My favorite holiday/ gathering of
all time is Rosh Hashanah. One thing
most people don’t know about me is that I am Jewish. Every year, my grandparents come over with
their yamakas they bought on Judaica.com and dance to accordion music. Then my
three rabbis and my uncle, who is also a minister and the prophet of
Consocratacy, comes over for our dinner of not steak. We then journey to Mecca, which is called the
Hajj in my native language. Once we make
it to Mecca, we build a holy fire of the Earth Mother and dance about it while
beating drums and singing to the moon.
Then we make crosses and strap them to our backs, and walk all the way
to Vatican City, where we kiss the Pope’s hand and cannonball in holy
water. That is the first day of Rosh
Hashanah.
On the
second day of Rosh Hashanah, we spend the whole day trying to achieve
nirvana. We listen to all their songs,
and praise Vishnu and Shiva, the gods of telemarketing. My uncle sits cross legged for hours straight
under a peach tree. Even though this day
is really fun, I personally don’t enjoy it as much as day three.
On the
third day, we dig a huge pit and make a ceremonial fire. We select the youngest person in our
neighbors’ family and sacrifice them to Quetzalcoatl. Then we open presents. Depending on the zodiac symbols in the stars
the night before, we either receive a card, a car, a cart, a carp, or
Carl. If we receive Carl, we usually
burn him as a sacrifice.
Rosh
Hashanah is a great way to get together with your family. When it’s over, it’s usually very
disappointing. The only thing to do then
is plan our neighbor’s funeral, make next year’s Gift List, and reminisce on
the great times we had.
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