According to and old issue of the Papyrus Free Press, Bethlehem was but a small burg but as it grew, more and more retail stores moved in to meet the demands of the exploding population. Behemoth retailers from Sears, Roebuck and Nazareth to Moses Mart and the shopping center mall. As the first Christmas approached there were three wise men who wanted to buy gifts for a baby to be born wrapped in swaddling clothes as they had run out of Huggies. The first chance they had to shop was right after Thanksgiving in Thrace. It was called Black Friday! The baby in question was the son of an immigrant couple from Nazareth, where the band of the same name was from. They had crossed the border wall that had been built by Trumpius Pilate to prevent Babylon street gangs from coming into the country and sucking the drachma treasury dry with welfare benefits/ Joseph and Mary, the infants parents had fled from an area of drugs and crime seeking a better life where instead of drug houses, there would be 7/11’s open 24 hours a day…(if they are open 24 hours a day, why do they need doors?”) Christmas dinner for the young couple would include 7/11 corn dogs on stick and a bag of Doritos and small bottles of energy drinks and stale donuts that only the Roman police could eat. Next to find jobs. Joseph was a chainsaw artist who could carve statues of bears and totem poles, while Mary hoped to continue her profession as a yoga instructor and seance medium. When they arrived in town every Motel 666 was booked solid for the weekend which was the NASCAR chariot races at the nearby branch of the Appian Way 500 Speedway where Daedalus Earnhardt was the star attraction right after the Bethlehem Demolition Derby and the Wet T-Shirt Crucifixion Contests at the all new Hooters of Hollywood club. They did manage to find a crash pad at the downtown stables four star Centurian motel that included a Christian Continental breakfast, free Gladiator cable and Sermon on the Mount Wifi along with a fully stocked bar. The motel complex also offered a casino and show by the Mary Magdalene Rockettes and Frank “Philistine” Sinatra, Dean “Dead Sea” Martin, St. Sammy Davis VII Jr. and the rest of the Roman Rat Pack. Now it came to pass (I thought the phrase had the biblical panache right up there with “In the beginning”) the new born baby was about to be born and the three wise men received an Instagram announcing the birth so they decided to hit the nearby Mt. Sinai Mall .. unfortunately it was what was to become known as the First Alice’s Restaurant Black Friday Challenge. This after a day of eating the Traditional Thanksgiving Stuffed Condor and and numerous side dishes of other endangered species and an afternoon of Notre Dame Football and a phone call to Willie the Bookie to place small bet. The mall was packed. They were lined up outside ready for the doors to open at 8 AM according to the Stonehenge Atomic Clock. It was pandemonium side as patrons fought over bargain merchandise from camel saddles to home brew water into wine kits. Electronics was the big ticket item that the crowd fought over most. Big Screen Hi Def Tel Aviv Television sets, I Claudius I phones and remote control chariot slot cars. The toy of the season was nearly sold out..the Last Supper Action Figure Set and the Holy Barbie Playhouse with concubines and lepers. The Three Wise Men dove into the crowd with a fury, one of them kept saying Nyuk, nyuk. nyuk which was Babylonian for “Out of the way Bitch!” Fights broke out and fat mall security guards, former eunuchs were called in the quell the religious riot. They left the mall but managed to score some frankincence, gold and myrrh the scored at the Bath and Beauty Shop as well a pair of Air Jordan booties for the kid, an electric drill for Joseph and some lingerie for Mary from the Victoria’s Biblical Secrets store of teddies and garters. That night they followed a bright star in the sky that led them to Bethlehem and the stable….the star was so bright and brilliant… a voice that of God spake to themm not spoke mind you spake, “We’ll leave the light on for you!” The three wise men looked at one another..”Lets Avoid Black Friday next year.. We’ll shop online!”
Life Before Death: The Great Philosophical Quandry
Once we slam our metaphysical time machine into overdrive, the mental shrapnel of the “we are immortal grenade known as youth” becomes harmless and minor as the obvious perceptions of our collective experiences becomes a junkyard juxtaposition of random thoughts, feelings and questions. We can’t avoid aging similar to an old rusted truck in a weed and empty beer can trash strewn meadow. We now no longer wonder if the new girl in school got our note in homeroom and will she write back and what are my chances of sampling her naked down by the river. Nay! (No one uses that term anymore! Sad state of affairs I mean to tell ya!) Nay...now we balance our wandering wonder on more important affairs as our own sunset advances. The meaning of life….questions of eternity...God….life after death...In my case my wanderings of wonder don’t go that deep….nay (that word again) I get perplexed over more mundane musings. Why are there 10 hot dogs to a package, yet only eight buns? How many packs of each are needed to even the score? What is the difference between sex, lust, love? Is sadism or masochism more acceptable in a vanilla world? If there is bi-sexuality, is there tri-sexuality? Are nude tribal women photos in National Geographic magazines anthropological or pornography? Why does Bigfoot only appear before drunks without a camera? Did ancient mariners actually see mermaids or merely manatees and how many actually fucked one thinking it was Daryl Hannah with whiskers? These were merely wet dream visions conjured up by sweaty salty dog seamen of yore with a massive build up of seaman’s semen who wanted to fuck a manatee! I’m sorry, but have you ever seen a manatee? Confusing a bulky “sea cow” with whiskers that can weigh up to 1,000 pounds with paddle like flippers with Daryl Hannah tells me these guys spent a lot of time below deck with a bunk buddy and too much rum. I wonder what they saw when whales would breach spouting? This was pure orgasm I bet as they yelled with glee “Thar she blows!” Now wonder when they hit a port the first place they looked for was Madame Bovary’s Ovary Blowhole Bordello. Were the Mayans stoners? Did they really have a clue? Those madcap Mayans of mayhem predicted standing room only cataclysmic events for 2012 remember? Nothing happened, but then again how can a group of Mayans predict OUR end 900 years ago when they weren’t astute enough to see their own decline and collapse staring them in the face then? They also didn’t see Disco coming in the ‘70s. The Greeks and Romans had a plethora of Pan’s jammed into Pandora’s Box. Pan is the Greek mythological version of Richard Simmons, who is regarded as the clap hands, work with me people god of the woods who loved to cavort, sing, and dance, and play music. In today’s world of reality, fact vs. fiction we have Elton John. Screw fluting in the forest, you can foray in a piano bar. Speaking of Pandora’s box….I opened her box once...wow...I mistakenly thought she was a virgin. She thought I was a Satyr, one of those mythological magnificent beasts of half man and half horse. Our dig team has found evidence that a disgruntled band of ancient feminists made this up claiming that men were similar to a horse’s ass. Imhotep! The name alone not only conjures up fear but sounds like the name of a chain of Pancake Houses! This creation lumbers along at an astounding speed of one mile an hour and somehow catches its human prey that can clearly outrun it ..maybe the aerodynamics are all wrong...notice too...the mummy kills men only...an act of self hatred as a latent homosexual embarrassed by his feelings..a momma's boy gone berserk...who knows...I know I could outrun old rags in a flash. Frankenstein’s Monster...big lumberjack who plods along with electrodes resembling an electronic goiter and the clothes were purely a Salvation Army fashion statement and the massive Dr. Scholls platform shoes would have made a hit if only Frankie were a glitter rock star in the 70's and 80's..Bowie would have hired him as a back-up singer along with Klaus Nomi. Frank only killed those who were doing him harm..and did not kill women or little girls. He was the kindly weird uncle just released from the asylum that although sedated...”Children, don't bother uncle Frank...the meds may wear off and he'll have you sit on his lap while he bounces up and down...” Thankfully they created a Bride for him..sort of a flesh and blood inflatable doll that looked like an Courtney Love that stuck her finger in a socket before she got fingered in her own socket. I am doing more aged pondering to study jackalopes, horned rabbits and do they really go roaming in Wyoming or do they only exist in tourist trap souvenir shops? Big Foot, he is an American mythological beast. Or is he or she or it? Before bigfoot there was Sasquatch a Canadian forest beast, but it all began with Moses and the Jewish bigfoot, Yentl the Yehti who both arrived on a UFO landing in Loch Ness but were saved by a tribe of Celtic faeries who welcomed them to earth and intermarried with them after a good old fashioned alien “who’s your daddy” probe!
