" Hey, kids! Jesus here. No, really, don't take the piss. I am the Way. You know it. Now, I know what you're thinking. I am Jesus, after all. You're thinking: what's this Jesus fella doing blogging in Bedford? Am I right? Of course I'm right. I'm Jesus.
Well, I'm hear to spread the Word. And not just any old word, either. I'm talking The Word. On this very special day, I think it would be nice if we all sat around and thought about what Easter means, if we all took a couple of seconds out of our busy busy lives and thought a little bit about the message.
Yup. That's right.
It means Max Von Sydow on tv. It means some fussy old bugger in a dress complaining about football. It means the shops are all gonna be shut by half twelve, and double cab fare. It means it's gonna piss down all weekend. And, of course, there's the egg. That's gonna cost you an arm and a leg. Because you were too lazy to pick one up at Sainsbury's during the week, and the bastard who runs the corner shop can charge whatever he bloody-well wants for that last manky Simpsons egg, 'cause he knows, and you know, that the missus is gonna batter the crap out of you if you turn up this morning with the papers and forty fags and no chuffing egg. Seven fucking quid, man. I tell ya: she better like fucking Whispa, that's all I'm saying.
And are we all going to church? Fuck that shit. The Villa kick-off's at two, and I'm gonna want a few bevvies down me nanny-goat before that starts, ain't I? What am I? made of fucking time? I think not.
Anyhoos, I gotta chip. Judas has come in to a few extra bob, and we're all off down town to hang around outside Macky-D's for a bit, and look at girls.
Fuck, yeah, I love having two birthdays. "
Thankyou, Jeebus. Happy Easter, y'all.
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