St Daryl's church news

Fr Arthur writes:

I want to thank you all for your contributions to St Daryl's mission to Aspatria, which, we are told, is one of the poorest countries in the world. Thanks to your generosity, we have been able to send them a brand new state-of-the-art wheelie bin, so that they may benefit from the rubbish-disposal facilities that we all take for granted in the developed world. The bin (nicknamed "Arthur" by the grateful Aspatrians) is featured on this year's St Daryl's Christmas card.

St Daryl's Christmas card. Well done, we're making a difference!

In return, the Aspatrians, who are very pious Catholics, have sent us a sack of delicious sheeps' eyes as a goodwill present. Help yourselves after the Mass!

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We regret that Mr and Mrs Delingpole, formerly regular communicants at St Daryl's, have been excommunicated, and will not be allowed in church again. In my absence last Saturday I delegated the hearing of Confessions to Mrs Thacker, my cleaning lady (and perhaps our future bishop - who knows?) and she discovered that the Delingpole family had admitted to finding a UKIP leaflet "quite interesting, really." Naturally, we notified the police, social services and the drugs squad, but we felt we should set an example too, and so I have provisionally excommunicated the entire Delingpole family, including their late grandmother Doris, whose gravestone has been removed from the cemetery as a precautionary measure.

The Delingpole family home, after a visit from social services.

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Highlights of Fr Arthur's sermon:

Today is the Feast of Christ the King. Now what do we think of when we hear the word "King?" A 2-metre statue? No, I said "King," not "Küng," Eamon. Let me help you, we think of someone important, perhaps

Aye, every inch a king!

No, Tina, you still haven't quite got the idea. We are more likely to be thinking of someone who sits on a throne. Perhaps someone like this:

"I do think Boris might have let me sit on his throne. And he's late again."

So when we come into church we should show respect to Christ the King. Cries of "Yo! God!" are helpful (indeed, that's the chorus of a hymn we'll be singing later), but you could also give a little friendly wave in the general direction of the sanctuary. We aren't supposed to genuflect since the days of Vatican II!

Now I want us all to join in this traditional ethnic hymn to Christ the King:

Everybody dance cos we gotta King!
Everybody dance cos we gotta King!
Clap your hands cos we gotta King!
Clap your hands cos we gotta King!

Clap your hand cos we gotta King!

Twist and shout cos we gotta King!
Twist and shout cos we gotta King!
Roll on the floor cos we gotta King!
Roll on the floor cos we gotta King!

Roll on the floor cos we gotta King!

Right, now if you'd like to pick yourselves up off the floor, we'll recite the Creed - or at least the bits we take seriously.

St Ubbs, an Anglican saint

Reprinted from the Indecent newspaper.

Ian Ubbs, vicar of Roderick-under-Glossop

Father Ian Ubbs, the vicar of Roderick-under-Glossop, is one of the most original minds in the Anglican church. His basic philosophy on all matters religious is Christ was wrong.

"For too long the church of England has been treating Christ as if He were some sort of God," explains Father Ian. "In fact, he was a racist homophobic bigot who believed in outmoded ideas such as Good and Evil. Almost every time He opened His mouth he said something stupid."

Jesus heals a blind man. But what was His true agenda?

Our Indecent reporter was naturally delighted to find a priest prepared to deny almost the entirety of Christian teaching - after all, we wouldn't have interviewed him if he'd been willing to put forward a more traditionally orthodox line - and so we asked Father Ian to explain.

"Look at all this nonsense about forgiving sins," scoffs Father Ian. "Over the centuries the Anglican church has evolved into a position where we don't accept the idea of sin. Thus there are only two possibilities here: either Jesus was a complete idiot who was out of touch with reality - or He was pretending that sin exists, in order to deceive people."

"Take up thy bed and walk." Jesus shows His prejudices against disabled people.

"Remember the racist story of the Good Samaritan? Obviously it was designed to insult the Samaritans, by implying that there was only one good one. And the story is also homophobic - all this stuff about pouring oil and wine on the traveller's wounds is obviously a sneering reference to gay massage parlours."

The Wedding at Cana. More homophobic bigotry.

"How about equality and diversity, Father Ian?"

"Well, as a committed Indecent reader, I see equality and diversity as the fundamental concepts in my faith; but Jesus never uses either word. That strongly suggests that we Anglicans have been encouraged to worship the wrong man."

Don't let Jesus see these girls - He was a known misogynist.

