That (Good) Friday Feeling

It's technically Good Friday as I write this, but not really because I haven't gone to bed yet. Once I do and then get up again it will be, though.

Good Friday was the day when Jesus fell out with all his mates so just went off and got hammered. I always remember it as being one of the most miserable days of the year when I was growing up, thanks to my miserable Catholic upbringing which prevented me from eating meat for a day (I always had cravings for a sausage roll - Sod's law) and so we always got given a miserable Cheese Pie (occasionally known as 'quiche', or even 'keesh' in some districts) for tea. Misery is a recurring feature here, by the way. Then there's the hideously drawn-out Good Friday service at church, which they plonk right in the middle of the day so you can't do anything else, and where they pick the bit of the gospel about Jesus getting hammered but make it extra-long for one weekend only. Joy! Never mind though; however bad Good Friday might have been for me down the years, it was even worse for Jesus. Repent!

Just reminiscing, don't mind me.