Cadbury Cream Eggs are the embryos of bedevilment

When the fuck is Easter? Does anybody know? They move it, right? It’s not one of those things that has a set date, like Christmas, or a set day in a set week, like Thanksgiving. It moves, as far as I can tell, completely arbitrarily, like the scout in Stratego.

Sometimes it’s in March, sometimes April, I don’t know why. I asked my Catholic friend about it and he said that all he knows is his mother usually cooks ham. I asked my rabbi about it, but he asked me why I thought that he was my rabbi, what with me not being Jewish and all.

Angel Of Death! Oh…Wait.

I know I’m not the first to comment on how retailers put holiday related items out earlier and earlier every year. Your mother has been going on about it forever. You have no idea how many times I’ve had to roll over and put the strapping tape back over her mouth to get her to shut up about it.

I’m trying to talk,here, Number 11!

But that’s how I know that Easter is around the corner. That’s also how I know I’m about to get the sugar shakes and have eternally sticky fingers and little wadded-up balls of multicolored foil in my pockets that will inevitably end up in the lint trap of the dryer. They put these out.

Oh good lord. What the hell are in these things? I tried to find out. I went to Wikipedia, which as we all know is the undisputable last word on anything and everything, and it didn’t tell me. THE INTERNET DOES NOT KNOW, PEOPLE! I feel very small. What did I find out? They’re made by the Brits! Are you smelling what I’m smelling? A little post-revolution angst? Huh? Very funny. Europeans cite Americans for being overweight all the time, but they sent these fucking things over here? (Hershey’s is actually under license to pimp them stateside, but the principle remains the same.)

Fat bastards!

These things are going to kill me. I was at the gas station this morning getting breakfast (I eat gas-station chow because of Jack Lalane) and I saw those damn eggs sitting there. I bought four. It’s not even noon. There are none left. Last year, after Easter, I bought a box of these things (48), for half price. They didn’t last a week. Jesus wasn’t crucified.

He went into diabetic shock.

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