The Easter Story

     Easter 2001 has come and gone, and unfortunately, I have not yet told anyone the occurrences of that fateful Sunday.  I’m sure most people woke up early, looked for brightly colored eggs, went to church, maybe a brunch, and wore their new spring outfits.

     I did none of the above.  My day was much less cliched, and quite a bit more unusual.  I woke up around two in the afternoon, like usual, even though I had meant to get up earlier so I could get taken to lunch by my mom.  I overslept, so no free lunch.

     So I roll out of bed, and in order, piss, shower, brush my teeth, and get dressed.  Now I have a huge chunk of Easter Sunday left to kill.

     Well, if you know me, you know that the first thing I do after toilet matters are dealt with is sit on my couch and stare at the wall.  So I do this until…well, the sun went down.  Soon after, I realize that I have not sent my Easter cards yet!  Well, this simply cannot stand.  So out come the cards, my favorite pen, and the stamps.  Did you get one of my Easter cards?  Well, for those of you who didn’t, I will tell you that I do not send out ordinary cards.  Oh no.  I like to include little gifts.  Coupons, gum, whatever.  Something useful.

     Well, this year I decided to send something everybody loves.  I had one dozen cards to send, and I bought one dozen fluffy little baby chicks to send as well.  The plan was to make everyone’s Easter, or in this case post-Easter, as sunny and happy as possible.

     After writing the cards, I got the first little baby chick to stuff it in the envelope.  Well, I don’t know if you have ever tried to fit a chick in an envelope, but believe you me, it isn’t easy.  I barely got the envelope sealed, and then it was still all lumpy and moving.  The hammer fixed it, but there was an awful mess, and I had to use separate address labels because the ink got covered up with chick juice.

     After all dozen chicks were loaded into their parcels, I stood to take the cards to the post office.  This shouldn’t have been hard, but as I stood from my couch, my left eye fell from its socket and landed square on a soggy envelope.

    It took a few seconds for the realization of what had just happened to fully sink in.  When it hit me that my eye had fallen out, I expected to fell quite a bit of pain.  Oddly, there was nothing except for a mild tingling sensation in my eye socket.  Now I was truly freaked out.

     I decided this needed to be remedied.  I bent down to pick up my eye and pack it in ice, but when I bent over, I heard a loud crash come from my bedroom.  I was startled to say the least, and forgetting my eye for the moment, I ran into my room.  There was shattered glass, broken binds, and a ninja scattered across my bed.  I was scared as hell.  Blinds are expensive.

     I went back into the living room to get the ninja spray out of the closet.  Shit, my eye.  I’d forgotten about that.  I was walking towards it when the ninja came out of my room and jumped over my couch.

     Before I could even get my finger on the ninja spray, my eye leapt into the air and began beating the ever loving shit out of the ninja.  Don’t ask me to describe the scene, I can’t tell you much.  I don’t even know where my eyeball got that bat.

     So this battle goes on and on and on.  I ran out to mail the cards and return some videos, and when I got back, the ninja lay vanquished and my eye was smoking a roach I had left in the ashtray from the night before.  We rolled some more after that and got skizigh hizigh all evening.

     The moral of the story is never chew gumballs they give as prizes in cans of Comet bathroom cleanser.  All that stuff really happened, but the doctor said that when you chew those balls, your eye is 23% more likely to fall out, and ninjas are 64% more likely to crash in through your window.  How the eyeball fought or smoked weed even the doctor didn’t know.