Ah Easter, a spring festival usually celebrated with snow still on the ground in this part of the world, a time when women would march up and down on streets showing off their spring finery in an ice storm because they were too damned stupid to stay in out of the rain, where damned fools would get up before sunrise to sit by a bandshell in a big park listening to some overpaid buffoon hired to preach there, and of course when families all over the country would sit down to roast ham, to show God that they really weren’t Jews.
Fortunately most of those behaviors have gone by the board. No one cares what women wear any more. All that matters is how fast you can get them out of what they are wearing. And the other stuff? Well, some folks still eat ham but because they like it, not because they have to prove to God that they are not Jews. After all, Jesus, in whose day this is supposed to be in honor of, was a Jew and could be offended and it is not good to offend people. Especially people who can have you spend eternity in a lake of fire.
Unless you are Uncle Chuckie!
So, here we go!
As soon as I done writing this, I’m going to wire my helmet to a radionic transmitter set to broadcast to the whole country. I’m assuming that the good religious folk are in bed, sleeping, because they have to get up to go to church. And then I I’m going to put on my helmet and watch some nice, hardcore, bdsm porn videos and broadcast that into their sleeping little heads. Some of them are going to have some very unholy dreams.
Nighty night.
The Wit and Wisdom of Uncle Chuckie 