Big-Ass Sunday +PLUS+ Monday Man-crush!


The Story of Big-Ass Sunday ~

Big-Ass Sunday commemorates the time about 140 years ago when the Easter Bunny rode into Jerusalem on his Big Ass.

But … there’s trouble a-lucky-foot!

Judas, incensed that EB gave all the Cadbury eggs to John-Boy The Big Squeeze, sold EB’s big ass to the Romans in exchange for a lifetime supply of Laura Secord “Turtles”.

Of course, once he gets what he wants, he’s sorry, ain’t it just like a man, and dies in agony after ingesting his first delivery in one go and being cut to ribbons inside by the sharp edges of all the nuts.  I’m sure at least some of you know what that’s like.

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The Easter Bunny rides into town on his Big Ass.

But every cloud has a 30-pieces-of-silver lining.

On the plus side, thanks to cranky-pants Judas and Big-Ass Sunday, we have Bach’s sublime “Big-Ass Mass in B minor” and the lesser know but still fairly exquisite “A Passion for Peter”.

On the minus side, it must be said, we have the disquieting spectacle of Judy Garland, the little hunchback, the original, perviest sketched-out meth head, and Fred Astaire, who was born a few centuries before her, already looking ninety and smelling like an old biscuit tin, as they flaunt their eww-making May-December hook up by Easter Parading up Fifth Avenue; and then, even minus-er, if  that were possible, we have about two trillion biblical epics, all starring Yvonne de Carlo and Tony Curtis.  And just try telling them apart!

Dame Janet, in the authentic performance version of
Dame Janet, in the authentic performance version of “MessiAss”, tossing off her bravura right before tossing off Lenny.

Ah, but ever back to the plus side, there’s that taken-out-of-mothballs-yet-again yearly delight, Handel’s ever-enduring and barely-endured chestnut, “Messi Ass”; and whether it be in the authentic-as-oatmeal performance version, or the down ‘n dirty “Sing-along-a-MessiAss”, which ruins for good those five minutes you used to almost like, it is always immensely popular with everyone from the cleaning staff at the Royal Albert Hall all the way up to, it is rumored, the current descendant of the monarch who heard the first performance (and who initiated the obnoxiously pompous practice of standing up for the Hallelujah chorus, which continues to this day, except for me).

Ah, yes.  Handel’s “MessiAss”!  Who can ever forget Dame Janet Baker, resplendent in her Marks and Spencer day gown, tossing off the quite unnecessarily convoluted coloratura, with its demanding tessitura, and all just to show her bravura!  (And after the show, it is rumored, tossing off Lenny B for good measure!).

No one summed it up better than the Times critic, who noted:  “Dame Janet sang as though trying to control a fart.”

Monday Man Crush:

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My Monday Man Crush and My Hero: John Fugelsang. Until something better comes along.

Today’s lucky recipient is John Fugelsang.  (Well, I’m very sorry, John, but it’s the Internet and you knew what you were getting into. OK? And don’t call me “dude”.)

This dishy dad, hitherto unknown and uncrushed by me, is now the recipient, at least until something better comes along, of my (seriously) undying admiration for his stands on such issues as peer violence:

See his YouTube video “Stop Calling it Bullying”

and he does a mean line in pithy put-downs that call out the hypocrisy of both church AND state.

John Fugelsang, like?!  You are so awesome?!  And you are my Monday Man Crush !?!

 

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