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'cause i've already eaten both of mine. i ate most of the first one on monday..
a week ago...
I had that a few days ago...
I guess any point over Easter weekend?
i haven't done this "easter" thing for about three years.
I had some of one that my mate won in a raffle. About of 8 of us entered. We're all friends. It was a no-lose situation.
To mark Jesus' transformation from 30 something Jew to chocolate egg.
that's why i like to say, "you can always count on thewarn."
also, does anyone still follow the tradition of rolling boiled eggs down a hill or is all about the chocolate now?
I know the answer to this already.
we don't have hills.
on a road?
i'm not sure i'd be allowed, it might smudge them
you are clearly missing out.
yeah the whole rolling-an-egg to represent the rock that covered the cave that jesus was left in after he dyed, I am oh-so-knowledgable about religion....
I was wondering where that came from...
other people should know better than me, I'm an ignorant atheist!
You paint all the eggs so they're pretty, and then you roll them. It's the best part of easter.
who has no memory of rolling eggs?
So the traditions was just rolling eggs down a hill....!?
eats one of my eggs before easter sunday, i personally kill an angel.
my name to José, then.
N the other one is looking mighty tastey, surley any point over the easter weekend? I mean it is JUST chocoalte and since when did chocolate have anything to do with jesus? Last time i looked he was allergic to nuts and seeing most eggs may contain traces of nuts...
If not, then why do you give a fuck?
i'm just curious, as i said i don't really do this whole easter thing..
and the weekend, but thats all
at half ten last night that she was returning to london the following morning. Now every single year without fail from the age of seven, I have singlehandedly[?] bought and arranged our easter breakfast. Easter Breakfast is an art form, it shouldn't be touched. Just admired. So anyway, I had to use my broken bike to get down to the one remaining open shop. They don't have croissants. They don't have hot cross buns. They don't have flowers. So I'm practically pleading at this shop assistant, because I've never once failed with Easter Breakfast - For over 10 years it has been the most extravagent event in our family calendar. So I'm going crazy there - they have bread and that's basically it. And only own-brand bread, can you believe? And I'm trying desperately to think of what I can do, but he goes and gets the manager. And can you believe the manager asks me to leave. Which is stupid, because I would have bought the bread, and cereal and fruit, and I try telling him this and he just tells me to leave. That was annoying - but I think I'm drifting from the point, but you've got to understand the stressful build up I guess. So I have to get up at half five, go half way across town to get to the other shop as it opens. I rush back, it's about 6.40 [EB starts 8.00am prompt], start setting up, and I've left two bags. So it's back on the bike, which completely fucks up and I have to leave tied to a railing god knows where, hitchhike a lift which I would never ever do [think how dangerous it is]. I get there and they don't know where they are. Which is stupid, because I had to have left them at the tills, but it was about quarter past seven, and I'm running out of time, so I have to buy everything over again. Managed to get a list home from a friend, and it's about ten to eight. The tablecloth is on, food displayed, flowers are out, places set, eggs in position, perfect - less than a minute to go. Stressful? Yes. Nothing can go wrong.... THE FUCKING OVEN BLOWS UP, THERE'S FLAMES, I JUMP BACKWARDS, THE TABLE LEG DETATCHES ITSELF AND EVERYTHING ENDS UP ON THE FUCKING FLOOR.
I am still crying. Actually. Still. Crying.
I talk fast, you see.
Tragic is like losing a limb, or a child. This doesn't even compare, it's a soul-destroying, suicide-inducing post-tragic.
I would give u my buns n crossaints now cause that story is a real tear jerker
I can't really say anything that I didn't just tell you, but that's awful.
i got up and there was no milk to make breakfast and the shop was closed, truly gutted. i feel your pain.
That's that's that's just completely fucking different. I mean, you don't say to a woman who's husband has just died "I know how you feel, my fish died last Thursday".
That's just nothing like this at all. You know that. I know you know that. Still. Nothing. Similar. Don't. Relate. Pathetic. Stories. To. My. PAIN.
Im pretty sure thats where it got horrible, it happend to me when i prepared girlfriend a nice meal for her bday only for one of her brothers to drunkildy stumble into it and knock it all over..... it took hours to prepare