Memories of Easter

I remember when my sister and I were kids and the family wasn't so fragmented, as it is now, and we would get baskets upon basket of Easter Candy. I recall cleaning up one Easter, getting about 12 baskets of nothin' but candy. This is when there were a lot more family members still alive to give us this much candy and everyone was still getting along with each other. Those memories of real family togetherness seem so distant now. It makes me sad.

After getting together at church, sitting together during mass in the pews, we would all go to grandma's house and eat a big Easter dinner and laugh and talk and share stories from the past. All of us would have so much fun, coloring the Easter eggs, too. Mom and the rest of us kids would have the greatest time, coming up with the cleverest designs.

What a joyful time it was.

But... getting back to the candy...

Any candy made of chocolate, white, milk or dark was yummy to me. Couldn't stand those friggin' marshmallow peeps, though. They were like biting into air. I preferred those little chocolate egg candies and bunny rabbits. Damn, I would go to town on those. Sometimes, I believe it's a real wonder that I didn't develop diabetes at an earlier age instead of my mid-thirties.

Now, the hollowed out chocolate rabbits were easy eatin'. But those big 2 or 3 pound solid chocolate bunnies might has well have been made out of granite. I would spend the next four or five days gnawing on all of them sonsofbitches. The ears, of course, are always easy, but the rest, not so much. I think I lost a fucking tooth one year, trying to consume one of these motherfuckers. By the time I was done using my teeth, scraping chocolate shavings off of those chocolate monstrosities, my gums would be bleeding and my face would look like I had dipped my head into a mountain of turds.

There would be times I would use a friggin hammer to bust the concrete-like bunnies apart into bite size chunks. Most of the time, though, my impatience to devour the chocolate would cause me to bust my thumbnails apart with the hammer while holding the bunny on the table. My insatiable appetite for chocolate was that severe.

While deep in my chocolate frenzied ecstasy, growling like a insane wildebeest, teeth gnashing on my chocolate, my younger sister would try to sneak a little of my candy away. Big mistake. I would snarl, malevolently and push little sis away from my big brown bounty as if the 12 baskets of candy were the last baskets of candy on Earth.

When I would say to her, "Eat your own candy," there would be huge globs and strands of chocolaty goo hanging from my upper lip and over my lower jaw and dripping down my chest. I likely appeared as some hideous little monster. But I didn't care. I was in the throes of utter chocolate delight. Day and night, I would gobble on the chocolate. I would be chowing on the chocolate either in bed or outside on the swing set or in the car or in our trees. Wherever- it didn't matter. Finally, after four or five days, I finished it all off.

Sure, I'd need some dental work done by the time I had completed the task, but at least I felt satisfied.

Nowadays, with mom gone from our lives and our family being as fragmented as it is, we (our little group of seven) are lucky to even celebrate Easter. Later today, sometime, we'll go to my sister's place and eat a meal, hide some Easter eggs for my little nieces to find and share stories of the good ol' days, hopefully- maybe even share some nice stories of the present. Even more hopefully, Dad won't be in one of his verbally abusive and extremely negative moods but you never know these days.

Really, the most enjoyment I get out of Easter, anymore, is watching and hearing the laughs and giggles from my nieces as they try to find the Easter eggs. It gives me some happiness to try to help hide the eggs in some tricky locations just to see if they'll be able to discover them before nightfall. Heh heh. And it's a big, fun competition between the two, usually and it's really quite humorous, observing them as they hunt in the bushes, behind the trees and other places. Everything else, at least to me, is just a sad reminder of how good things used to be.

Here's hoping everyone truly has a HAPPY EASTER today. Always remember the good times and always try to create or inspire the good times. You never know how long they're going to last. Take care!

EZ Cracker Egg Cracker

EZ Cracker Egg Cracker is a kitchen gadget that's being hawked on TV as something that will make your egg cracking experience easier. No mess is guaranteed by the company that manufactures this item. It's cost is about twenty US dollars -not counting shipping and handling if you order it instead of buying this miracle worker, outright, at a store.

