The 15th Great Easter Bunny Hunt will commence this weekend in New Zealand. Teams of shooters will converge on the country’s rabbit population and an Easter bloodbath will ensue. Nothing says “Christ Has Risen” like animal extermination. I would love to participate in this event because I am fucked in the head. I know Jake is down.
For the Easter holiday my family convened at my aunt and uncles to dine on some cooked pig, play board games where the end result is global domination and hear my dad tell my brother-in-law to bite his ball sack at the dinner table. Speaking of pigs, my coworker is giving me a few pounds of fresh Polish sausage that her parents are sending her from Chicago. Her and her husband do not dig on the swine so they are giving it to me. I may boil that shit up and slap it on a bun with some sauerkraut and mustard. I may cut it up and throw it in with my scrambled eggs. I may even attempt to flatten it out into strips and fry it. Mmmmmm. Bacon Polish sausage.
I remember going to my local mall as a child, sitting on the Easter Bunny’s lap and receiving assorted chocolates but never bearing witness to an Easter Bunny beat down. If you are going to beat down the Easter Bunny, at least jump him on his smoke break out back by the mall dumpsters so as not to scar little kids standing in line.