Seven Vulgar Gods of the Wooded Plain

Good god, Friday again already? And, as always, this is good news, but this weekend is different. It's time to hose down the animals, hide wooden ducks around the house and bury a crisp five dollar bill in the yard - it's Newington Day's Eve! The Newington Day Extravaganza of Excesses of all Your Favorite Worldly Delights technically kicked off yesterday, but for our purposes, it will kick of tomorrow at around 3 PM.

A brief recap of last year: beer, grill assembled (unused), 1,000 lbs of spare ribs, kiddie pool, Siesta!, more beer, ladies in the kiddie pool, hose?, squirt guns, vegans, el chupacabra, water balloon?, giant feet, crowded party neighborhood, a lot more beer, fireworks, peeing in public, drag a shitting dog, more ladies in the kiddie pool, asleep with shoe'd feet in the kiddie pool and escape. I can't be certain that all of these things occurred as this was a year ago and what am I the Amazing Kreskin; but I assure you, at least most of it happened.

All of this will be happening again this weekend. Religious types may regard this as a small, self-contained apocalypse or perhaps a Sodom/Gomorrah situation, but they are too prudish to appreciate it for what it really is: the good people of Newington offering a sacrifice of twenty nubile young virgins to their Seven Vulgar Gods of the Wooded Plain.

So until then, I will be beating the body damage out of my car with a three pound drilling hammer and other various tools that should afford me a great deal of mechanical advantage over that rotten pile of sheet metal, and I'll grit my teeth, too. Tomorrow will be long and harrowing, and I will not rest until we Win Newington Day!