One of my least favorite holidays has to be Memorial Day. It might be a tie with President's day (because I dislike the fact that they took Washington and Lincoln's birthday and mooshed them together simply because they were both born close to the same day. Why couldn't punk ass Lincoln have been born in July?) Anyhow, when I was a kid, on Memorial Day our activities consisted of:
1.) Picking up all old alive people in car
2.) Going to 2 graveyards featuring dead relatives
3.) Not being able to find dead relatives
4.) "Accidentally" stepping on headstones
5.) Laughing at dead people with funny names (Lowell Butts, Ebenezer Titcock)
6.) Trying to get in the locked crypt that had Father Louis Hennipen in it
7.) Sitting around flicking sticks
8.) Contemplate stealing flowers from other gravestones, just for the sake of being mean
Since I have reached the age of reason, I have cut these activities from my schedule. In case you haven't noticed, graveyards are creepy. Even in the day. It's weird to think that you're walking around someplace with all these dead bodies underneath you, and although this is unlikely, the place that you're most likely to get grabbed by a hand that pops up from the ground is a graveyard. No thanks! If I know you, and you die, I am never going to come and stand above your corpse. I don't believe you would like that.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment