It’s Easter. And there is no fucking football in sight.
Boxing Day football canned.
Easter football canned.
It’s political correctness gone mad.
I blame Jesus
We went to church on Palm Sunday (my wife’s in to religion and I can tolerate the be-nice-to-people here-have-tea-and-biscuits variety).
The vicar there was doing some kind of Jesus reenactment thing and got one half of the church shouting “hosanna!” And the other half “crucify” and “Jesus” walked down the aisle. We were on the crucify side. Anyway my little boy misheard and started shouting “goose-ify”.
At first I thought “ha, kids are thick” but then started thinking about it. If Jesus was turned in to a goose, that would explain all the chocolate eggs a lot better than a bunny shitting them out whilst zombie Jesus walked the land, which I’ve always thought was a bit far fetched.
Anyway, that’s become part of my new belief system along with god being a giant platypus that we praise every other Sunday (different boy’s accidental interpretation of a hymn)