I have always harbored an unbridled hate for Easter. It’s just another one of the many reasons why I am hell bound. This eliminates the “should I or shouldn’t I?” dilemma when I’m presented with a situation that could cause myself and other people harm.

Easter was always a letdown, because in an Italian family, Easter is the big day. The big show. The whole canoli. This meant that during Easter Week you had to go to Holy Thursday Mass for Stations of the Cross and then you had to go to Good Friday Mass, but you had to be quiet between 1 and 3 pm because that’s when Christ died.

(I once suggested we dress up as Roman soldiers, get spears, run around the neighborhood and stab any longhaired person we found. My mother was not amused. My sisters were because have provoked me and dared me to do things that were funny, and they usually were. I got my ass whipped, my sisters flounced away to the mall.)

Then you had Saturday before Easter. There is no name for that one. It should be called “Get Your Ass in Gear Saturday.” The house must be cleaner than clean; there are at least 12 pounds of pasta and ravioli to get ready. Don’t forget the lamb, ham, and more pasta. So get your fucking ass in the kitchen and start doing something because the Pope just might stop by.

And then, my little infidels, on Saturday night you had to go to Easter Vigil Mass – and this one lasted for THREE UNBELIEVABLE HOURS OF TORTURE! God it was brutal. First, a new candle was lit and that flame was blessed (that’s not too pagan, is it?), then you got holy water thrown on you, then the priest talked for a few days, and then you sang something called the Litany of the Saints.

Then you got people who decided to become Catholic – they weren’t born into it, they made a choice. These people were older and I wondered how they were going to catch up on their “guilt quota.” So they get baptized and they get confirmed in one shot. Then the singing of more crazy ass hymns, which Catholics are horrible at doing. Then more holy water gets flung around and then they let you go.

When I was older, I went to this mass because it made my parents happy. Also, it’s a stupid tradition and I love stupid traditions. That didn’t mean I was paying attention and getting holy. Once, during Easter Vigil Mass, I gave my mom one of those sour Warheads and her reaction caused quite as stir in our pew.

After Easter Vigil I would go out and get drunk as a motherfucker. In retrospect, I think I was trying to balance out all that good with some evil. Needless to say spending Easter Sundays surrounded by family and screaming children hung over are worse than crucifixion. (After typing that sentence, my grandmother put down her cigarettes and beer in heaven and cursed me loudly in Italian.)

Let’s not forget the run up to Easter, which is Lent. And that’s a time of reflection and you give something up. When we were kids we’d joke that we were giving up homework, or housework or worshipping Satan. These days, instead of sacrificing, the church wants you to improve yourself. Listen up homies, it’s gonna take way more than 40 days to improve myself. Why bother?

Lent also has the whole “no meat on Fridays.” This rule makes about as much sense as some of the other rules in Catholicism: no condoms, no female priests, priests can’t use lubrication on altar boys, and you know what I mean.

So why no meat? I don’t know. I know that I still do it and that’s an excellent example of Catholic guilt. The Fozz Spawn HATE that they can’t eat meat on Fridays. My wife actually denied them eating ramen noodles because they were chicken flavored. I countered that those packets of flavor had about as much chicken in them as I did. No dice. As a result I involuntarily gave up sexy time for Lent.

Although I see Easter as a drag, I continue to enjoy the actual ceremonies, the church decorated, the altar all spiffy, the priests wearing pants, it’s majestic.

If this post has offended you, good. If this post makes you see me as a hypocrite, where in the hell have you been? Enjoy whatever springtime feast you celebrate, or don’t. Remember, if you dye hardboiled eggs, you get the funkiest colored egg salad you have ever seen.

Thing that Made me Happy

A few positives on the job front, tax return loot, watching the Trump Squad stumble around and step on their dicks. And as an aside on that whole United Airlines shit. If you decide it’s time to fuck around on an airplane in this day and age, you’re gonna get stomped. Just get off the motherfucker and deal.