Our reporter then raised the issue of women priests, and gay weddings. Father Ian said "I rolled on the floor laughing hysterically when I first received communion from a woman. I shall similarly roll on the floor laughing the first time I officiate at the wedding of a gay couple, whether the Church sanctions it or not."

Although regarded as a conservative in the modern Anglican church, Father Ian is widely expected to be appointed as the next Archbishop of Canterbury.

Casting out demons. Nowadays you would get an ASBO for that.

The Book of St Richard, Chapter 1

1. Now there was abiding in the town of Nai-rob-i a woman, named Jean Mary Vyvyan Dawkins, whom some called "Selfish Jean," wedded to a man, named Clinton John Dawkins.

2. This man was an an agricultural civil servant, and drank many cups of tea in the service of the King.

3. And he was a man of great power and might, who controlled the supply of animal manure to the peoples of the land of Ken-ya. And their crops grew in abundance.

4. Now it came to pass that an angel of the Lord came down to visit Jean, and said, "Congratulations, you shall give birth to an atheist."

5. "And you shall call him 'Clinton Richard,' after his father; and he will be known as 'Richard,' or, to his enemies as 'Dr Bonkers.'" However, he shall not drink many cups of tea in the service of the King."

6. "Still, you must train him well, so that, like his father, he may devote his skills to seeing that the people lack not a goodly supply of manure, that which is called s'hit."

More manure.

7. And so Jean gave birth to her son, and laid him in a manger, for she had hopes that the family's pet lion cub might consume such a repulsive child.

8. But the Lord watched over young Richard, and he was not consumed. And Jean wept, saying that a curse was come upon her family.

9. Now it came to pass, when Richard was eight years of age, that he went with his parents to a far-off land called England, which is to say, "The land of the heroic but sometimes rather gullible."

10. And he studied amongst the doctors and sages in a place called Ound-le, which is to say "An academy for the sons of gentlefolk, or at least rich folk."

11. And Richard was told of the ways of the Lord, and he learnt of many wondrous things, such as the fact that Salathiel begot Zorobabel, and Zorobabel begot Abiud. However, some say that he rather missed the point of St Matthew's Gospel there.

12. He also learned from the Book of Matthew that the hen doth gather her chickens under her wings, a piece of wisdom that he retained in his heart. 

13. For later he was to write a scholarly thesis on the subject of chickens, that all men might say "Truly this is indeed a learned doctor, for he knoweth the way of the chicken."

14. But one day, when Richard was still a child, the Devil entered into his heart, and he said "ROFL."

15. Which meaneth, "I have considered all the arguments for the existence of God, and chosen to ignore them. Let us dance the dance that is known as Yakety-Sax."

16. And thus he made his way to Ox-ford, the land of the doctors and wise men. Although some say that there were wiser men at Cam-bridge.

Continued in Chapter 2.

Just another Minute

Now that Nicholas Parsons has been given some much-needed counselling, we resume our panel game "Just a Minute" with Moly Badnite, Damian Thompson, Ken Livingstone and Richard Dawkins. Recall that panelists must speak for one minute without (a) being rude about anyone, (b) rolling on the floor laughing, or (c) talking about their boring family.

NP: Right, Richard Dawkins, you have one minute on the subject of "World War II."

RD: The role of the Catholic church in World War II was truly shameful. It was Pope Pius XII who gave Hitler the idea of persecuting the Jews, you know. Pius instructed young Joseph Ratzinger, now Pope Benedict XVI, to found the Hitler Youth - he liked parading in funny costumes, still does. Having heard that, how can anyone pretend that God exists? ROFL.  BZZZ.

NP: A challenge from Ken Livingstone there. Yes, Richard lost control and started ROFLing.  Is there a doctor in the house? Ken, 45 seconds left on the subject of World War II.

KL: Hitler didn't like the Jews because they were all too rich to vote for him, and I have the same problem. My father warned me, you know. "Ken," he said, "Muslims good, Jews bad. IRA good, Tories bad. When in doubt make friends with the ones with the bombs. Got that?" BZZZ.

NP: Well Damian Thompson was the first to spot the gratuitous reference to a boring family-member. Damian, 32 seconds on "World War II."

DT: For all his faults, Josef Goebbels did obtain a Ph.D. from Heidelberg University in 1921, and he was a successful journalist in his younger days, sometimes known as Das Blut-verrückten Frettchen. He wrote a best-selling book Gegenwissen, which he followed up with Der Fix. You wouldn't see a thicko like Richard Chartres... BZZZ

NP: Rudeness from Damian there, so a successful challenge from Moly Badnite. Now, you have 18 seconds left. Can you talk about World War II (or in your case, anything else) without insults, ROFLs or mentioning your boring family?

