Well, I've only a week left at the department of death registrations so I thought I'd better lay out some of the stuff I'd noticed in my time there. Please be warned that my sense of humour has become dangerously deranged due to my work environment. Walk away now. You'd be better off.
I'll start you off slow: I had a guy who's occupation was "Circus Side-Show Operator", nearly as cool as the powder-monkey guy. Though the most inexplicable occupation recently was "Crane Chaser". What the..!? I've heard of ambulance chasers but that's a new one on me...
The number of funny names... Sometimes it's the only thing that keeps me sane (although I'm sure some of you would argue it's been a loooong while since I was sane).
Like the town called Gympie. Well, it is in deepest inbred, roo-shooting, Abo-lynching, croc-baiting, cane toad-licking Queensland - so I guess the name is probably descriptive of some of the inhabitants.
More perplexing was the woman with the middle name "Pitchfork". I feel there is a story behind that name that we'll never know.
The man with the surname "Miraballes" had me chuckling. "Ouch" was another family name that probably got their kids beaten up on a daily basis at school. And "Boner Street" got a round of Beavis & Butthead-esque laughter.
Then there was Doctor Kok... *snigger*
Better still was the guy whose surname was Dick, first name William, and actually went by the nickname of "Big Willy". I kid you not. Oh how we howled (yes we're a callous bunch of assholes).
The one that really had the whole office in stitches and went into the BDM blooper file was the fax from Sacred Funerals. Obviously from someone new there. They'd made an unfortunate slip with the name and all the headings blared "Scared Funerals".
That had us going for ages.
We spent quite a while trying to figure out what happens at a scared funeral. Do they play spooky music all the time? Dress as members of the Addams family? Rig the coffin so the corpse springs out and onto the pall-bearers? Or just a creepy scratching and moaning from the inside of the coffin as it's lowered into the ground...
You could have a lot of fun working for a company like that.
Is it just me or is the Howlong Aged Care Facility just begging for a who's on first?-style re-working?
"Where am I?"
"Howlong"
"No, where"
"Not nowhere, Howlong!"
"I don't know how long, where am I?!"
etc...
Ok, maybe it's just me.
But there's the unfortunate guy who's last name was Bogus. I guess there's a whole Bogus family out there since he had kids too. It just made me laugh trying to picture the scene at the funeral parlour: "Are you here for the Bogus funeral?" and the like.
Then there's Stan Crapp Funerals.
Best. Name. Ever.
If I die in Australia I want a Crapp funeral.
And the best one from the other day was a series of unfortunate names that really did me in. First of all the dead guy's name was Norman Hercules Dick (yes, there are a lot of Dicks out there). That one got a round of applause.
But even worse, his certifying doctor was Dr Raper.
Ye gods.
Imagine his waiting room:
"Doctor Raper will see you now"
"...um, I'd rather not!"
Final nail in the coffin (hyuck hyuck) was the misspelling on the EDI identifying his remains as being disposed of at a Creamatorium. Extra thick and creamy. Urgh...
Oh god, I was a sick and twisted bastard before working here but I'm not going to be fit for human company afterwards.
But, like I've said, you've gotta make your own fun in this job. If you stay too long there I think something very bad happens to your mind.
Case in point the other week a workmate just started clucking like a chicken for no apparent reason. Quite loudly. Weird, yes, but the most disturbing thing was the fact that nobody else noticed! That was creepy...
An update on my working conditions for those that give a monkey's: sadly my workmate who had a seizure did make a miraculous recovery so I'm back to my nomadic existence. Next time I'm doubling the dosage...
Right, that's your lot. Begone.
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