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2006-05-30 @ 12:10 p.m.
nothing could be finer than a shriner with a shiner in the mornin'

It was so worth getting up early yesterday to walk two blocks to watch our Memorial Day parade and see those old geezer Shriner guys driving around in lazy eights in those funky ass little mini-cars. Woot! If I was strapped down to a table in a horror movie and the person torturing me was trying to scare me into submission and brought in zombies and then brought in shriners with their little tasseled hats, I would definitely be more scared of the shriners. Definitely. I mean, shriners should be taken to Guatanamo Bay and used to extract information from prisoners, because they’re just....that.....scary!!

Plus they also had clowns in our parade. Argh!! Clowns and shriners, all at the same time! I’m really glad they also had ambulances and EMTs in the parade since I nearly died of a heart attack seeing both of them in such close proximity...Shriners and clowns. Yeeks! Can you imagine if they ever bred? First of all, I can’t even imagine shriners having sex. Like when was the last time that happened? Like back when “Gunsmoke” was on? Was television even invented? I mean, those guys are old. Was there even a Bush in the White House. I bet Joan Rivers was a virgin.

I actually think shriners and clowns are interchangeable. Like maybe they get together at some secret location and try on each other’s clothes and make-up. And then they worship some massive icon that looks like a cross between George Burns and Bozo the Clown. And then they have some secret handshake. And then somewhere amongst their membership they have the name of at least one reputable mini-clown car repair shop.

It’s all very secretive though, despite their do-good reputation. But hey, like where are the women shriners? Huh? The shrinettes? I could definitely get into dressing like a plump middle-aged genie with a tasseled hat. Think how cute I’d look! Kinda like “I Dream of Jeannie: The Menopausal Years”.

And how cool would it be to be able to drive one of those midget car in a parade, with the possibility of running over small children and squirrels. I could just see feeling hormonal one parade route Monday and suddenly flooring that sucker and taking out Charlie Smith, WW I War Veteran in Shriner Car #1 in front of me. He’d probably have to be put in a full body cast, but he’d still wear his little shriner beanie, damnit, since he’s such a true blue shriner guy!

What? Oh come on, don’t tell me these guys don’t have the Shriner 500 on the weekends they’re not in parades. I can just see them all lined up at some starting point, somewhere, gunning their little mini-shriner engines, especially if there’s no women around to talk some sense into them. Because can you imagine the inherent danger of going 100 mph in a car that is 2 inches off the ground. Especially with only a felt shriner beanie for cranial protection. And forget about stuffing an airbag into that little tiny shriner steering wheel. Ain’t gonna happen, skippy. You crash, next thing you know, you’re chatting with Elvis up in heaven about Walmart.

Okay, so maybe I’m a little angry. They didn’t throw any candy to me along the parade route yesterday. Adults like candy too, you know. But no, everybody just kept throwing candy to the kids who were sitting about 10 feet away from me and all I got was some old crazy guy who almost ran over my feet in a miniature death trap. Bitter...yes? I suppose. Because all I really wanted was a couple of tootsie rolls as I was watching the freakin’ Memorial Day Parade. Is that too much to ask?

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Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty