You know what makes me sick? You know what makes me so mad I just wanna eat worms?
I think most of you know by now… I got two major pet peeves in this world. The first being… people who put clothes on dogs. And the second one is when people call other people ‘lucky’ – who are obviously not lucky. You know when some poor idiot accidentally shoots a nail through their brain with a nail-gun… and survives. And the doctors say… ‘He was lucky.’ Really? How does shooting a four-inch nail through your skull… qualify you as ‘lucky’? Stupid – I get. Butter-fingers? Probably. But not lucky.
Well – I found another pet peeve. When you dopey people die doing what you love, like a sport or adventure… and your widder goes, ‘Well, Buddy died doing what he loved.’ Lady – he was clutching his chest and fighting for air.
Lemme ask you something? Is that the way you want to go? Doing something you love? That sounds like a cruel joke to me. The Almighty is up there watching you work your butt to the bone. He’s watching your family ride your back like a circus pony. He’s watching you struggle to make ends meet and keep the wolf away from the door. Then you slip on some bowling shoes – and he punches your ticket.
Don’t die doing what you love
So if it’s okay with God… here’s a list of times I do not want to go. That would include when I’m bowling… fishing… hunting… drinking… watching NASCAR… watching football… hanging at the Duck Inn… or camping.
Now I would not mind kicking the bucket at work… standing in line at the DMV… at one of my old lady’s family reunions… or at a high school band concert.
Then at my funeral – my old lady could tell visitors… ‘well, at least Earl died doing what he hated.’ And they’d look down on me in the coffin and think… ‘lucky son of a pup.’
Wake Up, America!!! I don’t want to die doing what I loved. I would rather have my wife telling people… ‘the nice thing is… the company paid for the whole eight hours.’ Buy my book. I’m Earl Pitts, American. Pitts Off.
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