The order of service for Sir Clement Freud's funeral yesterday was printed to show his date of birth, a photogragh of him in his pomp and then a "Best Before" date, the 15th inst, being the day he passed away at his desk while writing his column for the Racing Post.
The Guardian this morning reveals that the previous day's winners from Epsom were still in his pocket and that he was carried out of St Bride's to the strains of the Minute Waltz. Nice pictures too, although the bloody little tossbag Bono was there in his odious wraparound shades. He would attend the opening of an envelope. Hateful, clapped out, hackneyed ligger. Mr Brown tried to look sincere when clasping Lady Freud's hand, but just looked menacing.
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