I love this commercial about having the funeral planners come to peoples’ homes. I don’t think they’ve fully appreciated that grief is an ugly, underwear-wielding rage beast that really does need to put it’s clothes on to arrange a memorial. I laugh in gleeful anticipation of one of these suited workers showing up when I grieve. His name is Curtain. Wait, no, Curt. I’ll have been drinking.
Ding-dong. “Hello, we’re from Holmes Funeral…dear Lord! What is that smell?” Curt pokes the blanket heap with a pen.
“Ugh. I’m going to be sick.”
“Pass the bucket! […] Well! Come on Curtain. Buck up – hand me a brochure.”