There might have been something incongruent about listening to the brothers shtick on the way to Good Friday services, but it somehow seemed perfect when they relayed the story of a guy who got the Philly Phanatic to attend his Bar Mitzvah. For some reason dude in the costume popped off the head, revealing the smell of "Doritos, whiskey...and broken dreams."
I am not sure why, but for me this was the prefect preamble for three hours of reflection on injustice, betrayal, torture, death, sin and eternity.
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