PETA Doesn’t Like My Recipe For Cooking The Easter Bunny

A number of years ago I wrote a post with my favorite recipe for cooking the Easter Bunny. For a time it was among the most highly trafficked pages in the blog and then things got a little bit ugly. First there were nasty emails about my posts on Santa.  They moved from there onto a discussion of why The Salvation Army Bell Ringer doesn’t like me and suggested that maybe I am cheap because I don’ t like Tip Jars.

They told me that I am rude, obnoxious and uncaring. I made a point to respond with a note that said that two out of three isn’t bad.

But old Jack has a thick skin and a hard head so I persevered and kept on blogging away. I didn’t let the turmoil or tumult stop me from banging out new posts. Never took my eye off of the prize, not even when I received a letter from the Bugs Bunny Rabbit Preservation Society stating that I had been deemed a menace to society and marked as public enemy number one. Do you really think I worry about wascally wabbits that probably can’t wead. No fear here, no sir. I figured that even if they did find me I would find a way out of it. I have been stuck in bigger pickles.

Not to mention that as a child of the ’70s I am well versed in various forms of self defense. For example, Mel the Chef on Alice always said that the best defense is a good offense. He also said “dingy” a lot and a number of other things. Not to mention that he never let that sassy server Flo get to him. She must have told him to “kiss her grits” a million times. Come to think of it that is something that might have caused old Mel to get into trouble. Certainly he couldn’t say such a thing to fellow workers or employees today.

Just imagine what would happen if he did that today. How embarrassing would it be to be deposed by an attorney in a sexual harrassment suit for telling someone to “kiss your grits” or to be berated on the stand for calling someone “dingy.” It might not be as upsetting as having Shirley from What’s Happening insult you, but that is a can of worms for a different day.

Today I am focused on the sad and sordid tale about what happened when PETA discovered my recipe for cooking The Easter Bunny.  It started with a nasty note that was written on letterhead that had pictures of dead chickens on it. They told me that what I had done was wrong and shameful. They said that it was terrible to take such a stand towards a helpless animal. I sent them a response saying that I didn’t understand why they weren’t working as advocates for the International Union of Easter Bunnies.  I asked them why they didn’t represent the poor rabbits who were forced to work in sweatshops painting eggs or those who were paid slave wages to deliver those eggs in baskets.

Apparently they don’t care about the workers in the animal world. They don’t care whether they receive a decent wage, have scheduled breaks or humane conditions. No sir, unless these animals are at risk of being eaten they don’t have a damn thing to say.

They don’t care if you have an award winning recipe for Easter Bunny. It doesn’t matter if the finest chefs in Europe cook it or if the chief of the Em Etib tribe in the Amazon spared your life because you cooked it for him. Nope, they will come after you with both barrels blazing and an army of attorneys paid for with donations from strung out Hollywood starlets. And though I am fearless and never give up a fight this is one that I had to walk away from.

I just didn’t have the cash to fight it. I haven’t ever been a successful sitcom/movie/rock star whose career has hit rock bottom and has consequently been forced to star in some cheesy reality television show. I am not an heir to a fortune. I grew up cooking and cleaning for myself so I couldn’t star in some silly show where I try to do simple jobs and make a fool of myself because I don’t know how to pump gas. Donald Trump won’t put me on the Celebrity Apprentice show and talk about what a great fan of mine he is. Although I really wish that he would so I could tell some silly stories about kites, kids and parents.

The point is that sadly I had to agree to remove my award winning recipe from my blog. Oh the shame of it all.

• Saved: Narishkeit