MB: Er... Well... Um... Can I mention the woefully shameful way I was treated by Hermann Goering? I still remember those balmy nights in Berlin, when we danced romantically together by the light of the moon.  My father said we made a lovely couple. I've got a photo here.

MB (continues): In those days many of my "rels" were Catholic. BZZZ Shut up, will you? Not fanatical rude obsessed sock-puppet Catholics like James Macmillan, BZZZ BZZZ SHUT UP!  Devout saintly non-believing Catholics, the best kind. ROFFAM. BZZZ BZZZ BZZZ

 NP: What's ROFFAM? Oh yes, "rolls on floor foaming at mouth." Well, Moly got through to the final buzzer, but her nephew Eccles has just come on with a wheel-barrow to take her home. So it's goodbye from me. I'll be back when Hell freezes over, but not much sooner.

We is comin to Enggland

We was rellaxin in Anti Moly's huose in Stickybeak Street one evenin. I was queitly readin Damain Thopmson's blogg and wonderin whevver UKIP was saved, and Anti Moly was watchin her favuorite programm on de telly, which is Benny Hill cos he does de Yakety-Sax music at de end where he gets chased by lotsa girls. She fuond it much more soothin dan de prevviuos programm, which was an interveiw wiv Cradinal Pell abuot de menttal probblems dat old ladies suffer - when she saw him she screemed "Woeful!" and frew her flase teeth at de telly.

We gotta knock on de door and a strangley familair cosstume lawman was standin there.

 

 "G'day, g'day, g'day!" he said, dis bein wot Austrialan police is trained to say. "Molly Badnite alias Judy Headache, we has been gettin dozens of compliants about you bein a  public niusance. Why doesnt you go away for a while, so dat we aint forced to arrest you?"

So my dere Anti decided dat we wuold vissit Enggland, which is where Anti's ancesstors came from until dey was sent off to Bottany Bay. We made a list of all de poeple we wuold try and visit, dat Moly has said she reely admires, such as Damain Thopmson, St Cuttley, Richard Dakwins, Tina Beattie, de Duchess Camila, Tom Chivvers, and so on. We got a good range of celebritties dere, includdin de devuot and saintly like Cuttley and Thopmson, de loonies like Beattie and Dakwins, and de braney types like Chivvers and Camila.

However, Anti gave me a warnin about Enggland, as we walked down de street to de shops: "Dem Pommie bastards is all racists, Eccles. Dey aint multicultured and tollerant like we is." Kickin a passin abboriginal wot had strayed onto de pavement, she continnued: "Look at dere spellin, for instance. Dey is racist cos dey tells off Americans for spellin baddly." Pussonally, I aint never had a probblem wiv spellin, so I didnt reely understand wot she was gettin at.



Dat's a pitcher of my Anti Moly in a bad mood, some poeple says dat she ressembles Dr Jonhson slightly. Sometimes I feels like Boswell takin down de immotral words of Jonhson, cos my Anti never reely stops producin purls of wissdom, like de epiggrams above. I admits dat dey is a bit repettitive, like when she says "ROFL" half a dozen times. I don't fink Jonhson said "ROFL" except on specail occasoins. Also dere is a limmit to how many times you can prettend dat "Such is life" is a new and strikin obversation on de humman conditoin. De way of a boigrapher aint so easy.

Our freind Damain Thopmson have got a new book out soon, which Bosco and me helped him write when he visitted us in Lost Angels. Anti Moly finks we mihgt go and see him sing coppies of it, but she promissed she wont take a few locks of his hair as souvennirs, like she did wiv poor old Cuttley.



In Enggland dey got a delickacy called an Eccles cake. I hopes it is better dan de Austrialan delickacy known as de Moly cake, which is pretty repullsive, frankly. Eatin dem widgety grubbs is an acquirred taste.

De Moly Cod

My Grate-anti Moly is a keen debater on bloggs, but when she loses de argumment she often shouts out ROFL! I fought at first dat it was just de dreaded Roflitis illness dat she got (when I comes into her room, she is often rollin around on de floor like a large black barrel), but now I realise dat what she means to say is ROLF, it is a coded cry for help to anuvver famuous Austrialan what used to be a boyfreind of hers, when Cradinal Pell ran away to become a cosstume holly man.



