I?m sitting here in the entryway of my Loch Lloyd manse, waiting for my driver to arrive. It?s the perfect time to begin this week?s column, preparing for church on Easter Sunday. I hope you won?t force me to explain why this day is holy ? sometimes you LGBT heathens are so curious to me. You?re all in a club of CEOs and multi-millionaires, but you?re clueless when it comes to faith. I doubt that any of you MBAs are holy enough to have developed stigmata, like me, and I only have a high-school education.
But enough of that. Jesus doesn?t care how educated you are; it?s all about how holy you act in public. That?s why you all are going to follow my adventures on the holiest day of the year, Easter. Now you will understand why God has pulled up an extra throne in heaven right next to his ? just for me.
I had my new cook, Nancy, pull out the linens for the sumptuous Easter Brunch I?m serving today. The tablecloth fringe is actually shredded little pieces of the Shroud of Turin that I had sliced off last time the Pope sent it out for laundering. And as much as I have those little foreign folks at the cleaners scrub and scrub, those darned stains will not come out ? no matter how much I yell.
Help is so hard to find. Nancy balked at having to slit the throat of the Easter lamb, but it?s Easter. You non-Christians would never understand. And brunch will be delicious this year, even though we won?t be having deviled eggs, despite Nancy?s suggestion. Why in heaven?s name anyone would eat something named after Satan?s reproductive system is beyond me.
And then there?s the fact that my cousin-in-law from Texas won?t be making it up this year. Cousin Thelma. Did you see the recent headlines about the woman whose buttocks grew to a toilet seat after she sat there for two years? Well, she has nothing on Thelma, who has been sitting on the toilet as long as I can remember ? at least since my childhood years. Although I love and honor family, as it says to do in the Bible, there are certain family members you wouldn?t poke with a stick as they lay in the gutter, and Thelma is one of them. Thank God she had an excuse not to attend this year. Last year, we wheeled her to the table on her ceramic chair and … well, we?ll just say it took two months to remove the smell from my dining room Persian carpet.
Speaking of smell, fecal humor is not something I like to discuss, so I?ll just lightly pass over the memories of St. Patrick?s Day in Kansas City. The smell of intoxication oozing from the pores of you all reminded me of Thelma. They say one picture is worth 1,000 words, so I?ll rest my delicate fingers and give you a couple thousand to view. Shameful!
I?m surprising my Easter brunch guests by taking them downtown to the Disney on Ice show (box seats, of course) at the new Sprint Center. How I love watching those adorable puppet-people glide along, attempting to not slash each other?s flesh with their sharp blades while peeking through those costume-head peepholes. How anyone can wear one of those costumes is a tribute to their stamina … but nothing compares to the folks they hire every year on the Plaza to wear those bunny suits. The Plaza tyrants hire homeless people to stand motionless on every corner for weeks upon end to entertain the tourists. I do believe that the publisher of Camp, John, went to the Plaza Easter Bunny Torture School just so he can taunt me.
But back to me and my Easter brunch surprise … it?s going to be an exciting time for my brunch guests: I?ve hired two Plaza Easter Bunnies to be a part of the spectacular Disney on Ice program. Look at the picture I took yesterday during rehearsal. Kansas City homeless people can keep up with professional Hollywood skaters, I?ll tell you! And they work for a quarter of the wage.
Oh, sinners, there?s my driver ? it?s time for my Single Christian Women Club?s monthly meeting. This month, we?re going to learn how to properly suck on chocolate bunny ears.
But now that you know how a real Christian celebrates Easter, remember it and practice it. Perhaps you?ll be holy enough to be invited to my brunch next year.
Francine offers her slightly skewed viewpoint on issues in the Kansas City metropolitan area?s LGBT community in each issue of Camp. This satirical column is meant in jest and non-thought-provoking fun! Francine?s opinions are her own, and they do not necessarily reflect those of Camp or anyone connected to Camp. And since you?re asking, yes, she?s a fictional character. Well, you asked. Would you like to respond to Francine or give her a tip on something that may be of interest? E-mail her at firstname.lastname@example.org.