Jesus Would Eat Meat Today

I plan to make dinner tonight.

On the menu is pasta with shrimp and knackwurst.

I’m no where near Catholic enough to give up meat today. First of all, I don’t know why it’s done, and secondly, I’m too poor to have sushi.

I plan to marinate the shrimp in basil, oregano and olive oil, sauté the wurst, yell at my girlfriend for being in the way, sauté the miscellany (bell pepper, mushrooms, onion, garlic [perhaps eggplant]), yell at the mushrooms, sear the shrimp quickly, and mix it all together along with the pasta so as to let it finish cooking with the shrimp. I’ll add butter and grate parmesan over it to bring it all together.

Why would God want me to give that up? Jesus and I are buds, he’d eat this with me, too, and we’d probably get drunk and fly around to bars or something afterward.

“frank,” he’d say, “that girl is checking you out. Go for it.”

“I can’t, Jesus, I have a girlfriend.”

“True, true. Be my wingman then.”

“Alright, Jesus,” and I would totally be Jesus’ wingman but he wouldn’t need one because he’s Jesus. “My friend can turn that into wine for you,” I’ll tell the two women.

“Uh, we’re drinking vodka,” one would say with an attitude.

“You don’t wanna talk to those bitches,” I’d tell Jesus.

For dessert we’ll probably have ice cream.