are going to recite the nursery rhyme we leant off by heart yesterday.

There was an old woman who lived in a shoe.
She had so many children, she didn’t know what to do.
She gave them some broth without any bread;
Then whipped them all soundly and sent them to bed.

You will notice, children, that her partner should have worn a condom as we have talked about and drawn pictures for the fridge magnet all last week. But notice too that she whipped the little children. This should no longer happen. We are more enlightened. Yes, Tommy, you have a question?

Tommy: Yes Miss. If the old woman gave her children broth without any bread, what about a balanced diet that included bioactives like quercetin, resveratrol, catechins, anthocyanins, lutein, lycopene and beta-carotene?

Ms Flounce: Well who’s a clever little know-all? I don’t listen easily to a smarty-pants. You speak a load of tripe. Do you know what this is? It’s my partner’s leather belt. Stand up and bend over.

2847. Not a fruitless way of life

What an inspiration Cassandra has been. To us all. To one and all. She had taken life seriously. Not an unhealthy sliver of animal fat touches her body. Not an egg or a drop of milk. An absolute inspiration as to how to share the planet – our common home. How many people has she affected through the wonders of social media?

The secret lies in fruit. The health benefits of a total fruit diet. We should all heed her example.

She bore her malnutrition with heroic fortitude. Rest in peace, dear Cassandra.

2765. Wonderful news!

Wonderful news! After study grants of tens of thousands of dollars, and years of intensive research, Doctor Raewyn Futter has published her thesis. It is going to change the way the world lives.

She discovered that the leading cause of chronic heart disease is food. Doctor Futter was able to test her research on local orphans. Off and on over lengthy periods the orphanage was supplied with no food. Not a single orphan died of heart disease.

It is not every day that one is witness to revolutionary science. Congresswoman Constantia Bregman-Wilson has introduced legislation into parliament to ban the sale of all food from supermarkets. In anticipation a number of supermarket chains have already removed food from their shelves. The CEO of Sticky Grub, Barney Gribbon, said it is a triple whammy: “Not only are we helping to rid the world of racism and chronic heart disease, but we are doing away with environmentally harmful packaging.” In fact, he said, some people on the island of Majorca where he lives, were thinking of introducing similar legislation.

Mrs. Elaine Sorenson of Leafy Path in West Thrushmeadows, has been held up as a model. “An example to us all,” said the Funeral Director. “Today we compost one who followed the science.”

2334. Healthy eating

Anne and Peter had long retired. Occasionally their peace would be shattered by noisy and loveable grandchildren, but generally they lived a quiet, yet active, existence.

“We should really cut down a bit on our meat intake,” suggested Peter one day.

“Meat is certainly one of the more expensive foods. It would save a bit, and besides, less meat is apparently a more healthy option,” said Anne.

“Less meat it is!”

Anne found a recipe for beans and other vegetables that when cooked and minced up looked exactly like ground meat. Because it was the first time she had used the recipe it took a little longer than it normally would. She had followed the recipe meticulously. It smelt lovely. In fact, it actually smelt a little like ground beef. She arranged helpings on plates with mashed potato, and a cucumber and shallot salad.

“Come and get your healthy meal!” called Anne to Peter. He was reading the paper in the next room, ensconced in an armchair. “Everything’s ready!”

Peter continued to sit. He was dead.

1866. The final meal

Troy Meadowcroft had waited on death row for what seemed like an eternity. He was due to be put down (in a merciful and humane way) any day now. The newspapers were full of it. The guests to witness his electrocution had been invited and were currently selecting what to wear before heading in that direction, looking at last to be able to avenge their loved ones murder.

One of the more interesting features reported on was the prisoner’s final meal. One could order (within reason) what one wished. Troy had never liked complicated food. He requested simply pork sausages and French fries with splashes of malt vinegar and salt.

Letter One: I was amazed at the reported menu of Troy Meadowcroft prior to his execution. You would think humanity would have dragged itself out of the swamp by now. Pork sausages and French fries! How irresponsible is that for the prison to allow (in fact espouse) such unhealthy food? Are there no principles left when the prison authorities care not a hoot about prisoners’ health? And all that salt! Goodness me!

Letter Two: My religion forbids the imbibing of hog meat. I was horrified at the casual attitude taken by giving the prisoner pork sausages, as if such things didn’t matter. It was nothing short of scandalous. It was an affront to all sincere believers. And to feed a prisoner pig meat when so close to death is an instant invitation to the fires of Hell. I was deeply offended.

Letter Three: I couldn’t help but think that the man called Troy Meadowcroft who was put down recently had a touch of class. No one these days thinks of putting malt vinegar on their pork sausages. It is delicious, and something we used to do frequently when we were younger. Three cheers to the prisoner, and I would wish him a long and fruitful existence of enjoying life’s simple things if that was still possible.

Letter Four: Quite frankly I hope the prisoner choked on his pork sausage. The combination of foods looked disgusting – especially the salt and malt vinegar. I’m normally against the death penalty but in this case I’ll make an exception. The world is certainly better off without him and probably safer. People these days, especially those with money, have no sense of taste. Like my auntie.

