The Unholy Passover Haggadah 🍷

For the Slay-der that’s serving freedom, filth, and four glasses of Manischewitz.

Welcome, dear degenerates, you magnificent misfits, beloved guests, spiritual thrill-seekers, and cousins we only see once or twice a year but stalk on Instagram daily.

This is the unfiltered, irreverent, unholy, bat-shit crazy Passover seder supplement you didn’t know you needed but deeply deserve. To put it lightly, this isn’t your bubbie’s seder. Unless she has a double life and a flair for the dramatic, in which case, this is perfect for her.

Tonight we ask the ancient question:

“Why is this night different from all other nights?”

Well, my little matzah balls (Is it cool if I call u that?), tonight, we’re not just telling a story—we’re serving it. We’ll be spilling plague tea and reliving Exodus trauma.

So…what in Moses’ name are we doing tonight?

We’re doing what we do best: remembering miracles, honoring resistance, and getting spiritually shitfaced while consuming truly unholy quantities of matzah, aka the cracker that tastes like drywall and feels like a brick in your colon.

This year, we’re keeping the Seder unleavened, unfiltered, and undeniably unhinged.

So, let’s get weird, let’s get free(ky), and let’s get some wine and constipating carbs in us.

Strap in, shall we? It’s gonna be a bumpy chariot ride.

🕯️ Candle Lighting

We begin this journey by lighting the candles. Not because it’s a cute Instagram aesthetic, although, we all love the mood lighting, but to set this Seder ablaze. Metaphorically. Please don’t burn the tablecloth.

🔥 TOGETHER:
May these flames light up our souls, warm our cold hearts, and burn through whatever bullshit the day dragged in, blazing a trail for truth and justice. Always. Amen.

🕯 Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, asher kiddishanu b'mitzvotav v’tzivanu lehadlik ner shel Yom Tov.

Translation: Blessed are you, Diva of the Universe who told us to get LIT in every sense of the word.

🎗️Prayer for the Hostages

Before we begin, let’s pause for a moment.

Because this year, like last year, hits different.

We’re not just time-traveling through Jewish history, we’re living it with our hearts cracked wide open.

Because while we lean back in freedom, 59 souls are still held captive in Gaza, robbed of their freedom, their families, their futures, and their basic human dignity. Last year’s Seder, 132 hostages were in Gaza. We will not truly feel free until the remaining 59 hostages are too.

They are not ancient symbols in a story. Their torment makes tonight’s message feel all the more real.

While we complain about matzah and how long the Seder lasts, our hostages are being starved in underground tunnels. Really puts things in perspective.

And look, I know this is supposed to be the “fun” Jewish holiday. But if we’re going to celebrate our liberation, we can’t do that if we ignore our people left behind in tortuous conditions. That’s not freedom. That’s narcissism in the face of terrorism. And that’s not ok.

So tonight, before we read Pharaoh for filth, let’s hold space—for every family whose table has an empty chair tonight. For the ache of not knowing, for the radical hope that they will come home.

Tonight, as we remember the Exodus from Egypt, we’re reminded that in every generation, there is someone who rises up to try and destroy us. And still, we’re here.

If we can make room for brisket, we can damn sure make room in our hearts for the hostages still waiting to be free.

May the One who brought us out of Egypt bring them out of darkness. Quickly and Safely. #FuckHamas forever and always. Amen.

***📚

Alright, let’s get into it.

Tonight we’re all storytellers. But, why this story again? Can’t we skip to the matzah balls?”

We don’t tell this story because we forgot it.

We tell it so we don’t forget it.

We tell it because some of us are still living it.

We tell it because each of us is a link in a chain that stretches across generations.

We tell it because tonight, we are one.

No other night of the year can the entire Jewish people be found sitting around the table reciting the same ancient story of the Exodus that we’ve told for 3,000 years. No point in breaking the tradition now.

🍽 Behold the Seder Plate: Your Jewish Charcuterie Board of Symbolism

Time for a little game of Show ‘n Tell.

As we begin our Seder, please direct your attention to the most trauma-laden sampler in history: the Seder Plate. It’s not just a collection of oddly specific items—it’s our people’s edible vision board, a symbolic platter of pain and power.

Let’s break it down:

🌿 Karpas (The Green Veggie aka the Salad of Sadness):

Parsley, or whatever green thing you grabbed from the fridge. Represents renewal. Dip in salt water. Cry a little.

🧂💧Salt Water:
Ancient tears. Liquid sorrow. Pretty straight-forward. You will feel the tears of your ancestors when you realize this is a 4-hour dinner with homework involved.

🥬 Maror (The Bitter Herb):
Horseradish so strong it could clear your sinuses, cure past-life trauma, and reignite generational pain and unprocessed grief. It’s here to make you feel something.

🦴 Roasted Shankbone (Zeroah):
Symbolizing the ghost of sacrifices past—a stand-in for the Paschal lamb whose blood marked our doorposts and spared us from the Angel of Death. Do not eat it.

🥚 Roasted Egg (Baytsah):
Symbol of rebirth, renewal, and the only thing on this plate that’s not a direct metaphor for generational trauma. Go off, egg. You’re doing amazing, sweetie.

🍎 Charoset:
Apple-walnut trauma paste symbolizing mortar. This shit fucking slaps.

🍊 Orange (Optional but Iconic):
A modern addition serving JUICY justice, representing those of us historically told we don’t belong. We’re talking gays, women, and anyone who’s ever had to fight for a seat at this table. You belong.

We don’t spit out the seeds—we plant them, bitch. This fruit is not here to be quiet. She is here to be seen, heard, zested, and celebrated.
Tonight we say: Yes Queen to Queer + Feminist Fruit. 🌈🍊

Cue that one cousin rolling their eyes in TRADITION.

🍷 Kiddush – First Glass of Wine

We begin where all sacred Jewish stories do: with some divine wine— or Kedem grape juice for the kidz and sober adults with enough sugar to make you blackout.

Time to fill your cup, babes. This is our first of four glasses tonight. Pace yourself.

We about to get turrnnntt.

Together we say:

Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech Ha'olam, borei p'ri hagafen.

Translation: Blessed are You, Lord of the Universe, who made this wine and gave us permission to get tipsy for spiritual reasons. Thank you, god for being that messy friend. We see you.

L’chaim, bitches. Sip responsibly.

🙏 Shehecheyanu

Now we pause to say the Shehecheyanu, Judaism’s ultimate catch-all prayer of gratitude. We say this whenever we do something new, seasonal, special, or mildly traumatizing.

Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, shehecheyanu v’kiyemanu v’higiyanu lazman hazeh.

Translation: Blessed are You, Infinite Source of Everything, for keeping us alive, sustained, and somehow here, doing this wild ancient thing together, again.

🧼Wash your hands, pandemic-style

We wash our hands to purify our hearts, removing the spiritual chametz as we prepare to partake in this sacred meal.

🌿 Karpas: Salt Water Dip aka Salad of Sadness

Okay, fam. Time for our first traumatic snack of the night.

Pick up that green thing on your plate—parsley, celery, kale, or that slightly wilted sprig you found in the back of your fridge. Hold it up.

We’re not just chomping salad here. We’re gonna dip that bitch in salt water—the salty tears of our ancestors. You know, the ones they cried while enslaved in Egypt for four centuries? This tiny ass salad is how we honor their pain.

Why are we doing this?

Because.

The green = renewal. The salt = ancestral tears.
Together, they taste like growth and generational trauma.

And this year, those tears taste even saltier.

Our tears carry the weight of 59 hostages still held in Gaza.

Their pain is not a metaphor. It is real. And we will not look away, even while others do.

Dip your parsley (or whatever sad green thing you have) into saltwater and enjoy your salty trauma snack.

🫓 Break the Middle Matzah

Alright, now grab that stack of matzah with the trauma of 3,000 years baked in.

Great, now take the middle piece, the emotional center of the matzah sandwich.

Snap that unleavened sadness in half.
One piece stays. One piece gets hidden.

Why? Because this is Judaism, baby. We don’t just talk about trauma, we wrap it in a fancy napkin and shove it behind the couch.

The Afikoman isn’t just a fun scavenger hunt.
It’s the symbol of everything that’s still broken—in the world and in ourselves.

Yes, this is a very deep holiday if you overthink it.

To those of you thinking, “Oh thank G-d, now we eat!”
Surprise, bitch—more prayers!

We are nowhere near done.

We got at least 40 more pages before we even touch a fork. We don’t even eat the matzah ‘til later.

📖 The Exodus

It’s story time, bitches. Get ready for the version of the Exodus they definitely didn’t teach you in Hebrew school.

Once upon a biblical fever dream, the Jews were enslaved in Egypt under Pharaoh—a mascara-wearing dictator with toxic straight-male energy and not one gay friend to say, “Babe, that’s a hate crime.”

Pharaoh was so paranoid about the growing Hebrew population that he commands every Hebrew baby boy be drowned in the Nile.

But one brave mama says, “Not my baby, bitch,” and sends her son down the river in a basket like a Whole Foods picnic. That baby was our man, Moses. Miraculously, he survives this shit.

Pharaoh’s own daughter finds him and decides to raise him. So Moses grows up in the palace, living large like an ancient Egyptian trust fund kid.

Fast forward: Moses grows up and sees an Egyptian beating the living shit out of a Hebrew slave. And Moses full on SNAPS. The Torah says:

"He looked this way and that, and seeing no one, he killed the Egyptian and hid him in the sand." — Exodus 2:12

Yup. Moses straight up KILLED a bitch. Buried the body. Like some CSI: Sinai Unit. Nobody talks about this part because it doesn’t fit the plush narrative, but your boy committed a felony.

