Happy Easter
Happy Easter, everybody! Woo hoo! Well, Lent is over, Christ is risen, and that can only mean one thing: fuck, shit, bitch, ass, FUCK! Have a fan-fucking-tastic Easter, you fucking bastards! I feel like Miquel Ferrer in Hot Shots: Part Deux, "Thanks, Topper, I can kill again!"

I love Easter and I hate Easter. I love Easter because, well, it's the bestest holiday in the Christian faith. Eat shit, world, you thought you could kill the Jesus? Fuck you, he's the Son of Man! My man's fucking unstoppable! Holes in his hands and his sides, but the son of a gun walks again. In cinematic terms, it would be The Passion II: Jesus Rides Again. On the other hand, I hate Christmas-and-Easter church goers. You hypocritical piles of crap, why are you even here? Are you afraid for your soul and think showing up twice a year will save you? Jumpin' Jack Pratt, do you understand the first thing about His grace? My point is this: my mom goes to church way more than twice a year; so, on those very crowded days, she has earned a pew, Bog damn it. I will kill all you other other motherfuckers to make sure she gets a seat, you understand me?

So, while Mom was sitting somewhere near the front, I was standing in the very back of the church. I have to tell you, it was pretty cool back there. I was right along the center aisle and could see up the red carpet to the alter and above Father Bill's and Deacon Corder's heads the uncovered statue of the risen Christ. I've always liked sitting in the back of classrooms; so, I can scan the whole room. I discovered today that I really like being at the back of the church. (And Holy Redeemer is a Catholic church; so, you know, this is a large structure seating what? A thousand folks? Maybe more.) Also, now I want to be an usher. Those guys have like their own little club back there. They're half-paying attention and cracking little jokes and displaying a very endearing world-weariness/devotion. They've been there and been at it so long that they can only be doing it out of love, yet feel comfortable enough just hang out. I want one of those red jackets, damn it.

I said a Rosary last night before going to sleep. I may have to start doing that on a more regular basis. The Mountain of Love wrote a very venomous column about his atheism for The Newsletter; I definitely need to stop praying for his soul. Let the little fucker burn. Yeah yeah, I know, hate the sin, love the sinner. It's not in my nature to be a Christian, yet here I am. Damn it.

H-A-D
Have a hot day.