Easter Lillies
So, I bought my house at an Auction. Actually, my Mom and Dad conned into buying my house at an Auction. Tweren't my idear. Anyway, my lovely shack is (no joke) somewhere in the neighborhood of 100 years old. The previous owner was a sweet little old lady who I never met. She liked to garden. So I've got a ton of plants all over my house that I've never bothered to do anything with, yet every year for the last couple of years the little bastards come up. The moral of the story: My Easter Lillies are blooming and my place looks loverly, even though I've done nothing to promote the condition.
Oh, and I've been told on more than one occassion that the sweet little old lady who used to own my house would roll over in her grave if she saw that I turned her concrete deer into Skeletal Deer with Burning Atomic Hearts.
Oh, and I've been told on more than one occassion that the sweet little old lady who used to own my house would roll over in her grave if she saw that I turned her concrete deer into Skeletal Deer with Burning Atomic Hearts.
2 Comments:
Hey, when you die, your crap gets reappropriated to those that survive. It aint fun, but that's the way the world works. You can't take it with you.
And I like the skeletal deer with atomic hearts, I'd by you more concrete things to redecorate if they didn't cost so much.
Yeah, between our place and the in-laws, there's a concrete sculptor with a 7' fucking roaring lion. I'd get it to chase your deer if it wasn't at least in the grand range. hmmmm. Maybe we could all start chipping in and getting shit to Josephy your house with for birthdays and Christmas. What you think Tate?
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