Brett Rants

Daddy Dearest

Eighty Two, Eighty Three Years, it was a good run.

candles, the type one might light in a catholic cathedral or basalist, I think the one nearby is, in memorial to their father, I mean, one might, might'ent they

My father died recently. I won't bother to look up the date (or even how old he was). Strange what's important... how we commemorate things... or at least, how I commemorate things. My father dies. No point in remembering the date or even computing his final age. But rather, and quite obviously, it's time to write up a special web page (maybe a bunch of them) in his honour. Oh, I know, I'll take a picture of the candles in the church... couldn't actually get one to light on his behalf due to the cross currents (breeze, actually, or more like a strong wind flowing through the open windows of the chapel), but I got the picture and that's what's important... as is being sarcastic (common sign of grief) and making lists with nifty cross-like symbols in lieu of the standard bullet points (see, deeply religious, I be).

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Pepperoni?
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What would papa order?

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