People In Heaven are Strange
I’ll explain, but first this is part 4 of a series I am writing after my early demise of cancer to explore and explain “the afterlife” I’ve been up here, well seems like an eternity now, or a long game of Monopoly that won’t end, but found out something that bears telling about the compost pile of people up here! I was walking around the other day and noticed space alien angels everywhere. It was a Star Trek convention gone mad! I was told by God himself, “Surely you don’t think this place is only for humans do you?” I know they are ‘illegal’ aliens and we tried building a wall to keep them out, but did you ever try to build a damned wall out of clouds? It sucks! Hindu, Buddhist, Druids and others all put in a spiritual blender, turned to puree’ and voila. A dogmatic milk shake. I thought Heaven was only for Christians I mentioned. “No”, God said, “not at all. Hindu food is fabulous for one thing as are Tacos by Tao, Zen Zucchini and the Confucian Ceaser Salad and a Buddha Burger goes well with a draft Druid beer.” I found out the diversity factor is what makes it work, God explained further. “Every Friday night is naked Twister night and watching a Catholic and a Jew in full Twister mode is more fun than yelling “INCOMING!” at the local Veterans Hospital or when I turned water into wine at a AA meeting! Now that was fun!” “Over there is Noah working repairing his Ark. Has to be seaworthy for his fishing trips. He put an inboard motor in that puppy and she’s off to the races. Oh look, it’s FDR in his wheelchair. Love the guy to death, he checks all the parking spots and makes sure all vehicles parked there have handicapped stickers.” I noticed Helen Keller walking around erratically. God’ voice took on different demeanor. “Thinks she is independent, but keeps walking in front of Amish buggies causing accidents. Hopefully she’ll become Jehovah Witness and ring doorbells for a living. I saw many people from history, even JFK who kept mumbling about a massive headache and Jimmy Hoffa trying to organize the angels into a union but kept disappearing every 10 minutes. All in all, this afterlife ain’t so bad. I was afraid of dying I have to admit, but now it was much ado about nothing or as we say in zen “No-THING”! Well, it’s dinner time now and gonna grab a bite to eat. Hope there’s some handicapped parking spots left.
St. Michael the Archangel and the Narc-Angels He'Brew Beer and Opium Dens of the Afterlife
After spending the first month after my death in the Inner City of Heaven I was summoned to “the Big Guys” recreation room and was amazed to see a He’brew Beer neon clock ticking timeless above the well stocked bar. It's the only brew they serve past the Pearly Gates There was a huge magnificent pool table with a solid gold cue ball. Even God likes to rack ‘em up after a hard day of dispensing forgiveness ans/or penance. There were 16 X 20 framed posters of Baywatch Babes including a full nude spread of Joan of Arc in a chain mail thong from. “Damned ‘free will’!” he grumbled. “Should never had done that serpent and apple schtick. Doubles my workload. Look, I called you here for a reason. Everyone who gets here has the choice of a job. You were a journalist down there so I want to know if you would like to work on the local newspaper?” Wow, a newspaper up here? He’s gotta be kidding, what the hell, I agreed to it. It’s called the Afterlife Enquirer and sold in supermarkets all across infinite heaven. God explained, “In heaven as in the worlds of terra firma there are drugs, only here there is no drug problem. In fact, they are more plentiful than Hindu pilgrims frolicking in the Ganges! I felt it’s the least I could do. Tonight you can hitch a ride with our drug force made up of Narc-angels to see if everybody is stone faced happy!” I jumped at the chance and within two hours the head Narc-Angel picked me up. Heaven it turns out is the local drug pusher paradise where priests prowl for souls, and nuns in habits became soul saving street walkers finding the lost as Holy Hookers, for the Holy Ghost. We pulled into a local Taco stand called Temptation Tacos and Blessed Burritos to meet some of the local drug King Pins. St. Jerry Garcia, The grateful dead who could raise the dead whether they wanted raising or not. (A prime example is that of Strom Thurmond, former senator who I always thought was a corpse! Even now in heaven they can’t convince him that he REALLY is dead now!) Stoners and Lucy in the Sky-high acid heads were everywhere in search of White Rabbits and cold hearted orbs in search of lost chords. I met two of the saints, St. Haight & St. Ashbury the Acid Duo panhandling for spare change to buy a kilo of some righteous Holy Mary Marijuana. Then there is St. Alice in Wonderland the patron saint of Magic Mushrooms. Now when when those hookah smoking caterpillars appear out of nowhere in the mental Skid Row dumpster fear not as St. Valium on St. Valiumtines day or St. Thorazine the thoroughbred of Kentucky Downs Downers when racing eight miles high uncontrollably on the Indy 500 Brickyard of bad trips. I saw Opium dens with tiny altars dedicated to St. Dorothy of Oz who was no stranger to fields of opium poppies. She was so loaded the night we met she saw flying fucking monkeys. Actually the flying monkeys weren’t fucking, but in her mind they could have been, or so she told us later after she came down, down, down. She was in purgatory for a long time after she died as she had that very day shoplifted a pair of ruby red slippers at The Emerald City Shopping Mall at Macy’s, then grabbing her passport she ended up on a yellow hashish brick road to Afghanistan thinking there was a wizard who could fix a talking tin man who was actually a rather large dildo she found. No wonder the Munchkins told her to hit the road. “Keep her away from the morphine and the kids!” Ah yes, morphine. Heaven can do much to keep the junkies satisfied thanks to the efforts of St. William Burroughs the patron saint for morphies. Hell, if anyone knows addiction it’s good old Willie. Let’s face it...he put Pharma Karma into pop goes the culture. Sex, was as free as the drug use here in the afterlife. Hookers galore! fear not, for ye are the angels of mercy...merci! Let’s face it ...when it comes to hookers...the Lord works in mysterious ways in our search for salvation...and satisfaction! Thanks to St. Condom!
Gate Crashing Heaven on Highway 61
I died of a combination drug overdose and too many chili dogs a week ago, my dogs birthday and his third anniversary with the poodle down the street. What I didn’t realize is once you die an elevator of enlightenment takes you to the Penthouse Suite, God, (May I call you God or just Mr. Entity?” He’s pretty much what I expected. Flowing robes by Brooks Brothers, custom sandals by Bartucci (not cheap!) and an ever present glowing aura that ebbed and flowed giving one the impression of a lava lamp doing an out of control lava lamp lap dance. He was the epitome of the Chairman of the Board. The CEO of confessions, the President of Penance, but mostly he appeared to be all business with secretary sitting nearby taking notes as he handed me a 6 page questionaire entitled, “Heaven or Not To Heaven” to decide my final fate….first class jet accommodations to an angelic version of Club Med, or a Greyhound bus ticket to dueling banjo Deliverance, Ohio! This was not my first attempt to crash the Pearly Gates. The first time was where I loaded up beer and two of my other dead friends into the trunk of a Desota where we would get in for the price of one, just as we did in the drive in movies back in the day after conning some adult to purchase our beer. God wasn’t buying it. He called over his head of security, St. Michael who brought along his trained salvation heat seeking sniffing K-9. We done got nailed to the metaphorical cross. I tried disguises, I went as Mother Teresa thinking, piece of holy cake! Wrong...I didn’t realize she had a dark side that included stealing medicine from orphans and pole dancing at Calcutta’s premier strip club. She also told dirty spiritual jokes in a comedy routine (“A Hindu and a Buddhist go into a bar”) and did lewd impressions of Yoda as Liberace. God finally asked me why I should be let in...this wasn’t Wodstock, it’s not a free concert! “Because I called your name many times in a form of prayer, “God!” I would yell piously!” He frowned and said “You got the words “damn it” at the end after “God”! Oh yeah, I forgot. God thought a moment and came up with a compromise. “If you can answer these three questions, you have a deal!” “What is the sound of one hand clapping?” (A spanking…..) “Why did the priests cross the road?” (To get to the altar boy on the other side) Other than Pope John Paul, name one other Polish Cardinal? (Stan Musial - St. Louis Cardinals) Norwegian Wood, Drift Wood, Natalie Wood Two of them have something in common. Which two and what do they have in common? (Drift wood and Natalie Wood….both tend to wash up on shore) “Which came first, God or man?” A lawyer! “You may pass the portals my son, but first pass the most holy mashed potatoes. Haven’t eaten all day! …”And one rule up here KEEP AWAY FROM St. Joan of Arc! She is horny and has a burning bush!” This is how I got past the bouncers at the Divine Disco where God said to Abraham, Kill Me a Son. Abe said “Where do you want this killing done? God said “Out on Highway 61…..
Vatican Rock & Roll Unearthed!!!!
