Right down Easter Bunny Lane!

I love this time of year. Full of fluffy bunnies, fuzzy chicks, tiny teacups full of sweetness and wuv.

But then there is a darker side, peeps:



Hells yes. Bealzebub himself could not have conjured up a scarier prospect, eh? It is as if all the mothers in the world squeezed a drop of soured breastmilk into a giant cauldron, added some spun sugar, a pair of baggy 'mom jeans', an episode or two of Sally Jesse Raphael and Everybody Loves Raymond and then poured it into this mould, this unholy crucible, fired in the bowels of Hades. And out came this sick shit.

Munch on THAT, y'all.

Peace be unto you.