This morning I awoke at 6.30am.
I got up had some tea and toast, had a joint, indulged in some light self abuse and went to the 10.15am Mass!
This is where G-d had a little ironic chuckle at my expense and hit me with the instant Karma thing.
It wasn’t until I was well into ‘singing Hosanna to the King of Kings’ that I saw the little white dresses trundling up the centre of the church.
In my head, I did the slow motion, “NOOOOoooooooooo! Fuck Off!”.
It was too late, I was boxed in. Pillar one end, old dears with sticks and handbags the other.
I had to stay.
First Holy Communion.
Pet Catholic hate Number One!
The noise of kids was deafening.
I couldn’t hear the priest, he couldn’t hear himself and I could see him fiddling under his dress to turn up his mic.
I presume that was what he was doing, he got louder whatever he was up to.
I then realised I had unwittingly sat in ‘Tutters Row’, smack bang behind Church Nutter!
He is a rocker, a clapper and an own head slapper.
The Tutters tutted every scream, cry, giggle, hand clap, head slap and Shhh there was!
The joint kicked in, I got my grin on and started to enjoy myself.
I nearly burst when ’Head Slapper’ leant across the front of the woman next to him and started blowing gently into the air.
The lady, on her knees, started to do that shuffle thing, away from him, thinking that this was some kind of Loony Augustinian foreplay.
I thought it was quite sweet.
The sun had caught all the specks of dust in the air and he was blowing them away from himself and her.
I took communion.
This is the Priest I have an arrangement with, if he refuses me Communion in front of the whole church, I will punch him where he stands.
Seems fair to me. He lives with it.
Through all the bits I couldn’t hear, mainly due to the tutting and stick dropping, all I had in my head was this.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=cxS9qSU-25E
And as she says, “… Even sinners have a soul”.
I don’t know what made me go today.
Maybe I was the ‘proxy’ for an amazingly patient woman in the West of Ireland, who sometimes doesn’t make it because of her husband’s Alzheimer’s.
Somehow, I feel I earn her double points if I go.
Like offsetting your Carbon Footprint.
She gets the cynical, misanthropic, homosexual saying prayers, and she earns serious ‘Holy Miles’!
So, if you feel like offsetting your ‘Catholic Footprint’, have this one on me.
I also took the huge hint and said prayers for four kids, a Dad and a Mum.
Shalom
8 comments:
Another smiling gem from you..But your flowers..O me O my! Too beautifull, and the young bull..so new..
But the Damsel..who knew..
I enjoyed Sunday with the Blower. And pray with your footprint for those special ones.
Don't know why, but thought I'd post a Sharon Olds poem here:
The Pope's Penis
..By Sharon Olds
It hangs deep in his robes, a delicate
clapper at the center of a bell.
It moves when he moves, a ghostly fish in a
halo of silver sweaweed, the hair
swaying in the dark and the heat -- and at night
while his eyes sleep, it stands up
in praise of God.
Hope all of your digestive problems have passed.
A
Artemesia.. Nice to see you again!
Sharon Olds sounds like my kind of people!
Hehehehe!
I go away for a weekend and this is what you get up to...
Sassy.. Your cats drove me to it!
Goddamn it, this is why you should always go to Communion at 8.30, save the self abuse for later and savour it.
The 10.30 Family Service is when they always spring baptisms and such like on you and the truth is, the British are not genetically designed to think other people's kids are cute, we're just not. It's not our fault, it's just the way we are.
Schnee speaks great truth.
And I am now hesitant to ask the usual princess worshipping favour when I go to the Far East next month...You'll have taken holy orders by return if this is the behavioural trajectory they drive you to.
Schnee.. Thought I'd save the 8.30 for the once a month it is in Polish!
Sassy.. When you go East, I'll go Zen!
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