We cracked the code! The Mike Marino Theological Illogical Research Laboratory financed an expedition expeditiously to expedite the search of the hidden Vatican Rock & Roll Vaults where for centuries, lying dormant, unknown, undiscovered were all the Master Recording Tapes of rock’s earliest hair bands and other artists including the Rolling Rosetta Stones, The Dave Clark 12 Apostles, and the Bethlehem Beatles featuring St. John, St. Paul, St. Minneapolis, St. George and the Dragons and St. Ringo Starr of Bethlehem. The rarest find was the original studio tapes of Virgin Mary Joplin’s first single album where she was backed by Judas Priest doing a kick ass version of “Mothers Little Helper” and the acoustic version of “Mother & Child Reunion” Thrill to the Bobby Darin of baptism, St. John the Baptist surrounded by the Mary Magdalene Vegas Showgirls doing “Splish, Splash I’m Taking A Baptismal Bath” Relive the Nifty B.C. days and tap your feet to Jan, Dean & Lazarus’ revved up version of “Deadman’s Curve” How can we forget Moses and Young Rascals rendition of “Let My Village People Go!” or Cyndi “Last Supper” Lauper’s “Girls Just Wanna Have Miracles & Fun!” The King? Elvis? Yes...rare recording of “Hunka, Hunka, Burning Bush” inspired by his affair with St. Ann Margaret. Got Zep? You Betcha!!! Led Zepholine!! “Stairway To Heaven” both the Nazarene A.M. Before Christ Version and the extended Resurrection Anno Domini Mix are included in this most Catholic of compilations. Want to relive those madcap years of protest? Who can forget the floods, plagues, locusts and famine. Yes, early bootleg recordings of St. Bob “Damascus” Dylanious have also been discovered. You’ll wax and wane poetically and sing along as the lilting voice of St. Bob warbles “Spirit in the Sky” and “The Adam and Eve of Destruction” Noah Wilson and the Beach Boys blast off with “Surfin’ The Dead Sea” “Pyramid City” (where there are two slaves for every Egyptian), “Help Me, Harlots,” “Little 409 Chariot,” “Barbara Babylon Ann ” (ba ba ba Babylon...ba ba ba Babylon) Get stoned and laid back with the psychedelic sounds of the Jericho Airplane recorded live in Sodom and Ashbury at the Philistine Fillmore with St. Grace of Slick belting out “White Rabbit Superstar” and “The Acid Induced Technicolor Coat” These golden oldies will be available soon on Crucifixion Lane Records and Tapes...as a Bonus...if you act now we’ll also throw in the only known recording by Leon Russell and J. C. himself rocking away with “Roll Away the Stone!” Order Now! If you don’t it will be your cross to bear!!
Jesus was a Punk Rocker and the Rock & Roll Nativity
It came upon a midnight clear or so the story goes about the miracle of Christmas Eve, but the reality is far from what we learned in church. Time to set the record straight once and for all. The Mike Marino Investigative News team recently uncovered the Grateful Dead Sea Scrolls that tell a tale that sheds some light on what really happened that fateful night at the Bethlehem Fillmore Hard Rock Cafe Auditorium. There was a pregnant woman folk singer named Mary who wasn’t sure if it was Peter or Paul who impregnated her that weekend while drunk on canned heat at the Folk Festival in Newport. Not wanting to break up the trio she pointed the accusing finger at an itinerant singer who was also her second cousin, Joseph of Cocker. He claimed he wanted to be a carpenter if only he had a hammer, but instead ended up doing fabulous Karen Carpenter impersonations in drag as the opening act for Nazareth concerts. Joe was staying at the Morrison Hotel when King Herod Hendrix put a bounty on the heads of all who were not experienced. This all happened before the Book of Genesis was written by St. Phil Collins who told the story of the Garden of Eden where Adam Ant was a fan of the notorious Eve of Destruction, a local Eden stripper who used snakes and apples in her act. She was a wild woman who could raise caine when she was able and sober. Meanwhile...back in Bethlehem….it was a dark damp night encased in a foghat of purple haze with danger lurking behind every burning bush. The back alley’s of Bethlehem were teeming with danger and hookers dressed for a slow ride, take it easy, as they worked the parking lot of the donkey taxi cab stands at the Brownsville Station looking to turn a cheap trick for a few drachmas asking the rich on teh make chariot drivers who cruised by checking them out, “Don’t you want somebody to love?” The local pagans acted as their pimps. They belonged to a statue worshipping cult of Billy Idol’s who didn’t fear the reaper. Mary, pregnant with her child, who would be named Jesus Geils, or simply J. Geils, arrived in town with Joseph of Cocker looking for lodging. One landlord said to them, “You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you’ll get what you need” Well, that sucks, she thought. When it was time to give birth she pushed and pushed to eject the baby from her womb but to no avail. Joseph of Cocker said, “Maybe you’re pushing too hard!” a line later used as a battle cry when old Britain was at war where the Norman’s of Greenbaum battled for supremacy against the Sky Saxons. They searched the town for lodging, but the donkey was in no hurry and the night became a slow ride until the came to a small stable where the young lambs and other livestock were housed. The stable, Hay Judes was perfect. They settled into the stall and waited for the appearance of the wise men from Liverpool. That Night a star shone bright in the sky as the Sgt. Pepper Wise Men rode bearing gifts of golden earrings, a box of rolling stones and a tambourine man. Others came to see the birth of the baby. Ziggy the Pharisee brought a basket of stardust and two trained spiders from Mars, as Lou who was hiding in the reeds decided to take a walk on the wild side of Bible Boulevard to see if any of the sugar punk fairies were giving anything away for free from FLA. at the go go go Gethsemane Club Apollo. The party was in full swing. While the little drummer boy, Ginger of Baker kept the beat on the kit, there was a huge round of cheers and applause for breast feeding, placenta platitudes and afterbirth as cigars were passed around until the elite corp of Roman soldiers, called easily enough, the Roman Ramones appeared sporting black leather wings singing the praises of the newborn child... a song we sing today as our voices join in unity on the season his birth…..Joy to the World, It Came Upon a Midnight Clear and of course my favorite….. Jesus Was a Punk Rocker…….
Kiss My Ash Wednesday
As a recovering Cathoholic it appears the Lenten Season is upon us...in other words the opening act for Easter. All preceded by Ash Wednesday. Ash Wednesday by the way has come and gone as of Valentine’s Day last month. So, Ladies and Gentlemen...start your engines and get ready for the the start of a 46 day NASCAR period of penitence and as Easter Sunday looms on the horizon. Welcome to Lent! Catholics are not permitted to eat meat on Ash Wednesday or on any Friday until Easter and must also give up a vice for lent. Chili dogs are damn near a mortal sin, unless you adorn one with holy onions and cheese and anoint your sinful self with A & W Rootbeer. Not exactly the Blood of Christ or Sangre de Cristo as we said in New Mexico, but a mug can hold quite a head of carbonation. Ash Wednesday….flashback. When I was paroled from parochial school and entered the world of public school we had to attend Catechism Classes with is similar to getting a booster shot to make sure you don’t get the clap. My 14 year old friends Charlie, Greg and I used to pretend to go to Catechism at 7 pm at St. Thomas Aquinas Church, but instead would go behind the A & P store sitting on the brick fence in back smoking Chesterfields...came in handy on Ash Wednesday too...take the cig ashes and we’d do the sign of the cross on each others foreheads...and no one got wise to it. My step dad was Lutheran so didn’t care, my mom a former Catholic who was divorced after I was born had flack from the church so as far as she was concerned...the Vatican could burn to the ground...mainly the Catholic engine in the family was driven by my Grandparents... I always wanted to cater to others like me who could care less about ashes and offer for sale little bags of ashes for a quarter or better yet open us drive through sacrament stores like McDonalds. We could handle everything from confessions and a bag of fries and ashes on Ash Wednesday...why they chose hump day is beyond me. The ashes to be of any use have to made from the burning of palms from last year’s Palm Sunday. Palm fronds for Jesus. I frown on old fronds. They should be spanking new and not Catholic leftovers in a doggie bag.. Lent….a time to give up vices and be penitent. I never felt guilty about my vices so couldn’t figure out what to give up. At that age of puberty you could give up “urges” perhaps but when confronted with a burning bush of a pom pom girl waiting for her Red Sea to part... let’s face it pom poms beat palm fronds hands down. Easter! Good Friday kicks off this Woodstock Festival of religion. The workplace gets to duck out for church services, good Catholics that they be...I always headed for the Cafe Chat Noir topless bar on Jefferson Ave on the Riverfront in Detroit. Easter itself….yeah, mom would dress me up on suspenders and short pants for the obligatory photo ops on the porch steps. All I wanted was for church to get over and get to the business of finding Easter eggs, chocolate and wait for my cousins to all come over for dinner and play….Grandmas WAS the Vatican and damn it...SHE WAS THE POPE! Final words are from the Smothers Brothers from the Easter Show that the censors blocked and almost got them cancelled…..Dick asks Tom what he knows about Easter and what did Jesus say on the cross….Tom Smothers thinks then says…”This is a hell of a way to spend Easter!”
Jesus: The Forgotten Wonder Years
Even the Jewish and Christian scholars are at a loss to expound on what was Jesus doing between the ages of 12 - 30? Seems to be a gap in the knowledge. They speculate and pontificate, but hear ye hear ye, the Mike Marino Center of Biblical Research has unearthed his secret diary that will shed some illumination on what he was up to during the Wonder Years!
