After apologizing to the neighbors and offering to pay for the damages done to their hot tub by Briter and his Peeps Easter “surprise” gone horribly awry, we decided that once again he would not be joining us at Nevada Girl‘s on Easter. So, instead, we invited our dear friend, Mr. Brenda.

How Mr. Brenda came to be one of our closest friends is unclear to us. The B-Man thinks it had something to do with a karaoke contest mishap, and I think it was a mishap at the Virginia City outhouse races. Regardless, Mr. Brenda is a sweetheart. When you first meet him you think he might be kind of simple, but ask him about Paris Hilton and he’s like freaking Stephen Hawking.

We checked into our hotel room which was decorated during the height of the Laura Ashley period and had not been updated since. “They better fix the rip in this wallpaper if they want to keep their two-and-a-half star rating,” sniffed Mr. Brenda.

The view of the Sierras from our room was stunning, but not for the usual reasons you’d expect.

Mr. Brenda was all in a mood because he hadn’t thought of an Easter bonnet idea yet. We sent him to the 24-hour Bloody Mary Buffet wagon we saw downstairs to maybe mellow out and get some liquid inspiration. Seeing the wagon made me think of Briter and how much fun he’d have with a cart full of alcohol on a crowded casino floor.

Mr. Brenda came back several hours in a much, much better mood and obviously very, very inspired–if you know what I mean–and spent the rest of the evening trying to call Ms. Hilton for bonnet ideas using the “bathroom phone” and then complaining when he couldn’t get a dial tone.

Next morning we went to Nevada Girl’s for the Easter parade. Everyone had wonderful hats. Here’s our gracious and beautiful host, Nevada Girl.

Here’s The B-Man and me. His hat was a very cool Victorian bird cage bonnet. You could see birds, butterflies, and a rabbit inside!

The other marchers had bonnets, too.

So did the spectators.

Pretty much everyone had a bonnet in the parade except for poor Mr. Brenda. I wondered if he felt a little ashamed about it and that’s why he kept his head down as we marched and yelled our way down the street.

I needn’t have worried. On the way back to our hotel room, we heard him whisper, “Thank you, Paris,” and since he says that several times a day for no reason, we didn’t think anything of it. When we got into the room, he made a beeline to the bathroom, and when he came out, he had his Easter bonnet! Complete with rakish bunny ears! “Something I saw her wear on,” he said. Good job, Mr. Brenda!

Thus, a happy ending for our wonderful Easter weekend. Thank you, Nevada Girl!