Saturday, March 22

Easter Singalong

The first Sunday after the first full moon following the Vernal Equinox. There will be cheap, waxy chocolate, an abundance of pastel-colored crap for children of all ages and my totally favorite part, roving rabbits hiding eggs (!).

The story: Jesus, jewish vagrant, horse-thief, and apostolic gang-leader , gets arrested by the Romans (Romani ite domum, now write it 500 times) for showing off and for disappearing for twenty years and leaving gaping holes in the bible's disjointed bullshit narrative. He is then executed, dies, and three days later, rolls away the stone that covers his crypt, sees his shadow and we get another ten weeks of Spring and a movie deal with Mel Gibson. Unless Easter falls in April, which has thirty days. Then, Easter gets moved up to Memorial Day weekend and takes place after the Indianapolis 500, where Jim Nabors sings "Back Home Again In Indiana" and the winner of the race, an Italian Scotsman, gets to drink milk and lip-lock Ashley Judd.

So put your presents under the Easter Tree, make a wish and make sure you place under your pillow any teeth that have recently fallen out. Then get up really early on Sunday, get dressed up and go sit in a church and try to get caught up on the sleep you missed. Then you eat ham in celebration of famous Canadian William Shatner's birthday and make sure to save some food for the rabbit. I'll be there around noon. None of that cheap-ass shit chocolate, either. I want the good stuff.

Thus spake the rabbit.

2 comments:

Applecart T. said...

my favorite was always the hollow bunny-type waxy stuff. there's just something about it. not any more, being post-sugar (not "clean," by any means, but no longer in love), and since mom always made easter a pleasant memory, i will always enjoy inhaling the particular aroma of jelly bird eggs mixed with chocolate amid cellophane grass to bring that back. (i still have my first easter basket, because i'm nostalgic-nuts like that.)

Le Grand Lapin said...

Yeah, the boss rabbit gave me a choco-bunny, which I immediately inhaled like so much brown cocaine. My nostalgia leans to the cups of vinegary soup for dyeing eggs. Made more than one mess, and lost more than one egg as they rolled under various pieces of heavy furniture. They eventually made their location known, though. Pew.