He was a high school student and Captain of the Varsity Football team at When the Saints Go Marching In Private Academy and a founding member of the local band, Nazareth. It was while in his senior year that he met his high school sweetheart and pom pom cheerleader, Mary “the Fox” Magdalene. “I loved when she did the splits. Man if you think the parting of the Red Sea was something, whoo wee, this the opening of the Pearly Gates!” he admitted in an interview in the November issue of The Playboy Dead Sea Scrolls Magazine published by his good friend Hymie Hefner conducted at the Wailing Wall Playboy Mansion.
“People picked on me all the time because, well, one, I had a Mexican name, Hey-seuss, two, I hung out with guys a lot and never seemed to have had a date with a woman. Look, I dated a lot of women in my time, except for lepers. They fall apart too easily. The trouble in those days is if you even looked wrong at a woman, you were accused of being a perverted Pharisee. Look I was a mensch not a yutz, OK?” (At the senior prom he was kicked out after turning water into wine and also for smoking in the boys room!)
After High School he hit the road and tried everything from stand up comedy to writing screenplays for movies. “I had one script purchased by Spartacus Studio’s about a Japanese Buddhist surprise invasion of Palestine I called it “Torah, Torah, Torah” starring Buddha “Sid” Hartha himself and Moses Pacino.
He was also a member of the Beth El Shirley Temple where he learned the art of magic. “I was famous for my Walking on Water routine and sawing a harlot in half. The crowd pleaser though is when I’d ask anyone in the room had brought a dead body with them. If they did I do a few incantations and badda bing, badda boom, they would rise up and wow the crowd! More body and blood of Christ, Barkeep!”
He was on the road much of the time and didn’t make it back home often for holidays. “I never got along too well with my stepfather, Joseph. We never knew who knocked mom up but have an idea it was the local baker. “Mom would call me up by yelling from a mountain top….’You never call anymore! What am I chopped liver?’ Everytime I did go back she always had a blind date set up with one of the local village virgins for me to meet. ‘Her father’s a shepard,’ she’d whine. ‘Marry her and you could have a whole flock of your own someday!’
By his mid 20’s he became addicted to speed and would spend 40 days and 40 nights sometimes wandering around the desert claiming to see devils. Once he was arrested for arson when he was caught setting fire and creating burning bushes!
By the time he hit 33 he felt he was sure he would hit the big time. His comedy and magic act were well known so his agent got him booked at the Last Supper Club and Casino. It was raided half-way through my show when I started into my “Seven Dirty Words You Can’t Say in Jerusalem” and “To Begat is a Verb.”
“The next three days were similar to the movie “The Midnight Express” although I met really cool dudes in the holding tank.The rest you know what happened. The only regret I had then and now is….that weekend...what a hell of a way to spend Easter!”
Rim Shots & Jesus Christ Superstar Rat Pack
“Ladies and Gentlemen...let’s give a great big hand and welcome to the Don Rickles of Bethlehem. (“Are there any stray Jews in town for the bagel and lox convention? Watch your silver coins around the Nubians!”) The Lenny Bruce of Sodom and Gomorrah. (“Jerusalem is festering with junkies and some really talented doped up Haifa harlots...for 5 silver coins they’ll begat for hours, man and part your Red Sea!”) The Rodney Dangerfield of Damascus! (“Take my Virgin Mother, please!) (Band playing “Jesus Christ Superstar by the Walls of Jericho horn section) “Now … Live at the Last Supper Supper Club….I give you...Jesus and the Rat Pack!!”
Jesus did his stand-up routine for 45 minutes then back in his dressing room I let the tape recorder roll….in case you’re wondering Memorex was invented in 21 A.D. by a gentile inventor Maximus Memorexious. He later invented the 45 rpm vinyl record. The first song recorded was “Louie, Louie,” by the Crucifiers from Canaan, Ohio. (Ohio at the time was located near Michigan in Syria)
JC: Man, we wowed them at the Coliseum in Rome. Great Roman room to work the crowd in, especially when the Detroit Lions play against the Cleveland Christians. We usually placed a bet or two with Saul of Gaul the local bookie and walk away with our robe pockets full of Persian coins and Greek drachmas. Then hit the Persian party stores (They own all the party stores and stables these days!) where I’d change the water into Mogen David wine..ha...Peter and Paul called it Mad Dog 20/20! I’d get loaded and do drag queen impressions of famous female pharaohs and queens. Cleopatra was a fave.
MM: That’s how you started isn’t it? Impersonating female religious figures?
JC: Oh yeah (laughs) I was working those divine dives in North Beach on the Dead Sea. The crowd was full of drunken Pharisees and I was JC the MC. They’d get louder when the Hebrew Pole Dancers hit the stage. Lap dancing in Latin was also a big hit especially in the Dominus Vobiscum Club and is pure joy as a good friend of mine, an excellent lesbian Eve impersonator, whose ample backside apple when meeting the willing serpent of a Roman soldier gave him a burning bush. Friday Nights were wild when the band started into “Thanks For the Mammaries” while the Galilee Girls shimmy shimmy ko ko bopped in the Mary Magdalene Mud Pit for the pious patrons ready to explode in their togas!
MM: You created a bit of religious showbiz with chutzpah,nez pas?
JC: There you go with the French Celt crap...very Gaul of you. (Jesus snickers) Getting back yes, I created the concept of Celibacy Fantasy Booths for first time sinners who are virgins of the ways of the vagina and prefer a plexiglass experience before they actually dive into the sexual sacrificial baptismal waters of a good old fashioned Christian romp under the covers, or an energetic Hebrew humpfest to bring down the chastity walls of Jericho with a blow of the horn...a euphemism if you please.
MM: Now...if you don’t want to talk about it..but you’re arrests on drug and obscenity charges.
JC: As for the drugs, yeah we’d get loaded on opium poppies and hashish from the Turkish Bosporus Cartel. That shit was some righteous Orthodox dope man. Made you feel all Byzantine like and see holy hallucinations...picture yourself in a boat on the Nile River with olive trees and Orthodox skies.
As for the obscenity bust, that was right after I finished filming the war film “Torah, Torah, Torah” I was eventually banned in Babylon for calling Pontius Pilot a cocksucker. A patron at the club objected to the word "cocksucker" and when I went to court claimed… I told the Book of Judges..."look the guy probably can't come!" I was convicted and sentenced to four months in the Crown of Thorns Prison but released on bail pending appeal.
MM: That’s some cross to bear my friend.
JC: Yeah it is. I’m still in litigation, but I still get bookings to Walk on Water at the Great Salt Sea Sea World Amusement Park and do bar mitzvahs and will be appearing at clubs in the Christian Catskills as well as Jewish Senior Centers in Miami in the Sinai. I’ll do more of my Rickles routines, you know, “if there’s any dagos in the room, check your guns at the door” Sinatra loves that shit.
MM: Thanks for the interview JC. Love your routines….any chance for a TV show gig?
JC: Been kicking around a few ideas with the boys. Urban setting, comedy and some tragedy...working title…”Seinfeld Meets Schindlers List” About a bunch of apostolic friends who go to a Mongol restaurant and have to wait hours for a table...really..a show about nothing...maybe it will fly. Gotta get filming fast though...got contracts but the Romans have new charges against me..had an undercover narc apostle snitch on me for some silver coin..but I’m sure I’ll beat the wrap...if not..no biggie..
Wonder Virgin Woman
Catholic Biblical Super Heroes Series
Look up in the sky, it’s a bird, it’s a plane….it’s The Holy Ghost, Batman!!! So you think super heroes only dwell on the pixelated pages of worn comic books, the cheap paper of pithy pulp novels and the sex filled silver screen do you? Think again!
This years silver screen blockbuster so far is “Wonder Woman” starring Israeli goddess, Godot, but, did you know before this Wonder Woman there was another. We’re talking about “Mary the Wonder Virgin”? Voluptuous vixen nymph of Nazareth became pregnant by an itinerant carpenter passing through from hobo village to hobo village . (Her family claimed it was a virgin birth, but everyone at the local Hebrew VFW hall didn’t buy it!)
She started as a character developed for the growing papyrus pulp novel comic magazines produced by Pharaoh Publishing and Punishment Periodicals headquarted in St. Paul-St. Minneapolis .
Wonder Virgin Mary was born complete with super powers, and combat skills that would make yesterday’s Centurians and today’s Navy Seals look like wimps She mastered martial arts that St. Mister Miyagi would be proud of as he taught her the ancient egg roll art of Bikini Wax On, Bikini Wax Off.
Her Wonder Virgin Mary costume was designed by Gucci of Galilee on Chariot Rodeo Drive on the fashionable Gladiator Belt Way near the famed Coliseum where the Roman Pharisees beat the New York Idol Worshippers in 632 B.C. during the World Series of Christian Combat Pay Per View.
It was a miraculous almost pagan light show of image and color and sexual innuendo. It’s top was a brilliant hot red color with gold breastplates highlighting her two sizable pots of gold hidden . Her Hebrew Burning Bush Brand hotpants, now available at a Genesis Department Store near you in the Greater Roman Empire as well as their newest location at Saul’s of Gaul.
