First of all, Easter reminds me that I'm still looking to start my "Save Your Soul!" business.
But seriously, Easter sucks. First of all, it's a real signal of the
onset of Spring, which means Summer's right around the corner and I'll
be boiling in my own sweat, crying. When I was a kid it seemed like we
went to Mass every day that week, which meant I wore my 600% polyester
tan "suit" with a brown clip-on about five fucking times, and then the "piƩce de resistence!" was
lining up Easter morning the same as we did Christmas morning, getting
all wound up "ooooh, did the Easter Bunny come??!?" only to find out
that yes, he had, but instead of leaving toys or anything remotely fun
or useful, he left a gay basket with candy in it. Wow. Thanks asshole;
how long do I hafta pretend I give a shit before I can throw the crap
out? Ugh.
And why is Easter on Sunday? If Jesus died on a Friday and then rose
from the dead three days later, wouldn't that be a Monday? Or did the
Church for once in their lives make a good decsicion, saying "that would
mean we'd hafta go to Mass on Sunday and then AGAIN on Monday, so fuck
it"? Why not just make it Good Thursday, and go from there? Did "super-ripped dude with a smokin' body nailed to a cross" just have an end-of-the-week "feel" to it?
And of course Jesus' friends turned on him. Can you imagine the shit
they were getting from their mothers? "Weeeellllll, I hear Mary
Christ's boy is healing lepers and turning water into wine; what the
hell are you doing? Weren't you going to be a chiropodist? I'm very
disappointed in you. Why can't you be more like that Jesus?" My mother
would drive me crazy whining "why can't you do better in Trigonometry,
like your friend Robert?" He wasn't even the son of god, and it was
fucking maddening to hear.
"Really. I spend 3 months introducing USD certificates of deposit
into London as the first new negotiable instrument in the market since
1888, and this motherfucker brings me...a bunch of fucking candy. Hmm."
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