It’s Easter again, that special time of year when we gather our family and friends together and ponder the spiritual question that festers in our collective brains, namely: “How can rabbits lay eggs?”
I thought about it and had an epiphany. What is the most relevant symbol of this holiday season? Of course – the Easter basket. It’s filled with fake grass upon which rests brown oval offerings. OMFG! Bunny doots! That’s what we’ve been eating all along. That rabbit must have a serious blood sugar problem to make such tasty doots. And why does my spell checker not recognize a completely valid and perfectly tasteful English word like “doots.”
But in our bunnified revelries, let us not forget the real meaning of Easter, which is a time to commemorate the day when Peter Cottontail laid down his life and was stewed for our sins. Then jesus came along and took credit. Don’t let the xtian hippy god steal Easter away from the bunnies. He already took HKRXmasux from Santa.
Myself, I’m looking forward to Monday, a.k.a. the day after Easter when the leftover bunny doots go on sale. I’ll see you in the supermarkets.
BTW, I just realized the Peter Cottontail song can be sung to the tune of Amazing Grace. “He-ere coooooomes…Peter Cottontail, hopping dooooown…the bunny trail. Hippity, Hoppity, Easter’s on its waaa-aaay.” Go on, try it. In church this weekend. I dare ya.
Bunny doots, out
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1 comment:
Imagine me doing my best Grumpy Smurf imitation:
"I hate holidays!"
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