The costume was a brilliant hue of blue, with a tempting field of stars and crucifixes design that put the Roman male libido in idol worship orbit as he longed to go where no mere mortal man had gone before ...except by invitation only. (She did have an affair with Gabriel the Angel, a known sex offender incarcerated at the Pearly Gates Penitentiary until paroled)
Then in the dreaded Bethlehem disco age she started wearing purple Palestinian polyester jumpsuits, but, eventually got back into that highly desirable Babylonian Beach Blanket Bingo bikini swimsuit look. Times changed and by the time she was showing off her Beyonce Baby Bump she was wearing a black leather chariot-biker babe outfit.
When she did her amazing spin action to transform into the Wonder Virgin Mary of Jerusalem wet dreams the Roman sentries had a hard time keeping their hands out of there togas. One other item of special interest was her Rosary of Truth that could bring down the temple when she belted out a few lines of “Jesus Christ, Superstar” when she was hired by Zion Vaudeville Troupe which included exotic dancers and Persian mimes.
or when the entire cast performed “Hair” in the nude at the Pee Wee Harod Playhouse and Strip Club.
Today she even has a drink named after her, a football play is named for her, and statues adorn Catholic backyards across the Midwest….let’s face it…she is the rockstar of Baby Bumps. The Beyonce of Bethlehem. The Joan Jett of Judah!!
Pearly Gates Theme Parks
Calling all Reservoir Dogma’s! Religions are now the entertainment centers of fun, frivolity and faith. Yes, boys and girls, step right up to the altar and lay down your hard earned money for a ticket to ride at the Non Denominational Amusement Park and Charismatic Carnival where the Midway is alive and well with games of chance and a freak show guaranteed to delight the chosen ones who have seen the light. Will the circle be unbroken? Hurry, Hurry, Hurry...Salvation is a mere roller coaster ride away.
You’ll thrill to the ‘Walk On Water Slide’ where miracles can happen! Enjoy the Tammy Faye Baker Clown Make-up contest while drinking a Holy Roller Cola from your own plastic Holy Grail souvenir cup.
Jesus Impersonator contests are a must see when they compete in the Battle of Miracles including the amazing Parting of Lake Erie while singing “One Toke Over the Line, Sweet Jesus”
In the Extreme Action Tent the Laughing Buddha Sumo Wrestlers put on a dazzling display of religion as a contact sport, while Fundamentalists try to guess your weight nd age while speaking in tongues.
Catholics will enjoy the Pontiff Purgatory Ride where Heaven and Hell meet in an apocalyptic pyrotechnic display of fire and brimstone then make tracks for the hourly Virgin Mary Nuns in Wet Habits Contests. Cheer on your favorite Dominican wearing only a short habit and a rosary thong.
The all Jewish concession stands feature Hebrew National Hot Dogs...remember ….they answer to a higher authority! Wash it all down with big ass mug of He’ Brew Beer and it’s Torah, Torah, Torah time.
The Mormon Polygamy Playground on the main midway is the place to be to see Missionary minions pole dance wives waiting to come of legal age to the music of the hit making Tabernacle Choir singers.
Amish Dodge ‘em buggy rides? We have them too, along with the exciting Rumspringa Rhumba Dancers. Real bang ‘em up buggy action all day long followed by the Amish Demolition Derby every night at 7 PM at the Mennonite Non-Motor Speedway!
At night under the stars it’s the Mohammed Muslim Merry Makers with the singing Hajib Babes, the undisputed Ronettes of Mecca belting out the classics we all remember from ‘Do You Think I’m Sexy Saudi Arabia?’ & ‘Wild Thing Allah
So lay your cares aside and cast out the doldrum demons...it’s show time at Holyland!
The Last Supper & Dumpster Diving the Divine
The Mike Marino Illogical Theological Theologians have spent most of the year engrossed in study in the Monastery of Mysterioso deep in the Alpine Mountains dumpster diving into the stories of the bible to unearth the truth from Bethlehem to Golgotha in under sixty seconds. The bible is loaded with stories about Temptations...but what about the Four Tops....Water into Wine...forget it....what about Smokey Robinson and the Miracles?
In taped interviews recorded at the time of the Last Supper...St. Peter gives this account.
“At first we were going for unleavened bread and a little vino, but we opted instead at the last minute for 6 large pizza’s from Domino’s Dominus Vobiscum no anchovies or pharasees please….hell, 30 minutes and it’s free! Remember we were just dead broke apostles. No jobs, no prospects. Only St. John made money...baptisms...for every dunked convert you get one free! The rest of us were on fish and loaves food stamps! Man you’d think raising the dead and getting the lame to walk would be worth something!”
One of the apostles, a former clergy member, Judas Priest stole some silver from the collection plate and used it to hire the Last Supper entertainment...some can can dancers from Canaan, the Pontius Pilot Pole Dancers, and the Topless Bimbos from Babylon!”
At this point disciples St. Simon and St. Garfunkel chimed in. “We were hired to do a gig at Canaan. Big Jewish wedding, mozeltov and all that, and JC was hired as the caterer. They wanted wine, Mogen David I think, you know thick as cough syrup so...bang...the old water into wine schtick. For snacks we feasted on Heresy Chocolate bars from Heresy, Pennsylvania. Drum roll please. He also did a little stand up routine with material he stole from St. Rodney Dangerfield….you know…’Take my Virgin Mother please!’ He bombed terribly, but later became a member of the All Saints Rat Pack playing to full rooms at the Galilee Hilton’s St. Sinatra Sodom and Gomorrah Room.”
“We were hired by JC to replace his old band, JC and Sunshine Band composed of seven dwarfs. Man, it was a great time. We went from getting paid in loaves and fishes to beer and brats. We used to travel to gigs by oxcart, but soon thanks to the Mesopotamia Mafia we had our own jet, first of its kind considering it was an era when most people were riding on their asses, and luckily JC had just gotten his Pontius Pilots License.”
As for the Virgin Birth routine... Joseph was framed and is now serving 15 - 20 on Carpenters Row. Seems she was underage and crossed Roman state lines and was charged with statutory rape...Today Cathoholic back yards are home Virgin Mary statues so in effect he should be given a new trial and charged only with Statueary Rape! Appeal still pending. Mary hadn’t seen JC for years when she finally did catch up to him she said, “You never call anymore!”
St. Peter continued. “Our agent called and was all excited..we had finally hit the big time..he had us booked in the Madison Square Garden of Gethsemane for two big shows...then...we couldn’t believe it ...the Golgotha Arena..Mt. Calvary...the mother of all gigs! Sell out crowd, tickets going fast! Album deals from the Nazarene Label...The Nazz!!
On the way to the gig, JC was riding in an open open s oxcart through the streets when a slingshot fired from the second floor of a pyramid at the Parchment Scroll Depository ended his life. The stone was fired by a ‘Fair Play for Sinai’ radical named Lee Harvious Oswaldus, who was arrested later at a gladiator fight at the Coliseum Theater. Later hieroglyphs show clearly a second figure on an area known as the Goshen Grassy Knoll with a slingshot in hand they think was David of Goliath fame, a known marksman and former Thebian Marine.
It still remains a mystery...as does most biblical stories...we will continue our dumpster diving into the divine with more exposes...provided the CIA or Catholic Intelligence Agency doesn’t send a black ops team after us...if they do...we’re off to see the Wikileaks Wizard in the Ecuadorian Embassy!!
Upgrade & Download the New Catholicism
In an effort to make the Catholic Church more attractive to people of other faiths, I feel implementing massive changes that may work, but are sure to upset the die hard Cathoholic. Traditional Communion is the starting point!
Catholics wants change...now! Communion is getting the thin communion wafer that sticks to the roof of your mouth with the tenacity of Spiderman, That damned wafer would sometimes stick to the roof of your mouth, and not in your hands, a real M&M of a deal. So take your prayer posed hands and with the two index fingers together, touching each other, insert them into your mouth to recon the upper palate..locate the offending dough and dislodge, all unseen by the pious in pews around you in a penitent pose kneeling on kneelers that resemble real bleeders.
I recommend upgrading communion. Adults will be able to have nachos and go ‘wino’ with a glass of blessed wine from a dispensation dispenser along with a bottle of Moosehead beer as a chaser. For the young kids, Catholics in training, I feel it would be more fun to have it come from a papal Pez dispenser. Another suggestion is to use MacDonald’s french fries or Body of Christ McNuggets dipped in ketchup. Hold the pickles, hold the lettuce! The kids will love it! Where’s the beef?
In our fast paced world it may be feasible to set up a series of drive thru confessionals. “I’d like to confess to coveting my neighbor’s wife, Father” to which the drive thru window priest will answer “That will be 10 Our Fathers, 25 Hail Mary’s and an Act of Contrition recited backwards standing on your head. Pull around to the next window please.”
