Smack dab in the middle of Holy Week, a few days into Passover, and just a hop, skip, and a jump away from all those God fearing souls getting to once again openly partake in the lovely, tasty, and intoxicating things that they’ve been lying about abstaining from for the past 40 days. What a perfect time for some more ramblings from the religious correspondents desk, eh? My thoughts exactly.
Seriously though, Lent is like the half retarded offspring of New Year’s resolutions and rehab after a 7 minute teenage closet romp, think about it; it comes with twice the guilt ramifications if you can’t follow through and take care of it, or like forget it at the mall or something. But fear not ye Sunday morning sodomites, lent is not on the chopping block, this week I will be focusing on your Hebrew brethren.
Given that grizzly beards and a proficiency with numeros are not inherent traits to the men of my family, I had to do some digging to find out what this Passover thing is really about. Let me tell ya, its a pretty wacky party. Apparently, a couple years back a little dude named Moses, yep, that guy, got tired of scrapping sand out of his crack while being whipped a top a pyramid and decided to do something about it.
But given his passive aggressive nature, clearly depicted here, he thought it best to just walk it off rather than throw down with an early member of what is now known as the Mossad. So he rounds up his crew, lights up a fatty and goes for a little stroll round the block to cool down. However, a mixture of short term memory loss and a powerful lust for camel’s milk causes Moses to lead his buddies on a little detour into the dessert, where they spend the next 40 years wandering around. Effectively carving in stone the rule that has been passed down through the ages; you never leave the high dude in charge of the directions. Thanks chief, now we know.
Obviously Moses needs to be celebrated for his blunderous discovery that has saved the future generations hours of aimless driving around. Well, except those two jokers in the movie who refused to just order a damn happy meal at the nearest drive through. Must not have heard this story growing up, though if memory serves they were neighbors with a couple of pot heads with ‘stein’ in their last names, thought they may have mentioned it. Nevertheless, I think I’m going to far surpass my allowed limit for stereotypes in this one, so we’ll leave trying to rationalize the chaotic decision making that comes from Asians getting behind the wheel to the professionals.
Ha, good stuff. Back to the man of the hour. How does one properly celebrate this monumental hero who buckled up and doubled the amount of coarse fragments between his cheeks for the good of us all? Most would be calling for strippers and cocaine, but no way Bubba, no amount of white girl, powdered or popping naked out of a cake, can hold a candle to what these party animals got going on.
They kick er off in the same fashion as any good bender, with a big meal; or ‘Seder’ as it is known in the Kingdom of Judah. However, the meal is prepared in a way to commiserate their ancestors who followed Stoner Jew out into the desert not knowing they would be walking for 40 years. Most of them wore through their sandals within the first week, and because of this the Jewish children are served the soles from last years back to school shoes, aka ‘Matzah’ as a way of paying homage.
Even Obama was enjoying chowin down on his old basketball sneaker earlier this week in Israel.
From there its seven more days of none stop orgy like craziness. They got pyrotechnics, sing a longs, trivia games, endurance contests, and enough distilled wheat liquor and wine to drown Ireland.
Anyone else ready to convert?
Your unofficial religious correspondent,