Holy Hand Grenades

So I made my eggs, by myself [monkeys were at their dad’s and who says you need kids to play with food coloring?!]. It was fun. I turned on the tunes and hunted down a crayon and made everything from flowery, pretty eggs to orange and black Halloween eggs. Because, well, I could! I think we should color eggs in the middle of August… just cuz. I mean, why not? Why only at Easter? Because it’s tradition? Puh-lease. Have you looked at some of our modern traditions lately?

Easter. Really? It’s been warped and twisted—like Christmas. Start with a day off [for some] for Good Friday and kill the son of God, toss in some egg coloring and hiding, a ton of chocolate and/or sugar in general, an Easter Bonnet [which has nothing to do with dressing for church and everything to do with being the springtime version of a Christmas stocking], turn the son of God into a zombie, tithe, eat ham, hug your family members, and close out with a post-meal nap without a football game to yell at.

All the pagan holidays were taken over by religion, and hundreds of years later, the mess that’s left is a commercial nightmare. But who says we can’t have some fun with this, eh? After all, we celebrated another confused holiday with green beer not too long ago! So how’s this… Jesus vs. the Easter Bunny [and now I have that scene from the Holy Grail stuck in my head!] Can you just imagine the conversation if either of these lovely fictional beings were real?!

Jesus: So ya know, it’s my birthday. Well, second birthday technically. Hey! I wonder if that’s where “born again” comes from.

Easter Bunny: Whatever dude. Just shut up and help me hide the damn eggs.

Jesus: Yeah, eggs. I’ve been meaning to ask… um. You don’t lay eggs. So… ya know…

Easter Bunny: Serious? You’re gonna go there?! Didn’t I explain this to you once already? I’m a fertility symbol, the eggs are a fertility symbol…

Jesus: But Easter is about my resurrection, not fertili—

Easter Bunny: Dude, really?! I have nothing to do your with your dogma. I was a happy little pagan holiday that celebrated spring and life, until your *ahem slayers ahem* converters came along and WHAM, they made a christian holiday that coincides and started sucking ’em into your pews.

Jesus: That’s not how I roll… you know that, right? That wasn’t me, or my idea…

Easter Bunny: Doesn’t matter anymore. Millions of children are confused as hell each spring when they hunt for eggs and eat chocolate and then get dressed up to go to church. 1+2=7 in modern tradition. Now shut the hell up and hide the damn eggs… my feet are killing me and I’d like to have a drink or ten before I crash for the night.

Jesus: Do you have any wine?

Easter Bunny: No, dude. I have beer. Dark, thick, lovingly brewed by women with thick necks, beer… I’m German ya wanker. We drink beer.

Jesus: I’m telling my dad you called me that!

[For those new to the show, or that just don’t pay attention, yes, I’m a dirty rotten atheist. But I won’t hold it against you =) I actually don’t care what you believe, as long as you leave me out it. If this offended you, you let it. And that, much like which socks you chose this morning, had nothing to do with me. Lighten up… eat a hollow chocolate bunny ear or something. I apologize for nothing—though I didn’t expect the bunny to sound bitter, nor plan for Jesus to sound like a surfer]

0 Responses to Holy Hand Grenades

  • Phyllis says:

    Oh, that was hilarious! I needed a good laugh!

  • Raven Z. says:

    This may be a few days late, but you can add it to your Egg Painting Playlist for next Easter/Ostara/Springtime.

    And this Samhain/Halloween I’m painting a FrankenEgg and Draculegg just for you.

    BTW – Kevin Smith has permanently burned “Buddy Christ” as my vision of Jesus into my brain. Not too far from Surfer Jesus. LMAO.

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