Yesterday I went for a day out with my friend to Highgate cemetery. Yes I know that is strange. We went to the East Cemetery which has that abhorrent man Karl Marx in it, and much loved Douglas Adams, though we couldn’t find the latter. The West cemetery with LOTS of cool stuff is only accessible via tour and £5. I thought it was bad enough we had to pay £3 for the East side. We argued the toss about why we had to pay to get into a grave yard. “What if we have relatives here?” We didn’t get in but confused the woman enough for her to only charge us £1.50 each. I suppose a fair compromise.
Highgate gate cemetery is, afterall, on all of the “London for free” websites.
Honestly, it was A LOT of fun and great for photos, HOWEVER.
“<insert name> went to sleep <insert date>”
“<insert name> went home <insert date>”
Seriously.
No they didn’t.
They died. D I E D.
Dead, popped their cloggs, got snuffed out, punched out, finshed their innings, clocked off, passed away. Whatever you want to call it, but they did NOT GO TO SLEEP.
But that aside, here is a selection of my favourite finds of the day:
FAIL:
The stereotypes of life followed them into death:
Anatomical:
It begs the question, HOW CAN I become the chief executive of a colony. IDOL.
Pint of Bitter please Love:
What a corker:
Descriptive:
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