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REO Speedwagon
"Live: You Get What You Play For"
This past weekend we decided to head up to the mountains, basically because there was nothing else to do.
We found a good spot at the top of one of the local mountains and decided to hike along one of the trails. I was
a little bit scared because I feared a sudden attack by either rattlesnakes, scorpions, black widow spiders or
grizzly bears.
No attacks came, but I was surprised by the amount of graves. Little crosses dotted the landscape, but I could
not imagine why someone would bury something or someone up in the mountains.
Sure, it could be a crazed killer, but why would they bother to place crosses on the gravesites? Maybe a hillbilly
mountain clan was burying their kin up in them there mountains, or maybe the graves were filled with family pets.
Who knows?
There was one large gravesite with a cross and a plant growing wild on top of the mound. "Chelsea 1984-1994"
was written on the cross and I was mighty curious.
The grave was about the size of a 10 year old child, but it was also the size of a 10 year old rottweiler. I thought
for a moment of digging up the grave to find out what was inside, but I remembered what happened the last time
I did that.
I was in England and it was a rainy night. Really. I was coming home from a pub with a few friends and we were
quite drunk. Really.
We cut across a graveyard and stumbled into a raised grave. Whoever was buried in it had been dead for about 100
years and they had died at an early age.
For some reason, I felt the urge to look inside the grave so we slid the heavy stone cover to the side and peeked
inside. I only remember seeing old fashioned clothes and a large pocket watch then we figured we had done something
quite evil so we ran.
Disturbing the dead isn't a good thing to do. I know this because I have had a rotting corpse following me around
every day since that night in the graveyard.
It kind of sucks to be driving and, while looking at your rearview mirror, seeing a decayed human being sitting
in the back seat. It's also pretty bad when you're in bed having some great sex only to find that this same corpse
is standing at the end of your bed watching.
I have tried to shoo him away, but he doesn't listen, probably because his ears have rotted off. I try waving him
away, but he waves back and thinks I am playing a game. I have also tried talking to him but he only moans since
his tongue fell of many, many ears ago.
I have lived with him for about 20 years now, and he really hasn't done anything mean yet, except for the time
he pointed at my goldfish and it burst into flames. I probably did something that pissed him off so I obviously
deserved it.
One corpse is enough so I decided not to dig up the grave in the mountain. Besides, I didn't have a shovel and
I didn't feel like getting dirty.
HAPPY MEMORIAL DAY!!
COMING NEXT: Paint sniffing: An obsession
or just a hobby?
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if you wanna give Stephen "A Good, Ass Whuppin."
Snide_Remarks@weirdcrap.every1.net
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