Chapter 18 - Sunday, Bloody Sunday

Sunday, Bloody Sunday

Language level: lower-intermediate

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It is Sunday today. Boring. Concettina and her mother have taken little Salvatore to church. Concetta’s mother doesn’t know that I am not a Christian. For her, if you are not a Christian, then you are an Antichrist.

If you don’t go to church, it is because you are too busy sacrificing young virgins in the garden while dressed in black pyjamas with Marilyn Manson on the radio.
 What a disgusting idea! Black pyjamas! Who does she think I am? 
Today Conci’s mother was telling little Salvatore about Easter: “On Friday evening Jesus’ lifeless body was carried into a cave and then on the third day he came out of the cave and everybody was shocked.”
 To me, this sounded like a normal weekend for an Englishman.


I remember Easter well because I had no milk. You see, this is what I can’t tolerate about Christian holidays: they close the supermarkets!

Celebrate Jesus rising from the dead, celebrate him walking on water, but please leave the supermarket open!
 This Easter I got up early and nailed a formal letter of protest to the doors of the local Iper supermarket. 
“Dear Iper, I strongly suggest you employ only NON-Christians in future. In this way, when there are various Christian holidays, I can be happy for them, instead of sitting at home without any milk!”

He said...

After a few days the Iper manager replied:
 “Dear Mr. Antichrist, I am sorry, but our company policy prohibits us from  employing personnel who sacrifice local virgins in their gardens for reasons of hygiene. All I can do is suggest that you buy your milk before the holidays start, like the normal Antichrists do, or drink your coffee black.

Enclosed is a bill for the damage you caused to our doors with your nails. I’d also like to suggest that in future you use sticky tape to affix your protests. 
Sincerely, Iper manager who is going to heaven.”

I said...

So I replied:
 “My coffee isn’t the problem. It’s my cornflakes. I am English and so I have the normal amount of saliva glands. You are Italian, which means you can eat dry salami sandwiches without butter because you have three times as many saliva glands as we do. If there is no milk in the house, I have to suck my cornflakes individually, which is highly time-consuming. 
P.S. And where would I find a virgin around here?”

He said...

Then he replied: 
“Mr. Antichrist, If you had any friends you’d have nice chocolate eggs to suck on, but instead you spend your day alone, sucking cornflakes and writing stupid letters to me. If there is a virgin left in this town, I suspect it’s probably you. Now, please stop writing!”

I said...

My reply:
 “Dear Mr. Iper man, I have a son called Salvatore. Do you still think I’m a virgin?” 
He replied: “Oh yes, I forgot: say hello to Dave for me.”

One night in bed Concettina asked me a question: “What if God does exist? What will you say to him after you die?”
 I thought about this: “Well, first of all, if there is a God, it is a ‘she’ not a ‘he.’”
 “Why do you say that?” asked Conci. 
“Simple,” I said, “a man would NEVER have put the testicles on the outside!”
 Conci became angry: “What a stupid thing to say! Why are men so stupid?” 
“Easy,” I replied, “because God is a woman.”
 And I turned off the light.


boring - noioso.
Easter - Pasqua.     
lifeless - senza vita.
rising from the dead - che risorge.
nailed - ho inchiodato.
our company policy... personnel - la nostra politica aziendale ci impedisce di assumere personale...
bill - conto.
sticky tape - nastro adesivo.
heaven - paradiso.
saliva glands - ghiandole salivari.
I have to suck... time-consuming - devo succhiare i cornflakes uno per uno, il che mi fa perdere un sacco di tempo.

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