bigpimpinmba's Diaryland Diary

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I could get away with murder

This upcoming Sunday, since my wife and I are good Catholics, we are having the nice priest at the church pour some water on my baby girl�s head in order that she not be considered sinful anymore. After my child�s sin is wiped away, we will do what Catholics the world over do� We shall drink and be merry.

Catholics, especially Irish-Catholics (my wife�s side), tend to enjoy the after-party that comes with the big Church events (you know� Baptism, Communion, Confirmation, Marriage, Funerals) Yes, some Catholics even like to turn a Funeral into a party � It certainly is an excuse to drink and get some free food, whether the funeral has a party atmosphere or not.

In the old days, I think that Confirmation may have been something that was kind of done quietly, without much fanfare, maybe in the school parking lot on their way to catch the donkey cart home. Something that happens during school really doesn�t make for a good party. My feeling is that Patrick O�Shea noticed that his son, Lucky, was nearing the age when he would come home from school and tell him that he had been confirmed during recess. Always aching for a party, Patrick petitioned his cousin Shane O�Shea, who so happened to be a Priest, to give Confirmation a little bump in stature to be a full-blown Sacrament, so he could have some friends over for a few pints of celebration without his wife getting too mad at him. Pretty soon, all of Ireland was behind this idea and the Vatican decided to go full-force with this Confirmation as a Sacrament deal. Thank YOU, Mr. O�Shea.

So, back to the present, we�re basically going to have a bunch of our closest, mooching-est friends and family come back to our house to eat our food and drink my beer. Since we are having people over, my wife has a laundry list of things to do that stretches from our house to the church.

As if my wife�s list of �to-dos� wasn�t enough for me, I have decided that I need to heap on a few items just to make myself a little more insane. I�ve decided that my guests should not be subjected to one more visit to our house without horseshoe pits.

Horseshoe pits doesn�t really sound like too big of a chore, with the exception of the big object in the way of where my one pit will go. The previous owner put in a few (for lack of a better description) raised planting beds, which are about 3 feet wide by 6 feet long by 8 inches tall, penned in by wood on all four sides. They apparently used these little graves for planting vegetables and other growing things in them. For the Burgers, these beds have been very useful for growing giant weeds and housing big, creepy, hairy spiders.

The point of all of this crap is that I had an assload of dirt to move. Luckily, I am such manly-man that I already had two major tools in my possession for just such a task. A shovel and a cheap wheelbarrow. Boy, do I kick ass.

Anyway, the dirt-grave of 3�x6�x8� turns out to be quite a good portion of dirt, especially, when you are an out-of-shape 31 � year old. I need to start riding a bike

or something. It was Friday night and I went to my friend�s house to borrow his pickup truck so that I could put the dirt in there to bring to the dump. I pick the truck up around 9:15 and get back to my house at around 9:45. He needs the truck back by around 10:00 on Saturday morning. This leaves me with about 12 hours with the truck and I�m a motivated bastard.

Soooo�. I decide that I�m going to dig this shit out right then. On Friday night. In the dark.

I�m wheeling wheelbarrow-full of dirt after wheelbarrow-full of dirt to the pickup truck parked out at the curb in front of my house.

Up until about midnight.

In the dark.

My neighbors across the street have just finished packing their minivan up for their trip to Lake Champlain the following morning. My neighbor�s wife and son come out of their front door and head over to the minivan. I�m out there, in the dark, shoveling dirt into a strange 1980 Nissan pickup truck that they have never seen before. The only thing they have to say to me is that they are leaving for vacation in the morning and that Jimmy seems to have packed his clothes that he was going to wear on the drive in the Minivan.

Silly Jimmy.

Hello? Doesn�t this seem a little suspicious to anyone else out there? Wouldn�t you have a question or two for the Bigpimp?

Wouldn�t you want to ask a question like, �Hey Chris, is there any reason that you are shoveling dirt into this strange pickup, late at night, when the sun will be up in a scant 7 hours?� or, �Hey Chris, how are your wife and kids? We haven�t seen them in a few hours and you�re over there doing quite abnormal things.� Especially in light of my insane lapses in judgement that many of the locals have witnessed?

Well, at least if the house burns down or if I am taken away for killing my family, my neighbors can have a kick-ass time playing horseshoes in my new pits.

5:42 p.m. - 2004-08-10

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