Papal in the Middle Has a Little Fiddle and a Flick of the Wrist with a Scientolotwist
The RC Church is having a Russell rebrand with a Scientolotwist. It’s a new Francis franchise with Pope Francis!
With his plucky Vati-can do attitude he’s the new man in the middle between you and God-our father who art in heaven, Hal be thy name. Hal-mighty god the father, and Hal-apeno is a spicy cunt. Hal punched the pilot to make his dewy decimal point that even the Lois common denomination can enjoy communal communion showers. And Francis is his master’s son, Hallelujah!
But Pope Francis didn’t learn all his tricks from the Bible. It was prophesised by the prophet of the skies with his proper eyes who proper sized up the situation: Old L. Ron Hubbard who lived in a cupboard with Tom Cruise who lives in the closet. Ron is a professor of fictitious facts, novelty novels, and science-faction: it’s science with a twist. Professing lessons about quitting the messing.
Pope Francyst with his infectious attitude is master of mass for the masses and of breaking bread. Jehovis bread, he is risen, he is wholemeal. He’s making psalm sandwiches with evangelical pickles and lettuce pray. He’s spreading a dash of male-cum in the middle of 2 slices of a John the Bap.
Though because of his gluttony for gluten, Pope Franny became addicted to the body of Christ. He got hooked on them wafers and developed type 2 Dianetics. He needed a prick of insulin to stop him being an insolent prick.
He became a communion wino, drinking prayer wine and bloody Marys. He got his crucifix every day to altar his state of mind.
I am incensed at his incessant insistence for intense incense for instance, just ask Vince the infant St. Vincent. He knew Francis back in his wilder days.
Back then Franny was stuck in his pad during a bad period of his life. He was a bleeding fool, insufflating incense and snorting lines of psalms. But he had no need for needles. He never injected because of the 3rd commandment: thou shalt not shoot thy lord’s name in veins. And there’s a stigma attached to having holes in your hands or your arms. But we all have our crosses to bear.
He took more stuff than anyone, bar nun. But as old Moe says, give him his dues. After the cops busted him for demonic possession, Fran saw the light. He had a revelation that it wasn’t the end and he said to himself “Armageddon outta here because I don’t want to miss a thing.”
He got off the Highway to Hell and started listening to Judas Priest and Black Sabbath. He realised that you can’t Hyde from the 70’s. You need the 12 steps for a Stairway to Heaven to save you from an excommunication break down. God would be proud. He’d be Eric Clapping for him.
In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Eamon. Eamon always gets the last word in but he can’t get it on target.