The next day, Moses tries to break up a fight between two Hebrews and one of them’s like, “What, you gonna kill me too like you did that Egyptian?” And Moses is like, fuck, word got out. Full-on cancelled, he’s like I’m done with this shit, and fully books it into the desert. A full on fugitive wanted for murder.

So Moses flees to Midian, to start fresh. In the desert, he starts a new life, becomes a shepherd, and marries a woman named Zipporah

Then one day he’s minding his sheep business when he sees a bush on fire. Somehow this burning bush also channels the voice of God. And what does the bush say? “Moses, you’ve gotta go save your entire people.”

And Moses was like, “Me? I have a speech impediment and crippling imposter syndrome.”

And God was like, “PERFECT. You’re hired.”

So Moses heads back to Egypt, staff in hand and reunites with his long-lost brother, Aaron. It’s sweet, emotional, and probably super awkward like:

“Hey, I know I’ve been gone for like… 40 years. Wanna help me overthrow the government?”

Aaron becomes Moses’ wing man because Moses still isn’t totally confident with public speaking. So they tag-team this whole operation:

• Moses talks to God.

• God tells Moses what to say.

• Moses tells Aaron.

• Aaron tells Pharaoh.

“Let my people go.™”

And Pharaoh is like:

“Lol no. And also? I’m making the slaves work even harder now because you asked.”

The people are not thrilled. Like, “Oh, Moses is back and suddenly everything sucks MORE? Love that for us.”

🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍

But Moses and Aaron keep going. God tells them to throw down miracles and plagues like they’re auditioning for America’s Got Divine Talent.

First trick: Aaron throws his staff on the ground and it becomes a snake. Pharaoh’s like, “We’ve got magicians too, bitch,” and his dudes do the same thing. But plot twist: Aaron’s snake swallows theirs whole. Because God came to slay, not to play.

Moses told Pharaoh to “let my people go,” and Pharaoh had a whole hissy fit. Classic drama queen.

So God says: it’s plague o’clock, bitch and went full death-metal on Egypt—ten plagues, frogs, hail, blood, the whole kabob.

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

After the tenth plague kills every Egyptian firstborn, Pharaoh finally says, “Fine, LEAVE.” And the Israelites bounce so fast they don’t even wait for their bread to rise. Thus, matzah, the bread of affliction and constipation was born.

Our guy Moses didn’t just leave Egypt. He turned his escape plan into a whole disaster movie and left no crumbs. Well, except for the trail of matzah.

But then literally like two minutes later, Pharaoh changes his mind and chases after the Jews, realizing he just let all his free labor walk out the door.

So he grabs his army, hops in his chariot, and chases them down.

At the edge of the Red Sea, things look bad. Pharaoh’s army is closing in and there’s nowhere to go. They’re fucked.

Or not.

Moses whips out his staff, lifts it in the sky and God splits the sea, creating a dry lane for Jews to hustle across to safety. Pharaoh’s army tries to follow, but the sea crashes back down and swallows them whole. Just like that, Pharaoh’s reign is over.

🎶💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻🎶

On the other side, Miriam grabs her timbrel and leads a full-on freedom rave. The people sing. They dance. And yes, according to legend, she may have twerked in the sand for God.

And just like that—a people is reborn.

But, the celebration doesn’t last long. After just surviving slavery and their own annihilation, they immediately start complaining that there’s no food and shit. 🍽️😩

So God invents this thing called Manna which is like magical food that falls from the sky. ✨🍞☁️

But these people could not stop kvetching. “There’s no water!” 💧🤬

So god’s like:

“MOSES, speak to the rock and water will come out.” 🪨💦

But Moses is so done with their drama that he hits the rock instead.
Water gushes out, but God’s like:

“Really, dude? After everything, you had to go rogue?”
And just like that, Moses is banned from entering the Promised Land. 🚫🇮🇱

Yes. One outburst and he’s OUT.

Meanwhile, God calls Moses up to Mount Sinai to recieve the Ten Commandments.

📜🌩️

But while Moses is on the mountain, the people are down below making a golden calf. 🐄✨

Moses comes down, sees the idol orgy, and completely loses it.
He SMASHES the stone tablets. 📜💥📜

And God’s like:

“You had ONE job.”

So Moses goes back up the mountain, gets a second copy. 📜📜✅

But the people keep whining. So God finally says:

“Y’all need a long timeout.”

So they wander the desert for 40 years until that generation dies out.

Only their kids and a couple of standouts like Joshua and Caleb get to enter the Promised Land.

***

Whew. That was… a lot. And no, we’re still not eating yet