Every year that we have been married, my mother-in-law would call to see what we would be doing for Lent. Every year Mick made something up, and we went on with out lives. This year however, we can't hide. We live less than 30 minutes from Mick's parents, and she feels compelled to give up something for Lent to avoid parental harassment.
So for Lent, Mick is giving up Starbucks, and steak. Today she urged me to give up something, to which I replied "what the hell for?!". I'm not Catholic. I'm not anything. If I worship anyone as a god, it would be Arthur Guinness, the creator of said beer. Or The Murphy family, who gave me my beloved Murphy's Stout.
Give up beer then, she said. What? Are you fucking kidding me? Give up beer to observe a religious ritual that sounds like it was named after something I pull out of my pockets?! I think not. But after threatening me with you know what...precisely a lack of you know what...I came to decision to give something up. I'm not going to shave for 40 days. I shaved my head clean of everything but my eyebrows yesterday to kick it off. Threatening me with sexual depravity is like backing a wounded animal into a corner. I made a desperation move that will end in me looking like Grizzly Adams.

4 comments:
AHAHAHAHA! That should be interesting!
Though if I was Mick, I wouldn't want to sleep with Grizzly Adams either.
We already know that 3 days of growth makes me look rugged, and 6 days makes me look "out-doorsy". I don't think I'll be able to match Grizzly's length after 40, but I should come pretty damn close.
LOL! You've gotta take pictures!!! Sasquatch man!!!
I'll be back on the job soon, Thinkinfyou, doing super secret shit and all. So I'll think about the pictures. Maybe some isolation pictures.
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