I almost shot the Easter Bunny yesterday and put him in my stew pot. A few carrots and taters, he would have made pretty good eatin'. 'Cept maybe he would be a little gamy. You can never get that wild taste out of rabbit, I don't care who you are.
I can't quite figure what made me so mad at the little bastard. I mean here was all the kids a opening up their baskets and tearing cellophane to beat the band, and they had video games, and cd's and DVD's, they had toys, and all kinds of candy. Big ole candy bars, too. Made me think about my Easter baskets when I was a wee tot. Full of boiled eggs, they were, and a few jelly beans that you had to hunt for under the fake grass. I mean, how many boiled eggs can a kid eat? How many do they want to eat?
When did Easter turn into Christmas II, is what I want to know. We didn't go to church before dawn, and stand outside in the dewy morning, waiting for the sun to come up, either. We didn't have to troop back in the church and listen to the preacher man yap on for hours and hours, or so it seemed. Nobody snored cause they had to get up so early after tasting Grandma's whiskey the night before.
What happened to the Easter Bunny? He has turned from a cute little bunny hopping around the bunny trail to a pimp riding in a limo, smoking a big cigar.
Its a shame. Its a damn shame.