Ghetto Easter

My Fellow Alcoholics, i hear y’all clamoring all around the place, goin’ all “Hey, Al K Hall” with that cute drunken slur you got. “Hey Al K Hall, I wanna be a Functioning Alcoholic just like you. What do I gotta do to do that?”

Well, let me start by saying, stop your damn clamoring all around the place. i hear you just fine. i’m drunk, not deaf. After that, let me say, no one should be like me. Babes, try stumbling a mile in my shoes and you’ll feel me.

But, bypassing your nittie’s and heading straight for your gritty, you gotta celebrate, but in your own way. For example, Miss Demeanor and i had my kids over for Easter weekend so we had Easter dinner, but Ghetto style. Miss D and i may live in the capital of Yeman, but that doesn’t mean we have to be as smanchy panchy as the rest of the world. Here’s what i’m talkin’ about:

As you can see, we had a sit-down dinner with WINE, but instead of all the ham and turkey crap, we did it with Jeeze-burgers and fries. i know y’all think i was just slummin’ it here this one time and i’m not really trailer trash material… Hold on while i show you a picture of Miss D’s garden. You wanna see a Ghetto garden? i got your freakin’ ghetto garden, babes.

Left To Right: Shallot, Onion, Garlic

Miss D found an onion sprouting in the bag one time, so she planted it in our window planters. Then, when the shallots and, later, the garlic started growing in their bags, she threw them into the dirt as well. Hell, if you ain’t growing your trash, don’t even talk to me about how i’m not ghetto.

Happy Easter, babes. Here’s to hoping your new life is a better one.

Your Functional Alcoholic Slurperson, Al K Hall