Hey folks, if you don't have the intelligence or dexterity to crack open a freaking egg, well then, I'm afraid it's time for you to pack it in. Your services are no longer required on this planet.

Goodbye and go away, please!

The gene pool has to be cleaned of morons every once in awhile to weed out the weaker links.

If someone is too lazy to crack open a goddamn egg, then I advise that person to walk (Sorry... This means they may have to exert themselves) into a den of hungry lions or tigers. At least then, they will provide sustenance for a group of wild animals that are heading for extinction. At least they will be contributing toward the good of something. I'm sure the big cats will have the determination to get up off their asses to tear huge chunks of fat from an insufferable imbecile's nearly stagnate body and completely devour them -no problem.

If you are disabled to the point of not being able to crack open an egg by hand, then I understand. This might come in handy for you. I don't know. That would depend on how long this kitchen gadget lasts.

The EZ Cracker Egg Cracker, like so many other cheaply made inventions is ridiculous. And it is indicative of how lazy and/or weak-minded people have become, in general. If you or someone you know has bought one of these plastic contraptions, it's almost a certainty it will, in the near future, be collecting dust while sitting in a corner on your kitchen counter (if it hasn't already).

Perceptions

The other night, I went to my sister and her family's place. They had just buried their cat, Bully. Bully was a true hunting cat. He would catch pretty much anything on four legs. Mice. Moles. Possums. Raccoons. You name it. He even chased a friend of mine out of the house one time. That was the one time when he went after a two-legged creature.


Bully was a lovable cat, too. Everyone who knew him will miss him. He had more character and bravery than most people do.


Anyway, my sister decided to put him to sleep. He was in too much pain from all the injuries he had endured (such as losing his tail, teeth, chunks of his ears, claws and so on) over his many years. After burying him in their "pet cemetery", my dad, my friend, Jeep and I were looking at the moon and discussing the images we saw in the moon. Most people in the world claim to see either a man's face, a lady or a rabbit.




If you've seen anything besides these "classic 3", let me know.

Now here is a partial picture of a wooden door.

Now, I see the side of an orc's head. You know- orc- as in an orc from the "Lord of The Rings" movies, Dungeons & Dragons or the Warcraft games. See the big eye? The teeth? The upturned nose? The pointed ear? If you see something else, let me know.

Maybe you need a drink first.

Some people don't see images in anything- like clouds, for instance. They lack the imagination. Perhaps the logical part of their minds won't allow for it.

Many people only see around them what they want to see. Maybe they see only what fits into their agenda. I have no idea.

An example of this would be how people see you and how you see yourself. Which do you think is more important?

After checking out the moon and talking for awhile, everyone went inside the house and had some of my sister's cranberry-almond cheesecake.

I didn't think I would like it, at first, because I hate cranberries. But then, I took a bite and it was so good, I had another piece. Whoever invented this recipe, originally, created something truly pleasing for the masses.

Unlike this invention.

I guess this invention is to be employed to keep you standing upright, in case you are falling asleep and standing in a dangerous environment, such as a building construction site. This woman's hard hat would suggest this. But the rest of her suit doesn't really fit what she's modeling for. She appears to be wearing office apparel. As for myself, if I was at a busy construction site, I don't believe I could nod off with all the loud machinery and the possible heavy building parts falling all around me.

But someone thought this was a good enough idea to try to market it. But how much ingenuity does it take to attach a toilet plunger to a helmet?

PERCEPTION IS EVERYTHING when it comes to the minds of the human race. It effects your opinion and the decisions you make.

Take this optical illusion, as another example. The afterimages of the complementary colors create movement in your peripheral vision as your eyes shift across the image.