Confession and cleansing of the soul is imperative before a Cathoholic can even take Holy Communion, but confessing sins to the priest in box is weird. Hell, make it a game show where the penitent can spin the wheel or buy a vowel to determine just punishment. For the more intelligent Cath to be, Confession can be set up as “Jeopardy” Father Trebeck I’d like Mortal Sin for 500 Hail Marys.” How do you ‘take’ Holy Communion anyway? It sounds like we’re being accused of shoplifting a sacrament.
Mass itself is as boring as waiting for the creme rinse to work its magic. To liven it up after the gospel is read, have the altar boys, priest and nuns, already dressed in colorful garb do a song and dance routine from a Broadway Show to pack the house! “Jesus Christ Superstar’ or ‘Godspell’ would work or do a Sharks and Jets routine from ‘Westside Story’ …”When you’re a Catholic you’re a Catholic all the way from your first venial sin to your last dying day..” The nuns can then break into a Rita Moreno dance number “Everything free in the Vatican, washing machines in the Vatican”
Catholics kneel a lot during mass on kneelers that are about as comfortable as a jail cell cot. Most Cathoholics don’t really kneel anyway. Sure we go through the motion, but most of us also lean back a few inches and rest our arse on the pew to distribute the pain. Replace the hard wooden pews with bean bag furniture and we’d be happy.
Candles on the altar. Lose ‘em and put up some lava lamps instead, that way we’d actually pay attention or look like we are as we watch the liquid dance while listening to parables and sermons.
One final change I recommend is to add a warning label on all Catholic Church buildings similar to those on packs of cigarettes and medication. If you overdose on dogma and get an erection that lasts more than 8 hours take two St. Joseph aspirins!
Shop Catholic
Forget the Mall of America for your Christmas shopping orgasm. The Vatican recently announced the grand opening of a chain of Catholic themed shopping malls where you can find everything from Cath-tech electronic gizmos and gadgets to Pope-on-a-Rope soap for your favorite incarcerated uncle or brother spending the holidays with three hots and a cot at the nearest state prison.
For all your electronic needs you’ll find an amazing array of e-toys at the Holy Crap Radio Shack including state of the art portable confessionals so you can confess your sins in the privacy of your own home. Each one comes fully equipped with a robotic priest who will hear your confession and dispense penance. (Batteries, rosary’s and true salvation not included.)
Fashionista’s rejoice! ‘The Pope Wears Prada’ clothing store carries the latest fashion lines including Messiah for Men, as well as the tasteful ladies line of Virgin Mary evening wear perfect for a night on the town at the St. Peter Basilica Disco.
At the food court you can find a litany of choices including ‘Nun on a Bun’ where you can feast on the Last Supper Happy Meal Combo or a simple order of Communion Wafer Nuggets for the kids. (Each happy meal comes with a crucifixion coloring book and a Moses action figure complete with burning bush!)
Cheese of Nazareth is a must for all your deli and wine needs from an Abraham Ham Sacrificial Sandwich to the giant Bethlehem Burger.
On a budget? Then you’ll want to shop at the Our Savior Save-a-Lot store for a fine selection of Immaculate Conception Condoms to inflatable Mary Magdalene dolls.
Looking for the perfect educational gift for the kids? Make a mad dash for Sins R Us. The shelves are fully stocked with Barbie the Wayward Schoolgirl dolls complete with removable plaid skirt and Ken the Perverted Priest Altar Boy Action Figure (each sold separately)
Board games abound including the popular ‘Go To Hell’ game for the whole family. Land on Mortal Sin and zap! Test your Catholic knowledge with All Saints Trivial Pursuit. Name the correct saint and you get a Special Dispensation Get Out of Lent Jail Card!
All malls will be open for 40 days and 40 nights prior to Christmas. They will be closed for three days at Easter right after the Good God, Good Friday blowout sale, but the gates will rise again on the third day.
The Pope says, “Shop Catholic! You’ll find what you’re looking for. I guarantee it!”
Patron Saints - The Next Generation
The Catholic Church needs a miraculous makeover when it comes to updating the roster of Patron Saints. The Catholic Saints are like wise guys in the Mafia. They’ve made their bones and are members of an elite group of pasta eating dago wop grease balls. You have St. Anthony, patron saint of lost articles...pray to him when you lose your cellphone and ba bing...it shows up. St. Anthony probably picked your pocket and stole it in the first place to fence it as street swag with St. Pawnbroker.
St.Christopher, St. Bernard, St. Teresa the Little Flower, St. Michael and so on. All protect everything Catholic. It’s time to get some new dead saints blood that will even protect a Southern Baptist speaking in tongues at a tent revival. St. Wi-Fi would protect our wireless signals when it goes out during a viewing of a porn vid from the UK or enjoying the latest fucking cat picture on Facebook with the caption “too cute”.
St. Brewmeister can be invoked when the last beer is about to be consumed by a drunken guest. Rather than make a mad dash beer run a 12 pack suddenly appears out of nowhere...and it’s your brand! Now that’s a miracle! Unless it’s Lite beer….then that is a sin and screams WIMP!
For the LGBT Catholic there is St. Liberace de Generes, the Patron Saint of Piano Bars, cross dressers and all things Village People. Most priests appreciate this particular saint especially when secretly pumping themselves at the pulpit under their vestments during the reading of the Gospel of Lady Chatterly’s Lover or hearing confessions of wanton wife swapping lust gone berserk in the suburbs or while chatting up a new Catholic convert in a gay bar.
We need a handicapped Catholic saint, but then again most people think Catholics are already handicapped as well as being drug addicted to Bingo at the Knights of Columbus Hall. St. Physically Challenged would be the politically correct name for the handicapped saint as opposed to St. Defective. He would watch over all Handicapped Parking spots at shopping centers and restaurants making sure the unchallenged don’t park their non handicapped SUV in “their” special spots that comes complete with sloped concrete to pop a wheelchair wheelie; a colorful stick figure in a wheelchair logo in yellow and a Catholic Decoder Ring.
Every year at Walmarts across the nation there can be the Blessing of the Cart People benediction where St. Obese descends from the top shelf of the Snack Food Section to give his blessing along with a free bag of Most Holy Fritos with a blessed jar of religious bean dip sanctified in Rome itself by Pope Cholesterol the IV.
For the true vinyl record addicted, we could have St. Turntable bless all the RCA plugs and 45 RPM adapters at an annual festival during Lent. The time on the Catholic calendar where you fast by giving up MP3’s and i-pods for a month and listen to music the way it was meant to be heard….the Vinyl Vatican Catholic way….with monster headphones or giant Pioneer speakers!
We also need more female saints. St. Machismo the Archangel needs a few good women for sainthood. St. Pauline the patron saint of Catholic Pole Dancers and St. Latin Lupe Lu covers the Catholic lapdancers. Catholic hookers have St. Pimp to watch over them as Catholic sex workers need help. The missionary position only goes so far while St. Fellatio guides them on a path where they won’t blow a blow job. As for masturbators...well you’ve heard of the right hand of God? Now you know what it’s for! He created the Earth in six days….guess what he was doing on the Sunday?
Will Victoria's Secret Replace the Vatican with a Female Pope?
You know the old saying..Is the Pope Catholic? The answer is yes, but, is HE a SHE? Question Mark? Sometime in the 9th Century, a new pope was chosen as successor to Pope Leo. (Not Pope DiCaprio. He came later.) This new pope assumed the name of Pope John VIII. It turns out that Pope John should have been named Pope Joan as this pope got very papal and very pregnant fooling all those of her court as to her true sexual identity. According to unearthed Vatican documents she gave birth, and both she and her baby died during childbirth. Perhaps the papal placenta wasn't blessed properly. My question is which Cardinal got a peek and a poke at a papal pussy?
That brings us full Sistine Chapel circle to today. Should we have a female pope, and what is the possibility of Victoria’s Secret replacing the Vatican...and IT’S many secrets. Will a red lacy thong replace the pope’s jockstrap? A female pope in a bedazzling thong facing the throngs singing Donna Summer songs would drive the masses to masses. A female pope would also look better in the white robes...especially if they are sheer with just a hint of leg showing off the papal panties with a pair of flaming red Garden of Eden garters that hold fast when genuflecting.
The whole papal wardrobe would have to undergo a gender specific undergarment makeover. The male popes wear what is called a “pallium” over his “chasuble” when celebrating Mass. I don’t even want know what he does in private with his “chasuble” but, I’d feel safer being in close proximity to a female pope in a push up bra. A male pope would make me nervous and I would do my best to keep my own “chasuble” neatly hidden away from his “maniple”!
