Little date to church.

Part II

While I was out today, I noticed a little peculiar something that inspired vague thoughts of a long-ago life.

People walking around with black spots on their foreheads. It's lent. Time for giving up shit. And thinking about life. And corporal mortification. Sign me up!

I remember as a kid, I would give up things that really mattered. Other kids were giving up chocolate and ice cream. I would give up sadness. I mean, if you're going to give something up, why not kill two birds with one stone and make it mutually beneficial? God gets my sadness, I get to not have it for a while. Not bad.

That's not how it worked, apparently. I was told that I would need to give up something like chocolate.. something that I LIKED. Ok, I said, I'll give up the chicks. I think the only one I really amused with that was myself.

So, in honor of the lenten season and of the fond memories of the past, I will, once again, give up the chicks. No more chicks for me. I mean, I love titties like the next person, but it's going to have to wait a few weeks. In the meantime, God's gonna have some great fun, and I'll just have to enjoy my own titties for a while.

Amen!

The word 'titties' really makes me giggle.