Life: Going To Good Saturday Mass

Ahh yes... the joyful sounds of a congregation in unity with its God... quite a joyous event indeed, unless you are in what I would call a irritable disposition. Or as others would say, in a "bitch mood". And so at 7:30PM, I dolled myself all up to go join other unfortunate souls that would have to endure 3 hours worth of this. Anyhow, I'm not a total Catholic-hater, even though I've been an official member of the Roman Catholic Church for 17 years now. I was a bad mood, and it just happens that tonight's mass is getting all the shit for it. First and foremost, I would like to say that it wasn't that bad. Actually, the whole celebration was all in all uneventful. Except:

1. The woman behind me shamelessly engaging in social farting, burping and noise disturbance. Kind of reminds me of this. Like, we're in a church, lady.

2. The Little Gremlin shouting "I WANT MY CANDLE BACK" out of his wits during what is supposed to be a special endearing moment with like a thousand lights shinning bright at the same time. If I'm not mistaken, the Papa Gremlin also proceeded in taking pictures of said Little Gremlin (a few times) during mass. Once more, has it not occurred to people that they are celebrating the Death and Resurrection of a guy who'd like a little respect? No? You rather Instagram that shit? Ok then...

3. The choir members who, during their solos, thought it best to abandon all notion of musicality and breath mid-sentence, or not hold a note properly, or just say "SCREW PITCH" altogether. Ok, I'm being picky but come one. If I can't enjoy my Gregorian chants the way they should be, maybe Jesus won't come the way he should either. Like, with a missing leg or eye. Or maybe he'll be so thrown off balance thinking, "Haven't I given them enough time to prepare for all this?!!?!?" that he'll just walk by the door. So yeah.

4. The standing and sitting and standing and sitting. I know I can't make up my mind sometimes, but you're a priest for God's sake! Isn't your job in life to meditate on such important matter,s capable of keeping the last remaining sheep on board with all this shit? Also, I don't want to turn this into a political debate but... when the priest starts mentioning compassion and love, my skin cringes, my hairline recedes a few meters, my teeth and nails fall out and I literally turn to dust. It's kinda like, "Yo Bro, don't rap 'bout som'thin you kno nothin' 'bout, you kno what I'm sayin'?" with the bad grammar and all.

5. The smell of incense. Which hihi sounds a lot like incest. But please, let's us not make references to inappropriate behavior while talking about such serious matters. God, the smell. I had debate all the while walking to church whether or not to grill a cig before the mass murder of my numerous neurons. Upon entering the house of God, I realized that there would have been no issues, since the place stank of smoke. At which point I cursed for all my careful planning had been in vain. I guess the priests we're going all out: drunk and high, all in one night. What would Papa God/Jesus/Holy Spirit say? But the greater question is, how could these people, having vowed a life of chastity and poverty and stuff, be living it up way better than me? One of the great mysteries of life I guess.

HIGHTLIGHT OF MY NIGHT: What could beat the Vietnamese priest's accent. Nothing. Exactly. Also, why couldn't the Pope be Vietnamese. That would of been totally badass.

All in all, not a bad mass. I was able to regroup at home, watching re-runs of Criminal Minds while eating Candbery eggs. So, all this to say

HAPPY EASTER/PASSOVER/LONG WEEKEND

(For those still interested in the good stuff aka Gregorian chants)