1:03 a.m., 17.12.03
An Open Letter To Kevin "Bloody" Wilson

Dear Kev,

I have a story to tell you, of how you touched the lives of my family and I one tragic day.

My grandad died last Christmas. I'm not blaming you for that, mind you.

We had a great big wonderful funeral for him, and there were loads of people bawling their eyes out around the church afterwards. My brothers and I were barely holding back the tears when we got into his beloved green Valiant to follow the hearse down to the burial site.

God he loved that car. We had all the windows open, and my dad was struggling to keep himself from crying, so he suggested we turn on the radio to take our minds off the old bugger.

He hit the on switch on the old tape player. Well, Poppy was a deaf old bastard, so he had the thing up full bore, and what came blasting out of the speakers for all the mourners to hear? You guessed it... The last tape he ever played in the car... His favourite tape. Kevin Bloody Wilson.

"DO YA FUCK ON FIRST DATES? DOES YER DAD OWN A BREWERY? CAN I FEEL YER TITS - OR WOULD YOU SHOW 'EM TO ME?"

Everybody erupted in a chorus of crying, wailing and laughter. Mum was yelling "turn it off! turn it off!" but my Nan was yelling, "No, It's what he would have wanted!" and the lot of us were sobbing uncontrollably as we sang along, a beautiful tribute to a wonderful man - in a very special "Kev" kind of way.

So thanks Kev, for helping a family to grieve.

:)

Ya dirty cunt.

Loz

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