Pagans in the park.

Today was quite the day at Murray Park.  As I entered the park, I noticed that there was quite the hubbub at the ol' middle mezzanine.   The stinging stench of incense filled the air like smoke filling the uh, air.  It actually smelled like there was a forrest of giant incense-stick redwoods that were burning like ragweed.  As I got closer, I became aware that I had entered the dark lord death zone known as the Pagan/Wicca conference.

What is interesting is that they were selling all sorts of Pagan home decor such as rugs, curtains and blankets.  I guess they took a cue from their Amish brotheren... People will pay a fortune for a hand made Pagan quilt!  I swear I saw Paige Davis in a black shirt and kilt wondering around, looking for some charming new decor. 

I am not sure what the connection is between Pagans and all their doltish rituals.  I wonder if, 200 years ago, there were a group of guys drinking beer in a barn.  I think their conversation may have gone something like this:

Billy Joe:  I donst believe in God anymore.  (I am guessing that they said donst back in 1808.)

Edward Hoedigger:  I have known it.  I feel the same as thine.

Well, what shall we do to benefit us?

I am not sure, but the best I can thinkest that we can do is to wear black tee shirts with wizards on them, burn stinky sticks that burnst like the bear urine and bang on drums while we danceth with hula hoops and the like.  

Thine thoughts make total sense.

And thus, it begun.  They have been meeting in parks on Saturdays ever since.

If you were wondering, I made it out of the park without harm.  Wiccas are generally gutless pansies.  However, I am sure that all of the 2nd hand incense smoke will do wonders for my lungs.