From what I recall about Easter, Jesus died and is the reason we are always VERY careful when using the nailgun, and then we might be able to go to Heaven unless we neglected to go to confession with a priest that may or may not be a pedophile, and then a secret rabbit hides eggs layed by chickens, and the day cumulates in See's candy and a canned ham.
Oh, and bonnets. To do Easter right, someone is supposed to be wearing the bonnet. We have one somewhere around here, but we call it scurvy monkey bonnet and it's really just a dirty chunk of polar fleece.
And now I'm already a liar, we didn't even exactly have a picnic. I better not be going to Hell. We just walked down to the beach like we would on any old day. It WAS Easter though, and it was low tide. And we did stay down there long enough that the other dogs all left, and we watched the sky go from cloudy to sun to here comes the storm on our own private beach. So, I think this is sort of like having a picnic. If it isn't, then for now on, it is.
This winter, the beach closest to my house, affectionately known as Shit Beach, for it's rancid sewage smell of rotting seaweed all summer long, has been tiny to nonexistent, with winter tides and the sand being washed south to the new sand bar at Cowell's. Some days I can boost the dogs and boost myself up the old sea wall to find a patch of running sand, but that's the closest thing to actual beach it's been for a while. The first low tides of spring have brought some sand back, albeit about 10 feet lower than it used to be.
Later on Easter morning, the girl behind the register at Trader Joe's had skeleton tattoos on her neck. I was buying some pancake syrup. Her eyeliner was as thick as my thumb, and I right away hoped she would still be happy about the big skulls and crossbones under her ear when she was 40. I wonder if she was looking at me thinking, I wonder if I'll ever turn into THAT, when I'm 40. She smiled at me when I left and said, "Have a good night, dude."
4 comments:
I am not sure what the bible says about killing tomatoes, I do know that cribs and mangers are a whole other holiday though.
I am also not sure what it says about eating a whole bag of sale price Reese's peanut butter cup eggs purchased in lieu of giant chocolate See's candy easter eggs.
These religious holidays, so confusing.
For Team Small Dog, thank you Jesus!
Thank you Jim, for thanking Jesus for Team Small Dog! We may have forgotten to thank him. Perhaps another thing that can get one sent to Hell!
hehe very nice bonnets! The quip about the priests... priceless.. LOL
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