HAPPY EASTER!

Shit, I'll go to mass if you can find me an appropriate looking church like in a decrepit strip mall or an abandoned trailer or something, lead by an ex-con, ex-junky, ex-marine maybe, turned failed artist, failed everything, yet still remains a lone searcher of all truth regardless of outcome who's not sealed shut inside that impossible, cowardly tomb called "religion". He must have at least two kids and an ex-wife that all hate him no matter how hard he tries to make amends. Oh, and he's gotta love Bob Dylan and John Prine. And along with the bible, he has to have read Celine and Bukowski and Carver and Henry Miller and John Fante and at least a little bit of Kerouac, ya know, because I know Kerouac can be tiresome once you get older and have lived a bit. He is kind of childish. And Crumb! He's gotta love Robert Crumb. Oh, and Louis C.K.! How can anyone not love Louis C.K.? So other than that, ya know, as long as he's humble and doesn't talk too loud and shit, I'll sit there and listen to the fucker. But I also get to drink.