Rofl is 81, so he is still a bit yuonger dan Anti Moly, but dey was grate pals about 50 years ago. Howevver, I has to deny de wicked rumuors dat dey had any kids togetther, and dat dere is a grandson livin in Brisbain. When de Queen visitted Austriala a few months ago, dere was a very rude man wot showed his bottom to de Queen (she describbed it as an "Anus Horribilis"), and de specullation was dat he was Anti's granddson. Since she dennies dis strenously, we has to give her de bennyfit of de duobt.

Meanwhile, we is bein kept awake at nihgt by de suonds of "Tie me kagnaroo down, spot," and "Waltzing Mattilde," from someone serenadin outside Anti Moly's window. We aint sure whevver it is Rofl Harris or Cradinal Pell, but anyway Anti frew a bucket of water over him and he went away. As you see from dis pitcher, Cradinal Pell is tryin to introduce tradditoinal Austrialan music to de Pop, so he is also a susspect.



After we heard Anti Moly singin "Tan my hide when I'm dead, Fred" round de house, Bosco and me went to de local leather shop and asked if dey cuold do us a good deal on our Grate Anti. Dey is gonna come back to us wiv an esstimate. Wiv skin like hers dere probabbly aint much to do.

Farver Arfur has sent a letter to de Pop, sayin dat it wuold be good to open a branch of de Inquisitoin in Callifornia, and while he is visitin us he wuold be verry happy to torcher poeple in de name of de Lord (but if de Pop dont mind, he prefers to torcher traddy Cathlics, after readin out to dem a long list of dere sins, especailly all de bad fings dey has said).

Arfur is still hidin in our house, in case Dakwins comes to arrest him, and he has been convertin a spare room into a torcher chabmer. He finks de Pop will be impressed by his enthusiams.

Farver Arfur at churhc

Our friend Farver Arfur dont live ruond here pernamently, so he dont have a churhc of his own. Todday he was standin in for Fr X. Pell de Mons at our local Cathlic churhc, cos Fr Pell was away bein treeted for nervuous exhaustoin. Dis may be becos Bosco tried to set his prebsyterry on fire as an eccumanic gessture.

We was gonna go along to see what Fr Arfur had to say, but we had probblems wiv Anti Moly, who was up all nihgt wiv roflitis. "Tee hee hee, sky faireys," she giggled. "A relligoin invented by bronze-age goat hurds, ha ha ha. De Pop's got red shoes, hee hee hee. Get goggling!" Den her mood changed to traggedy. "Pretty sad, eh. Woefull. Waaaahhhhh."



Dis is a book dat I was gonna get Anti Moly some time, it mentoins her old admirrer, Herrman Gorring, wot fuond her too agressive for his tastes. But maybe we shuoldnt stir up past trageddies.

I suppose you is gonna say dat we dealt wiv Anti Moly's roflitis probblem by givvin her gin, dat's de sort of mallicoius comments dey is allways makin about my Grate Anti. Nope, in fact we gave her a bowl of vintage mallt Austrialan whisky, it's called Glenn McGrath.

So we was late for de churhc, and we turned up just as de folks was leavin. Usaully dey gets a large congreggation of unsaved poeple, but dis week all we saw was Farver Arfur standin outside de churhc talkin to one old lady. De rest must have seen him commin.



We listened to de freidnly wellcome dat Farver Arfur was givvin to de sweet old lady.

"Madam, at 10.10 a.m. todday, you said 'I has greatly sinned in my thuoghts and in my words, in what I has done and in what I has failed to do, thruogh my fualt, thruogh my fualt, thruogh my most grievous fault.' I is gonna take dat as a confession, and hold it against you for de rest of your life. Poeple like you shuoldnt be allowed in de churhc."

As de old lady burst into tears and hobbled away, Farver Arfur explaned dat dis week he was preechin about sheeps and goats. He is compilin dossierrs on all de poeple he knows, so dat he can tell dem dat dey is all goats.

Bosco and me aint goats, indeed Bosco is a hihgly resppected figger at de Calumny Chappel. He has been givvin instructoin to de kiddies Bibble class, so dat some of dem may get saved like us. De kids was asked to draw a demmon, and dis was de best entry. Dere is somethink wrong wiv it, but I aint worked out what it is.



I aint mentoined Bosco's lycanthroppy todday. We is hopin dat until de moon is full we can keep it under controll. As you see from de pitcher bellow, Bosco is allmost managin to lead a normall life. Dont my bruvver look sweet?

