I've just been reminded of a conversation I had with Paul while we were out. He'd seen a stainless steel cross with a tribal design on it and asked me if I liked it. I said it was OK as far as crosses go, I just don't do crosses and said that I was surprised that he did. He said that, when his time comes, he wants a fighting chance of going somewhere warm and fluffy rather than fire and brimstone. That made me laugh cos I don't believe that you actually go anywhere. Once you die, that's it, game over. That, of course, is when things started getting silly. He asked me what my idea of the perfect place to go when I die was. I said a huge field full of Kizzie puppies. He laughed and said that it would get a bit messy and I told him not to be so bloody stupid, they don't need to eat, therefore they don't need to poo. He thought about it for a while and then agreed with me!