Miracle in a Meemaw
As people all across this great globe of ours gather in concentrated prayer circles to birth messages of hope, love and ‘DON’T GO TOWARD THE LIGHT, OH MIGHTY TOOMER’S OAKS!’ and dispatch those dreams to the heavens on the wings of white doves – I had feared hope may be fading.
Reports are grim.
My outlook was getting dim.
Until I cast a beady, tear-filled eye upon a vision so pure I felt immediately infused with the light of a thousand candles wrapped in a thousand paper plates held by a thousand innocent children holding hands, singing soft, sweet songs as they walked through a field of wildflowers.
Yup, that good. For:
THE NANNA MESSIAH!!
With absolutely no effort, plan or purpose whatsoEVER, Nanna Messiah shone the warm light of her sunny-sided SO WHAT-ery down upon me.
Nanna Messiah is a walking, smoking, drinking, diapered monkey-baby loving example of just how far mankind can go, just how much we can achieve when we give the old forearm shiver to fate followed by a gigantic F U to any fuckery that might befall us.
Queue the ‘AHHHHHH’
And so I — like Nanna Messiah — say fuck you to the jackbag who committed the felonious assault on our adored arbors as I hoist a cold one to all of my fellow timber treasurers and engage my powers of ultra heightened hopification using the entirety of my newly enlightened, yet historically boozified heart.
Because Nanna Messiah IS … all else is possible.
Spread the word.