Listen, Jesus died for our sins. God’s only son sacrificed himself yadda yadda yadda — you know the deal. Anyway, letting him die on the cross to absolve us of our misgivings only not to have any would kind of be a dick move, right? Of course it would; I’m glad we’re on the same page.
Our editorial staff, the pious, Easter and Christmas-celebrating Catholics we are, look forward each and every year to honoring the Lord and Savior at several cash buy-in — $20 minimum; we ain’t fucking around with any cheapskates — Texas Hold ‘Em tables, drinking the straw-yellow essence of His blood 16 glorious ounces at a time, and packing in, with His blessing, yet another plate of food drenched in butter. Now that these bastards have canceled most of the Catholic festivals, though, where is a good Christian supposed to express his love for the Almighty after cashing in big on the money wheel? Well, here are some suggestions we rounded up:
Your Buddy’s Place
In the current climate of uncertainty, a safe option for celebrating the glory of Big Hoss in Heaven there would be to go down the street to your buddy’s place.
A nice Hail Mary before you start the Mississippi Stud game will ensure He knows you’re thinking of Him when accusing the jabroni across the table of being a cheating son of a bitch. Get there early to land a seat next to the Kegerator and keep yourself lubricated with the wonderful life force of His truly. Let your emotions take over when that same cheating jag spoils your straight with a last-card flush and you’ll be sure to use the Lord’s name in all sorts of creative exclamatory ways.
Down at the VFW
God bless the troops, am I right? It only goes to reason then that watering holes in their dedication would serve as a great spot to show your unrequited commitment to the holy trinity, not to mention $2 drafts and 93 little bags of Hot Fries.
Feel like doing that little extra? Odds are good that there is a video poker machine in the back that pays out, so buck wild — in the name of God, obviously.
Church?
OK, this one is pretty stupid, but kid we have interning had baseball practice or some shit, so we’re left trying to defend this one.
God supposedly wants to relieve us of suffering, so not sure why He’d want us to sit around for an hour hearing the Father drone on about “Love Thy Kids” or whatever. You might be able to sneak in a little of the sauce to nip on between hymns and then once it’s done, there’s got to be a good Bloody Mary somewhere nearby. Bonus points, for He who carries us in our darkest hour, if you can get a few FanDuel bets in on your phone while pretending to be repenting.
That’s it, jags. Good luck on your poker game and keep a close eye on the wily chick with the dangling cigarette: them types usually got slippery fingers that occasionally throw a card from the bottom of the deck.
Oh, and God bless…we guess.
