So April Fools' day is right after Easter this year. Hmm. "Ha ha, just kidding! He didn't resurrect, we hid his corpse in Judas' laundry basket! APRIL FOOLS!"

Yesterday was the best fucking Easter I ever had.

No family gathering. No reaching into the depths of my closet to pull out tight-fitting clothes that I didn't want to wear in the first place. No sayings of grace from guilt-filled pseudo-Catholics over a highly non-kosher meal. No forced church services in a room crowded with other pseudo-Catholics who go to mass twice a year. No baskets of shredded green celophane clumps and stale discount candy. No nuns. No forced greetings. No hearing my brother self-righteously bitch to me about how he doesn't like who I am and what I do. No malls with lines screaming kids. And no spending a whole day in my parents' house.

It was a wild weekend that included a Sunday of sleeping late, sex, sitting in a bed with my arm around a naked somebody, watching my favorite DVDs together with her (George Carlin, The Residents, "Next Stop Wonderland"...), a thick pastrami sandwhich and rickey drink at a Jewish deli for a Sunday lunch, and going back to her place for more sex.

It sure beats a stale box of marshmallow Peeps®.

I will finish this entry with one of my favorite Easter jokes:

Q: Why does the Easter Bunny hide the eggs?
A: He doesn't want anybody to know he's been fucking the chickens.