There’s no getting around it. You can’t call yourself somebody’s friend if you haven’t built a shrine to them. (Right now you’re thinking, “Well of course, but where am I going to fit in a shrine?”) In a spare closet, silly!
We began our Shrine to Brad awhile ago, and it has grown greatly thanks to Beth providing photos and confirmation bulletins, Brad conveniently forgetting things when he leaves, and also snapping up his stuff off of eBay. (Thanks, Denis.) Be sure to notice the driftwood snake – courtesy of Grandpa Hummel -and the larger-than-life portrait of Ned. I’ll be glad to field any questions, and a free-will basket will be located at the door.
I LOVE that hat. I wish I had one like that here when I garden. And I’ve told you before, that cutout of Darth Vader will be worth a lot of money to someone. It’s from 1980. When I was born.
1980. Heh.
I think your shrine is only missing one thing…it’s a mug that Brad made for our Mom when he was in Kdg. He drew an ice cream truck on it and waited very patiently for the teacher to come over to help him write the words “bananas and nuts” on the side of the truck. Only, she never made it, so he decided to write it himself. Fortunately, his spelling has improved since kindergarten…
I’ll see if I can round that up for your collection…
Yes bring it over! I’m thinking that if the closet gets too full of momentos, we could always add on to the house.
Gee, the only people I’ve ever heard of having shrines are serial killers and psychopath (I hate typing that word and I hate typing Egypt too) stalkers and with all this talk about books on How to Kill Your Friends & Family … you’re putting me in a very awkward position if any of you end of dead.
You must really hate phrygian, too. Or glyph? or thingy? Something about those index fingers having to work too hard, Peggy??? Who’s the Egpytian psychopath now???????
(By the way, I’ll need your address. No reason.)