Category Archives: Not about anything much
OK, so we know there are lots of things wrong with this. The Pope is in big disgrace with us for lifting the excommunication of a Holocaust-denying Bishop, and we’re no fans of animals in circuses anyway.
But still, you gotta love it:
Feedback is starting to arrive from friends-of-friends about the Vicar’s recent TV appearances. The main reaction from the uninitiated seems to be a large dollop of suprise that she does not, in fact, resemble the Vicar of D****y (the word is banned in the Parish, but we’re sure you know which famous fictional TV vicar we mean).
For once, the Vicar has managed not to be a total embarrassment to us. Having seen this picture, sent in by Fr. Mountain, on this occasion we can truly say that we are thankful she is not like other clerics:
Deacon Bottley, if you were in +Ophelia’s Diocese, your Priesting would have been cancelled by now.
As the Vicar gears up for the forthcoming Saint Nick’s Day Fayre by colouring in pictures of mitres and painting jam jars (yes, it’s a dull life in the Infirmary), we present this little offering:
(No offence meant to dyslexics.)
The Vicar is in high dudgeon. Yet again. For the last two weeks, all sorts of cruel and uncaring people have used the fragility of her health (cries of “for goodness’ sake, it’s only a cough” notwithstanding) to prevent her doing fun and exciting things.
She was stroppy when she couldn’t go to the seaside, belligerent when banned from her bicycle and – most uncharacteristically – extremely annoyed about having to stay in bed all day. But today, things have really hit rock bottom. Today, the Vicar was summarily excluded from a trip to the local music shop, thereby missing out on the chance to acquire her very own Hello Kitty guitar.
Of course, the fact that the Vicar can’t actually play the guitar seems to have passed her by, along with the thirty other good arguments against her owning one of these things (e.g. it’s pink; it’s noisy; people might start thinking she’s an Evangelical…). The sad truth is, the Vicar has harboured a secret penchant for Hello Kitty stuff ever since she became the proud holder of a red Hello Kitty bus pass holder (circa 1982).
In a bid to make the Elf feel even more guilty, we did a little trawl online for Hello Kitty products, and found a surprising selection. Perhaps one of the following might be more suitable for the Vicarage, a.k.a. Saint John’s Infirmary for Bewildered and Cantankerous Clergy:
1. Hello Kitty Antibacterial Soap
2. The Hello Kitty Blood Pressure Gauge
or even (no, really)…
3. The Hello Kitty Rectal Thermometer
We found all these things on possibly one of the best and funniest blogs of all time (apart from this one, of course) – namely, Hello Kitty Hell. The poor man who writes it has a wife who is clearly obsessed beyond the point of all reason with Hello Kitty. Their house is full of Hello Kitty everything, including four different types of loo paper. Apparently, their whole toilet is wall-to-wall kitsch. At least the Vicar wouldn’t stoop to that.
Of course, like those atheists who spend all their time and energy telling us why they don’t believe in God, the writer of said blog is at least as obsessed in his hatred of all things HK as his wife is in love with it all. As a result, his blog has become the online source for information on strange and frightening Hello Kitty products, including handguns, tattoos and … er … Japanese love hotels. We (and no doubt every parishioner of Forton) now live in fear of the Vicar ever seeing this photo:
Who do you think might wear a costume like this? Those of a nervous disposition, please don’t think about it. Everyone else, click here.
Thanks to our friend Nicholas Mario on the Isle of Sheppey for emailing us this story. We believe several of the Vicar’s Parishioners will find it strangely relevant…
Tommy’s Mother looked out the window and noticed TOMMY
‘playing church’ with their cat. He had the cat sitting quietly and he was preaching to it.
She smiled and went about her work.
A while later she heard loud meowing and hissing and ran back to the open window to see that Tommy was baptizing the cat in a tub of water.
She called out, ‘Tommy, stop that! The cat is afraid of water!’
Tommy looked up at her and said, ‘He should have thought about that before he joined my church.’
The Vicar is a jazzy young half-Polish priest. Well, that’s what the Bishop says, anyway.
Two things reminded us of our Polish heritage today. First a friend said that a Polish girl at work had gone ballistic and shouted a lot. Then the Vicar’s mother left us a comment to say that the Vicar can open jars of pickled cucumbers. From this we conclude the following, which we share with you, gentle reader:
1. Polish people like pickled cucumbers.
2. Polish people are mad.
If you’re in any doubt as to the veracity of these statements, please see the post below.