The male pope also wears a crown type hat that makes him look a bit of a SNL Cone Head, and has a small staff in hand (no papal pun intended) that resembles Luke Skywalker’s light saber. I can see him now having fun in the confessional. After the penitent spills his guts...the pope laughs...blinds him with a blast from his staff and says in a deep booming voice…”Luke, I am your Father!” A female pope would rule with a large dildo in hand from Amsterdam. Beware men of a Pontiff with a strap-on!
A female pope would wear a very non-Conehead tiara and would toss the light saber aside and hopefully do pole dancing matinees on the Pussycat Basilica Silicone stage with a full compliment of female cardinal showgirls dressed in feathers and balloons and a pair of dirty mouthed parrots doing St. Lenny Bruce routines between acts with a big kick finish where doves of peace land on Bernie Sanders head and Hillary Clinton goes all Ozzie Osbourne and chews their heads off. Now we come to the question of Papal Public Restrooms. In South Carolina, should any pope visit and have to take a holy whiz, legislation was recently passed that it must clearly be marked “POPE” for a member of the Holy See to take a holy pee. Besides the pope spends most of his time on a throne anyway!
From a merchandising standpoint it would be an avalanche. Little boys play with Action Figures not dolls, and unless Pope on a Rope Soap in a prison shower is considered “action” a Pontificating Pontiff action figure won’t make the cut. Girls like dolls, so a female pope opens up a whole Mattel universe of Papal Barbie Dolls complete with a Pink Vatican playhouse.
Electing a new pope would be fun too. Instead of the School of Cardinals voting ad nauseum, the female contestants can brawl it out in a Roman mud pit filled with mud blessed by Holy Water! Should she have a virgin birth, or a run in with a Greek Orthodox counterpart breastfeeding in public would become fashionable. I am all for a Female Pope. Dressed in leather sporting the Catwoman look I’d repent and sin no more...of course dressed like that I would sin no less either! So break out the Barbie Pope Dolls….it’s time to do estrogen in the Vatican!
Catholicism 101: The Pope: Disco Sticks and Vestments by Prada
Talk about the need for term limits! The Pope of the Catholic Church doesn’t vacate the Vatican until he reaches his earthly expiration date. He has become somewhat iconic, which in itself is ironic. There is Pope on a Rope Soap, which I can only imagine is a big blessing in a prison shower where unwanted attention may attract the buzzards to roadkill. The Pope always picks a name to replace his own. I have speculated that is because they are in some sort of Vatican Witness Protection Program. The papal names chosen for the most part are bland and boring, but a few have some real flair. Pope John Paul for example. He opened the doors of Aldous Huxley's perception of pop culture. Soon, there will be, I predict, a Pope George Ringo. He’ll sit on his Holy Seat in the Holy See of Rome drumming his Disco Stick scepter while his guitar gently weeps.
Papal clothing could use an upgrade as well. A ball cap with the St. Louis Cardinals logo on it to replace the current Saturday Night Live Conehead helmet Popes seem to favor. The flowing gowns and vestments can be redesigned by Lady Gaga to give him a more streamlined space age Klaus Nomi Viva Las Vegas look, and as for the scepter he wields like a character from “Game of Thrones” he should have a disco stick dildo in hand to prove he is a macho, macho man of the village people.
The other interesting aspect for students of Pope-ology are the Papal Bulls. Non-Catholics may view this as large cattlemen’s ranch in central Italy straight of a Sergio Leone Italian spaghetti western with cowboy Cardinals working the range and bucking bronco’s and each other in the bunkhouse until Saturday night at the St. Peter and Paul Saloon alive with organ music, a large chalice of whiskey and a romp with a dance hall nun in a room upstairs where the red robed Cardinals can experience a real sexual stairway to heaven.
The bulls are the only written communication in which the Pope will refer to himself as Servant of the Servants of God." While “bulls” always used to bear a metal seal with the imprint of Sts. Peter and Paul, it now as the image of Puff the Magic Dragon along with Sts. Peter, Paul and Mary. Today it’s the most formal type of letter and edicts issued by the Vatican Chancery in the name of the Pope. Rumor has it that one of the Popes wanted a warning label on all Catholic Church buildings similar to those on packs of cigarettes and medication. If you overdose on dogma and get an erection that lasts more than 8 hours take two St. Joseph aspirins and find a willing altar boy or novitiate nun.
The Pope can also, if he is daring, change the sacrament of communion. Instead of just getting the thin stick to the roof of your mouth communion wafer of unleavened bread, you can order a combo that includes fries, along with a Wendy’s biggie size glass of wine from a dispensation dispenser and a boutique beer chaser. As for the communion wafer itself, I feel it would be more fun to have it given to us from a papal Pez dispenser. The kids will love it!
The Pope mystique is replete with a touch of the Motor City! The Popemobile has had many different designs since Pope Paul VI first used a modified Toyota Land Cruiser to greet crowds in Saint Peter's Square, in 1976. Some popemobiles have bulletproof glass walls to enclose the pope . Some allow the pope to sit, while others are designed to accommodate the pope standing and waving at the throngs, kind of a bobble head approach.
Sure, he could act like a holy hot dog and use the Oscar Meyer Weiner Mobile, but I feel there are a few options that have been neglected. A Winnebago for example. That way he could surprise the living hell out of all those Wisconsinites at a KOA Campground and join them around the campfire camping it up in his colorful vestments singing “Michael Row the Boat Ashore.”
Better yet, he could grab a VW Magic Bus and go all Sixties all the way while cruising through Haight Ashbury yelling to the crowds through his Papal Bullhorn Bong, “I am the egg man, koo koo, ka choo!” Real Lucy in the Sky Merry Pranksters stuff.
So, you don’t need a Bishopman to know which way the Papal wind will blow, but believe me, the answer my Catholic friend, is not blowing in the Vatican wind. Only time and Pope George Ringo, when he ascends to the throne, will know which Catholic vandal stole the handle.
Catholicism 101: The Rosary as Catholic NASCAR
If you’re looking for real redlining NASCAR racing action... Go Catholic!!! Forget Talladega race fans...even the Indy 500 Brickyard ain’t got nothing on The Vatican Oval Rosary Track! It’s where Catholics separate the Venial Sin Boys & Girls from the Mortal Sin Men & Women and If you’re into drag strip racing hell, you can go from Hail Mary to Our Father in under 60 seconds.
The Rosary in Catholicism is what the priest in the confessional dispenses to all us Pirates of Penance sinners filling our remorse filled tanks while cleaning our spiritual system faster than 3 quarts of Pennzoil 10W30. The Catholic Church is basically our pit crew on the great oval track of life and the Rosary is track of choice while we burn rubber so we don’t burn in hell while driving our guilt ridden single-turbo, 2.65 liter V8 700 horsepower soul ring around the Rosary Track that comes complete with a crucifix as the start and finish line. (Not to be confused with “Ja, vat’s your sign, Helga?” Which is merely a Finnish pick-up line in a bar in Helsinki)
Depending how deep you have sunk that week into a compost of sin will determine your pole position as you jockey with the others emerging from the confessional. Some are potential firewood to stoke the furnace hell anyway. They are easy to spot.
You enter St. Whatever for your weekly oil change of guilt. You notice one guy who’s already served his time in the solitary confinement of the confessional box. Now he’s in a pew, his head is bowed, kneeling on the kneelers, Rosary gripped in his hand as though it’s a life preserver and the Titanic is ready to go under. Then it hits you. He’s been on that Rosary a long time, he could be a serial killer and the priest is dead! Christ, all I did was think impure thoughts about my best friends mom.
Soon it’s your turn to enter the confessional, kneel and face God himself, or at least a reasonable facsimile. You confess your sins, sometimes you even made up things so the priest can feel good about forgiving you. Go easy on the sex sins though he’s wearing a long garment in the dark alone and no telling if he might go over the edge and get all Pee Wee Herman in private!
How the Catholic Rosary Race Track is designed is pure Holy Automotive genius and anyone can play and pray! Unlike the Indy 500 you only have 50 Hail Marys to knock down on the track in increments of ten. After each ten, you can hit the straightaways to the next 10. As you complete each ten Hail Mary’s you can even make a stop at the “Our Fathers.”
The Rosary racetrack itself begins at the Crucifix or the starting line (it also doubles as a gearshift!) Gentlemen and Danika...Start your engines!!! While the RPM’s are vvrrrooooming you can even toss in a few extra prayers for the Pope who has the overall pole position.
While waiting for the GO you have to rev the engine and get ready to slam those sins away! Don’t forget to make the Sign of the Cross before you roar off as it is the Nitrous Oxide in your tank of guilt...providing you have any guilt.
Once you’ve completed penance...your soul is cleansed and you made it to the finish line, so now it’s time to hit Victory Lane for some post race celebration. No, you don’t get the booze or the girls but fear not...you will sin again this week...but remember there’s always confession on Saturday to wash those booze and girls Friday Night Sins away!