I see those big wheels uh turnin'-turnin'-turnin'. I think that's from a Johnny Cash song. Now that was a guy with exceptional perception. He saw the truth of life, wrote about it and sung it for the masses. And it was pleasing.

Crazy Bear and Volcano Butt

At least I'm over the sinus infection and bronchitis. My arms and elbows are still giving me trouble, however. I've been to 2 different doctors who say I've got tennis elbow. I've been taking this, supposedly strong, anti-inflammatory medication for it, since Wednesday but so far, it has been of minimal help with the pain. It doesn't help that I'm in a distribution center where I do a lot of repetitious work.

But, as I've mentioned, I'm not sick anymore. So that's something.

I frequently get sick. It usually takes a strong anti-biotic to knock the shit out of my system. One of the worst times I've ever been sick was when I went camping with a bunch of friends. This occurred about 15 years ago but I remember it with much fondness. I call this unfortunate, true story....

CRAZY BEAR AND VOLCANO BUTT

One night, as I'm walking around with my friends, sister and brother-in-law at a huge flea market out in the middle of nowhere, it is mutually decided that we walk back to our campground, a quarter of a mile away, to do a bit of drinking. It is kind of chilly. About forty degrees. At the time, I was a little sick but not feeling that bad. A sore throat. Some snot in my nose. No big deal. So I believed. I found out my decision to drink would be a poor one, though.

So we get to our large green tent in the primitive area. The "primitive area" means there are no bathrooms or water fountains within a quarter of a mile of the entire site. There's about ten of us. And we're all drinking, having a righteous good time in the middle of no-man's-land. I think I had a couple swigs of peppermint schnapps, along with my one beer. Yum. Several hours later, we turn in and pass out on the canvas tent floor. It's incredibly cramp in the tent, with no space between bodies. When someone belched or farted, you were going to smell it. No way to escape it.

Sure enough, in the middle of the night, I feel the bile rising up in my throat. As I'm struggling to crawl over bodies in complete darkness, pee dribbles down my leg. I panic. Now I'm rushing to get the hell out of the tent, not caring who's head I crush with a kneecap. I barely am able to unzip the tent door and jump out when every human waste liquid known to man gushes forth from every orifice, simultaneously. Fountains of vomit leap out of my mouth like a broken Hoover Dam. Torrents of anus gravy explode out of my butt with such force, I swear the back of my jeans have blown out. My male member unloads two and half quarts of piss as I gargle multi-colored puke out onto the cold hard ground. I'm on my hands and knees, silently begging for death. I try desperately to hold back my enraged fluids but to no avail. I am in hell as I shake, puke, piss and shit like some monstrous human crap sprinkler. Intermittently, as I attempt to stop heaving, a strange, bear-like roar is unleashed from my throat. At least, that's how my sister has described it.

Finally, my sister comes out. I'm surprised no one had heard me before. Later, someone told me that they had heard me but were afraid to come out. They thought they heard a monster. It was me.

My sister, thankfully, brought out some rags and a pair of shorts for me to use. I had to strip off all of my clothes as they were completely soiled. I wiped the various chunks of stuff off of me and then changed clothes, stumbling over a rock, while doing so. Extremely dehydrated and exhausted, I drug my limp, foul body back inside the tent and collapsed. It seemed the good times were over.

In the morning, everyone regains consciousness and begins to rise. When they look at me, they see a pale form lying still on the floor. My arms are crossed over my chest (in burial fashion) and my eyes are swollen shut. They actually thought I was a goner. Luckily, my sister traveled to the parking area and brought my car to me when I resurrected from the grave. I left the campground with a chafed anus, bloody raw throat and pounding grey matter. Hardly able to see through my watering eyes, I made it back home. A miracle.

A day later, either my wife or mother were doing me the favor of washing my jeans. The same jeans that had been so ruthlessly abused during my puking escapade. Feeling something hard in the lower pants leg, she became curious and reached up inside to pull out a dry, foot long solid turd.

What a delightful surprise.

THE END