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 "piéce 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 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 decision, 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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