My dearest esteemed husband intends to have: 'Here he lies, the dear departed: stood too near the fire and farted." to which I can only add my next-door tombstone with a big arrow pointing at his and saying, 'I'm with stupid.' As an aside, making up your own rhyming epitaph is a blasting game to play in the company of others when all are exceedingly drunk, except it gets a bit rude. Or that might just be me ...