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Frozen Eggs by Ray Printer Friendly

It’s April here in Austin, which apparently means forty degrees and ice pelting my windows all day long. I haven’t checked the weather for the rest of the nation (or the world, for that matter), but I can only assume that if it’s cold here, the rest of you are probably at the point where you’re throwing small children on the fire to keep from freezing to death. It’s unreal, man.

I can’t imagine Easter egg hunting this year. Actually, I can, and all of my imaginings involve that cartoon dog that was always dumping shit into the cat. I remember seeing that dog one time, and I asked my mom what was in that little barrel the dog had around his neck. She was folding clothes and holding my baby brother while he screamed. She was also baby-sitting a couple of other kids at the time, and I have no idea what they were up to, but it was noisy as all hell. “I don’t know,” she told me, “But I sure could use a couple drinks of it.”

I later found out that it was booze in that little barrel, and I’m guessing that she knew it all along—after all, this is the same woman who informed me that Scotch tastes really good just after brushing your teeth with Close-Up toothpaste (it does, too—try it).

I’m planning on starting a fire in my fireplace and hanging out Christmas-style for Easter, which pretty much guarantees that it will be 90 degrees tomorrow.

We’ll see, I guess. Anyways, Happy Easter, kids. (audio by Jim Gaffigan)


posted 4/8/07


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