Catholics 101: Football and Cheerleaders
Catholics invented football! Where do you think the Hail Mary pass originated? Joseph fumbled the ball and didn’t punt or pass or run...instead Gabriel the Archangel scored the winning touchdown just after the two-minute warning winning the big game against the Bethlehem Packers.
The Catholic Church is like a pro-football team..sort of. The pope of course is the Papal QB. The Broadway Joe of the Vatican and captain of the dogma in the locker room of litany. Backing him up on God’s gridiron are the Center, Half Back, Running Back and others. The Catholic version of a “tight end” is generally a parish altar boy kept in the “end zone,” but, he only keeps the stats and hands out towels to the Cardinals and Bishops.
A papal pigskin team lacks one very important element however! CHEERLEADERS! In Catholicism it’s the Holy Spirit versus Team Spirit and let’s face it...a celibate nun cheerleader won’t make the cut for the Sports Illustrated swimsuit cover, and priests on the playing field don’t wear jockstraps nor have they been referred to over a few chaste chalices of wine at St. Peters Upon this Hard Rock Cafe as “hunks in cassocks.” If they wore plaid kilts they may have a fighting chance at the Act of Contrition Championship Title.
Catholic school girls wear short plaid skirts, so why not Cheerleader Nuns? Simply lose the Holy Habit, get along with a Temptation Thong and get rid of the Delorean gullwing “back to the future helmet from hell” look and get a push up bra instead. The whole nun ensemble was originally designed to present the nun to Christ in her most beautiful form. During the halftime show, why should he have all the fun? A little novitiate nun leg and ass will make the saints go marching in!
The papal teams compete not for a Superbowl Ring, but, instead salivate for salvation to win the big game, the All Star Chastity League Super Bowl of the Altar All Stars! Venial Sin versus Mortal Sin. Forget the American League and the National League…..this is where the papal bull (Catholics will get this) hits the fans!
After the big win...it’s time to celebrate...Catholic Style! So grab your favorite nun under the bleachers and rock and roll...you can repent later! That’s what penance is for!
CATHOLICISM 101: When the Saints Go Marching In
The Catholic church has more saints than a pinata full of sinners falling like candy into the abyss of Hell. So many in fact, saint this, saint that, saint them, saint what, it’s hard to sort them all out or to determine who’s who, so yes, believe it or not, there are Saints Trading cards similar to baseball trading cards, WWF wrestler cards and serial killer cards! I can hear the little tykes now…”I’ll trade you a Virgin Mary and St. Anthony for a Ted Bundy Rookie card!” The Virgin Mary, known as St. Mary should be the patron saint of unwed mothers, but is not.. Not quite sure what she is patron of to be honest, probably all those unwed mothers in Catholic girls schools. Remember the story she told…”I was at a Jewish frat house party and my date, Gabriel the Archangel must have slipped something in my drink. I passed out and nine months later...I’m in a stable with a guy named Joe having a kid!”
It gets better. Enter St. Mary Magdalene who walked the streets and turns out in addition to turning tricks in Galilee she was a traveling companion of J. H. Christ along with some other women who according to the bible “The Twelve were with him (male followers), and also some women who had been cured of evil spirits and diseases: Mary (called Magdalene) from whom seven demons had come out—and many others. These women were helping to support them out of their own means. — Luke 8:1-3” I can only imagine what they did to support the gang!
She is probably the patron saint of sex workers and pole dancers, although I doubt strongly there was any mud wrestling at the temple in those days . St Peter is the equal of a Mafia underboss. Second in command to Jesus only. He’s the one who allows or denies entry through the Pearly Gates. He acts as a bouncer at a 70’s disco.
St. Christopher is the patron saint of travelers. Catholic dashboards are filled with statues of of the Big C to get them safely to their destination, unless of course they have been drinking or eluding police in a stolen car in Detroit. He also protects travelers from boredom while driving through the cornfield flat lands of Iowa.
I still haven’t figured out the role of St. Bernard except perhaps the guardian of kegs of booze for winos trapped on a glacier. St. Anthony, (here’s a good one) is the patron saint of lost items...every Catholic kid learns this mantra..”Dear St. Anthony, Please look around, a (blank) is lost and cannot be found” then bang the object should appear! Doesn’t work...trust me. I’ve mislaid my hash pipe many a time and St. Anthony either stole it or was out on a call looking for my lost Wifi signal!
St. Patrick we all know, and he is given his own parade every year so he must be the patron saint of drunken Irishmen and saber dancing Irish girls and lovers who have been jilted by the kilted.
I thinks it time for new saints to join the pro team. Times have changed after all. The LGBT crowd needs a patron saint from somewhere over the rainbow so we’ll have to wait until Monte Rock III fluffs his last feather boa.
I nominate St. Timothy Leary as patron saint of all things tie dyed and St. Jerry Garcia as patron saint of musicians. The Beatles should all be canonized as Patron Saints of Pop Culture...but we have to wait. There are still two to go before they can become canonized and become the Fab Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse Now. Although we did have a pope named John Paul...it’s time now a pope named George Ringo!
Is Catholic Purgatory Really a Greyhound Bus Depot?
Growing up Catholic you are taught that it is a sin to be anything other than a Catholic. We have purgatory after all. How many other religions can claim that? Purgatory is similar in theory to a Greyhound Bus Depot anywhere in the U.S. You have your ticket punched but you don't know if you’re going to San Francisco (heaven) or South Bend, Indiana (hell on earth) and you sit on a hard bench with an odd assortment of people, much like yourself, hung out to dry with a penny in your pocket to spare.
You get baptized at birth, which is similar to getting the registration and title to a car. Following are the various catholic "maintenance tune-ups" ...Holy Communion, confirmation (affirmation of something). Once all these borders are crossed you're in the big leagues and out of the minors. A Toledo Mudhen becomes a Detroit Tiger. You now enter the ballpark of the pros...the right to confess your sins.
It doesn't get much better than that for a Catholic. This is where you get to go into a small booth and confess to masturbation, swearing, thinking bad thoughts about others, lying, etc to a man who sits behind a gauze screen who recognize and he knows your voice. It's Father Flanagan and you are boy’s town. Guys confess more because we feel guiltier than girls and besides, we are scum anyway as most of our fantasies are dirty and involve girls. The priest listens attentively, and then makes a judgment call when all is said and done and diligently dispenses penance to you as though he were a judge at Nuremburg sentencing Goering to hang until dead. Usually a couple of Hail Mary's and Our Fathers will get you off the hook along with a sad, head hung low forlorn look as you walk to the pews to be penitent. All eyes upon you from others just as guilty of sin as you. You could get nailed with the Act of Contrition...which is akin to the death sentence in a capital murder trial. It is the lethal injection of all prayers.
Holy Communion is at first unsettling as the unleavened wafer is lowered onto the tongue top like a cherry on a sundae. The body of Christ, for Christ’s sakes. The wafer thin wafer must dissolve of its own free will...your teeth can't touch it, you can't touch it with your fingers, and it must just...poof! Disappear into the bowels of your body without aid or assistance. Unfortunately...it would sometimes stick to the roof of your mouth, and not in your hands, a real M&M of a deal. So take your prayer posed hands and with the two index fingers together, touching Indian teepee style, insert them into your mouth to recon the upper palate..locate the offending dough and dislodge, all unseen by the pious in pews around you in a penitent pose kneeling on kneelers that resemble real bleeders.
Catholic schoolgirls, rarely want to become nuns...mostly repressed in elementary school they want to uncork and let loose... They mainly want to marry rich, Catholic men and get past their first period without embarrassing themselves in class or the locker room.
Catholic mass is another thing altogether. It has mysticism, mystery, and magic..of sorts. The High Mass, the dreaded one hour job, has the density of the gravitational field of the planet Jupiter when it comes to pomp and pomposity. Incense doled out over the head of the pious filling the room like so much mustard gas in a World War I French trench, and the holy water dispensed from a wand up and down the aisles and falling on the heads of the praying congregation...holy water dispensed in such a fashion has one purpose and one purpose only...to ferret out any reluctant vampires that may be hiding among the holy. Holy water will blow their cover faster than a roadside bomb taking out a Humvee in Iraq.
The High Mass, Low Mass indicator is the number of candles lit on the altar when you go in prior to service. Two candles, short Readers Digest abridged version. Six Candles? You're in big time trouble. An hour minimum with all the rites tossed in like a Caesar salad. It's an easy code, this two candle, six candle thing, to break. Especially the High Mass..it brings the priest out in vestments so bright and colorful, you'd think you stumbled into the backstage area of an Elton John Concert as the priest is decked out in more colors than Sonny Barger at a Hells Angels funeral in Oakland, California.
So if you were raised Presbyterian...Baptist...Jewish...Muslim...count your blessings. Growing up Catholic, I only have one thing to say...High Mass, Low Mass....No Mas!