Letter Five: What a waste of good food. People don’t seem to realize that people are starving and all we hear about is how a prisoner about to expire anyway is fed pork sausages and French fries. If only they had electrocuted the man a few minutes earlier, and then all that lovely food could have been shared by people in need. Waste not, want not.

Letter Six: Electrocution and lethal injection for condemned prisoners is nothing short of the authorities taking the easy way out. In the old days when we lined people up against a wall to get shot I would imagine you could see the terror in their eyes. They were paying properly for their crime. Regarding the final meal; wouldn’t it have been funny if instead of pork sausages they had stuffed cotton wool inside the sausage skins? Then the man would start to hoe into his final meal and it would all be fake. And use garden fertilizer instead of salt. And French fries made out of chicken poo or something hilarious like that. Stuff like that. You know.

Editor: This correspondence is now closed.

1843. Hearty food

Dean’s doctor told him to start eating healthy. He searched online for healthy foods. There were links to different foods that said “Eat these for a healthy heart”. Dean clicked on them, link after link. It took a good half an hour to download all the pages each with a different healthy food.

The following, in this order, were good for the heart:

Oranges, kale, garlic, red wine, chocolate, sardines, lentils, almonds, pomegranates, blueberries, beets, salmon, turmeric, chia seeds, apples, avocados, eggplant, broccoli, carrots, chicken, chickpeas, coffee, cranberries, figs, flax seeds, red hot chilli peppers, ginger, grapefruit, green tea, kidney beans, kiwi fruit, mackerel, cashew nuts, oatmeal, pears…

Dean tried them all, one after the other, and it made no difference. He was still hungry. Health food doesn’t fill you up.

He finished off with a big slice of cream sponge cake and at last was satisfied.

1481. Late Uncle Vegetarian Dumpling

Brandon Branson was living proof that eating healthily wasn’t necessarily the healthy thing to do. In fact he wasn’t living proof at all. He was dead as a doornail.

Brandon had eaten healthy food since his teenage years. He’d meticulously read the list of ingredients on the back of every food package. He’d carefully counted the calorie intake daily. And then WHAM BANG! He dropped dead instantaneously at the kitchen bench while dicing a raw carrot.

This is proof, declared his niece Sonja who owned a confectionary operative, that healthy eating is a marketing ploy by the companies that monopolize the food industry. You can see why us nieces and nephews referred to him as Uncle Vegetarian Dumpling.

It goes to show, said Raewyn the President of the Big-boned Ladies Collective, that being skinny has few advantages. Brandon may have eaten healthy food but without a doubt he was never happy.

His death pulls the mat out from under the burnt-out trendy lefties who think we should all live miserable lives, said Norm Gladworthy the founder of the Fat Earth Society. I’m rather glad he died. It shows the falsehood perpetuated by head-in-the-sand trendy trendies and all those who belong to the Green Party. He exercised every day as well I’m told, and look at him now. There’s not a movement in his cold corpse. A fat lot of use it was living all that apparent fine fettle fiasco.

Dorothy McKenzie was a lone voice supporting Brandon Branson’s healthy lifestyle. He may be dead, she said, but surely he led a happy and productive life throughout his ninety-seven years.

1425. Research

Mrs Maisie Gilliver was a wonder. She was addicted to genealogy; not just hers, but everyone else’s as well. She had discovered that the more information she uploaded onto genealogical sites, the more free research time was allotted to her. She searched the internet and copied other’s family trees at will and then placed the information on other genealogical sites.

Mrs Maisie Gilliver was marvellously flexible, for example, Great Aunt Sylvia kept on having babies for a good decade after her death; three siblings were born within four months of one another; Uncle Harold played the church organ every Sunday for eleven years without missing a Sunday and in between Sundays he traversed the world in his sailing ship.

Mrs Maisie Gilliver thought she was being helpful. In fact, she completely stuffed up the chances of other researches finding useful and accurate information on the internet. It had been junked out.

Mrs Maisie Gilliver’s next project is to upload recipes…

And hints to stay healthy…

And history…

And science…

And…

1344. The Grim Reaper

Ramona and Wynton Clifford had a rather nice house with a rather long driveway. Ramona’s sister and husband, Fiona and Michael Croft, were staying for a few days. One early evening, suddenly, Ramona called out. “Quick! Everyone! Look out the window!” They gathered around Ramona.

Walking up the driveway towards the house was the Grim Reaper; complete with a skull face and scythe.

“It doesn’t look like a fancy dress,” said Fiona.

“It’s not,” said Wynton.

“It’s the real thing,” said Michael.

“Who’s it coming to get?” said Ramona. “Which one of us four?”

All four were healthy and fit; not a doctor’s prescribed pill needed be taken between them.

The Grim Reaper came closer up the driveway.

“I’m feeling fine,” said Michael.

“Me too,” said Wynton.

“It’s clear he’s coming to get one of us,” said Ramona.

The Grim Reaper neared the front entrance, pausing briefly to peer through the window.

“Oh God!” shrieked Fiona. “Who? Who?”

There was a knock at the door.