Friday, April 2, 2010

No. 109 "Easter Sunday."

Ah, Easter Sunday. The special holiday that comes sometime between St. Paddy's Day and Cinco De Mayo, except less boobs and beads are involved, unfortunately. Its a time to wake up at the ass crack of dawn, act like a child, and pretend to know the lyrics of songs about that Jesus fellow. There's nothing better. I thought it would be the Catholic thing to give you a time line on how a normal Easter Sunday goes for the average twentysomething. Enjoy.


4:02 AM: Be awoken by your all-too-happy mom, and told to get ready for sunrise mass.

4:03 AM: Contemplate suicide.

4:15 AM: Be awoken once again by your angry mom as she throws the pastel colored outfit she bought you on your lifeless body.

4:18 AM: Get up and take a shower. Use one of the "manly" body washes you own.

4:30 AM: Look at self naked. Consider gym membership.

4:41 AM: Sit at breakfast bar waiting for hearty breakfast.

4:43 AM: Be notified by your dad that your mom is not your slave, and that everyone is already running late because of "your lazy ass."

4:44 AM: Contemplate punching your dad.

5:00 AM: Get into family car with brothers and sisters. Fight for five minutes over who has to sit "bitch."

5:01 AM: Be yelled at by your mom for saying "bitch" on Jesus' day.

5:05 AM: Leave house, but turn around once your mom realizes she forgot her purse.

5:07 AM: Watch as your dad rolls his eyes. Make a misogynistic joke once your mom leaves the car. Fist bump your dad.

5:11 AM: Listen to your dad's shitty music.

5:19 AM: Wish you were raised Jewish.

5:25 AM: Arrive at church to see lines longer than Six Flags for parking spots.

5:31 AM: Hear your dad use the lord's name in vain twenty eight times while looking for a parking spot.

5:38 AM: Park two miles away in the Walgreen's parking lot.

5:40 AM: Run to the church and laugh at the way your mom jogs in heels.

5:51 AM: Walk into church and see no seats available. Judge people that have seats and attempt to bribe an usher to get a chair.

5:58 AM: Watch a bunch of dipshit little kids sing a song about Jesus.

6:00 AM: The priest arrives and attempts a lame joke. Don't laugh.

6:03 AM: Listen to the choir sing a song. Yell out "Free Bird!"

6:07 AM: Complain that your legs hurt.

6:08 AM: Sit on the ground. Be yelled at by your dad.

6:11 AM: Check out the hottie sitting three rows in front of you. Wonder if she's one of those lame "wait until marriage" chicks or the naughty catholic schoolgirl type. Go with the former after seeing granny panties once she leans over.

6:15 AM: Look at watch. Think to yourself that God is making time go slower just to make you suffer for all the horrible things you did in college.

6:23 AM: Try to sing a song from the lyrics pamphlet. Realize that you're singing the wrong song.

6:27 AM: Sing the lyrics to "Still D.R.E." until someone notices.

6:30 AM: Roll your lyrics pamphlet into a cylinder and smack your sister with it.

6:33 AM: Look at watch. Curse God in your head.

6:40 AM: Fall asleep. Be immediately woken by a strong pinch from your livid mom. Overreact and whisper that you might be bleeding.

6:41 AM: Be yelled at by your dad. Try to explain yourself, but become marinated with sharp shushes.

6:45 AM: Think about how comfortable your bed would be right now.

6:49 AM: Tell dirty joke to your brother. Be shushed by the couple behind you.

6:52 AM: Look around entire church, try to find a black person. Give up after five minutes of searching.

6:57 AM: Watch dipshit little kids dismantle another stupid song.

7:00 AM: Ask your mom how much longer this is going to last. Receive no positive information.

7:03 AM: Shake hands with a bunch of strangers for some reason. Fake a couple smiles.

7:06 AM: Look at watch.

7:06 AM: Look at watch. Wonder if your watch is broken.

7:08 AM: Listen to the priest give a long winded version of the same story you've heard twenty three times.

7:17 AM: Begin a line for communion. Be excited that it's almost over.

7:21 AM: Curse under your breath about how the line hasn't moved yet.

7:27 AM: Receive communion. Wonder if you are now forgiven for "the dead hooker incident" you were a part of last weekend.

7:31 AM: Go back to your seat standing area. Wait for the priest to say "...and peace be with you!" You know that means its leaving time.

7:35 AM: Grow increasingly pissed as the priest talks about church events you would never in a million years attend.

7:39 AM: Guest speaker? You gotta be fucking kidding me.

7:46 AM: And peace be with you, mother fucker! Thank God for letting this hell be over with!

7:47 AM: Feel bad for your actions throughout the service, then see a cougar in a sundress and forget what you were thinking about.

7:56 AM: Get in car. Request that everyone goes out for breakfast.

7:57 AM: Plead for an actual breakfast and not just fucking bagels.

7:58 AM: Cheer as your dad gives in.

7:55 AM: Wait in line to get out of the now full Walgreens parking lot. Hear your mom say condescending comments about people that won't let your dad into the go lane.

8:09 AM: Arrive at local breakfast shop. Wait outside as you stomach yells at you.

8:14 AM: Text your friends about how horrible church was. Wait for replies.

8:22 AM: Receive no replies. Assume they are suffering a similar fate.

8:25 AM: Get pissed when people are called before you. Suspect that they must have some sort of an in with the hostess. Curse God.

8:40 AM: Sit down in booth too small for your family. Salivate over the menu like a porno mag.

8:43 AM: Order a bloody mary. Have your first and middle name be yelled out by your mom.

8:47 AM: Order the biggest meal possible and chow down like a Feed The Hungry kid.

8:59 AM: Regret eating so much.

9:03 AM: Make small talk with your mom about how beautiful the service was. Lie a bunch.

9:13 AM: Leave the restaurant and go home. Listen to more shitty dad music.

9:30 AM: Walk into room and immediately collapse on bed.

9:33 AM: Get yelled at by your mom for wrinkling your new clothes.

9:35 AM: Change into your Bad Religion t-shirt.

9:36 AM: Nap like you've never napped before.

And that right there is an accurate time line of what Easter Sunday is like for the average twentysomething. Some of these incidents may or may not have been inspired by actual events. God bless and peace be with you!

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