Of Grave Importance

Trubie finds someone who is an even bigger X-phile than she is.

True and I share a love of graveyards. I like them because they’re quiet and green–like a park, and there’s hardly anyone there. You can browse among the stones, have a picnic, whatever, and not run into dogs chasing frisbees. Hopping on her bandwagon, here are my two favorite graveyard pics:

Imagine going through life with this name, much less death.

The gravestone looked like it was salty, so Anna paid Dave a dollar to find out. It wasn’t.

I won’t be having a gravestone, but if I did, I’m at a loss for something clever to engrave thereon. Maybe: “This wasn’t in the plan, dammit.”

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