Chocolate Jesus

Blog #2. Keepin' on with the meth addiction.

You know what I've never quite understood? Easter.

Yes, I fully comprehend that Easter is a religious holiday that celebrates the return of Jesus and whatnot. Now, taking that into consideration, allow me to ask you something, you bright and lovely spectateur/trice:

What the fuck does that have to do with giant white rabbits and ovum-esque chocolate?

I'm sure if I went on a google binge, I could discover this answer for myself, but where's the fun in that? Ignorance is bliss. And so, in this everlasting state of uneducated euphoria, I will continue to assume that every religious person EVER is a zombie lover. Jesus is technically a zombie, is he not? He comes back from the dead. He encourages zombification by urging others to consume his body and his blood. Now, if George A. Romero and Resident Evil games have taught me anything, it's that if you get bitten/scratched by a zombie, you become one. I'm not entirely sure if it works the other way around, but seeing as I'm on an assumption bender, I'm going to assume that it works that way. Jesus wants to recruit you for his zombie army! Resist! Resist!

Back to the eggs, though. I'm not going to petition chocolate companies and demand that Mr. Munchy be taken off the low priced shelves of Wal-Marts nationwide, but I'd like to know where they get off making me fat for the sake of an undead saviour (zombie food?). And I'd also like to know where they get off. XXX Shop? Bathroom? Holla at yo' grrl.

By-the-by ladies and gents, Cadbury mini eggs with the added magic of poprocks FTW. Try them. I guarantee you, it's like a party in your mouth....and everyone's invited.