Rememmbrance Day

Dis is a pitcher of Bosco last nihgt, he have got a new hobby, astronnomy. At least, he likes starin at de Moon and howlin. I was tryin to interest him in some uvver plannets, like Jupitter (de Cathlics make moddels of it and kiss em, Bosco says), but at de momment he is only interrested in de Moon. I gonna buy him a tellescope as a pressent.



Today is Vetterans Day (Rememmbrance Day) in Callifornia, and we was invited to attend a solenm cerremony at de war memmorial in Lake Hellsinus. Bosco is bein a bit dificult now, since de wolf bit him, and Grate-Anti Moly is always a bit dificult, but we went along anyway.

At de war memmorial dere was a costume holly man, who said "We is now gonna keep sillent for 2 minnutes, so dat we can medditate and pray."

To my dissmay, dis bruoght on a cry of "ROFL" from Anti Moly, and she started rollin on de gruond, luaghing historically at de idea of keepin quiet for 2 minnutes.



It dont make it easy to have a 2 minnute sillence, when you got an old lady cacklin historically, and de costume holly man aint allowed to say "Shut up you old bat," as dat aint bein sillent niether. But I passed her de bottle of gin, she settled down to medditate wiv dat, and we ressumed de sillence.

De next probblem was my bruvver Bosco, cos when he sees de Moon he gets very agittated. Dere was no Moon, but dey had put some floodlihgts on to illunimate de war memmorial, and dis set off his howlin again. So we got frew de 2 minnutes sillence wiv a mixture of rofls, howls and hiccupps (cos Anti had bin medditatin too hard wiv de gin).

What was worse was when we was walkin back we met Farver Arfur de Preist in good standin (he says) who told us "At 11 a.m. todday you said de followin: 'Rofl Rofl Cackle Cackle Shut up Anti Hee Hee Hee Give us de gin Yowww Yowww Ssshhh Bosco dat aint de Moon Yowww Yowww Hic Hic Hic Burp!' Does you fink dat dis is de propper way to behhave?" It is good to have Farver Arfur reminddin us of our foe pass, as we wuold not have known uvverwise.

When we got home we got a letter from anuvver costume holly man called John, who advissed us to read some devvotional writtin and medditate on de muvver of Jessus. Well dis aint what we does in de Callumny Chappel, sorry, John. Anyway, Pastor Cook has chosen some devvotional writtin for us, which he reckons is just at our levvel. Bosco and I reads it in de Chappel, and colors in de pitchers.



Dat aint my harey bruvver Bosco on de covver of de book, dats a wombbat. Anti says dey has lots of em in Austriala, and dey is deliciuos wiv fries.

Dat sockpoppet relligion

My grate-anti Moly says dat sockpoppetry is a Cathlic fing, and so Bosco sent me to a Cathlic mass to see if dat was reely the case.

So I went incoggnito to de church of de Sacrred Socks of St Micheal. I was met by a saintly pollite courtoeus man who gave me a hynm book, and said he was a laywer who worked for de internattional firm of Cutley, Butley and Mutley. He asked me a strange quetsion, viz, "How manny poeple is you gonna be todday?" Dat's odd. Usaully when we goes into de Calumny Chappel dey asks a much simpler quetsion, viz, "Is you saved, bruvver?"

I went into de churhc, and de service was given by a costume holly man who said he was de Bishopp of Bennidrom. He startted de Mass, although he went off to de vesttry after a while, probbably to kiss an iddle. Dis is a pitcher of de Bishopp of Bennidrom.



Later on I remmember a disgustin old lady takin de collecttion, carryin a broom stick wiv which she kept hittin poeple. She was wearin a pointy hat and looked just like my Anti Moly. Anuvver person I spotted in de church was bein a bit of a trubble-maker, frankly. When one of de costume holly men said "Lift up your hearts," he said "No I won't. ROFL." Then when de preist said "The Mass is ended, go in peace," de man said "No it isn't. No I won't. Twist and Shout."

To my astonnishment at the end of de Mass I realissed dat de laywer, de bishopp, de old lady and de trubble-maker was all de same person. In fact, thinkin about it I now realises dat nearly everryone in de churhc had bin goin out and comin in in different disgiuses (dere was annuvver one who dressed up as Stallin, den he came back wavin a cricket batt, dat confussed me, as we doesnt have dem in de Calumny Chappel, if we needs to chasstise kids we uses baseball bats).

Dey explaned it to me dat since God is 3 pussons (de Trinnity), de Cathlics fink dat dey shuold also be 3 pussons as well. My Anti is certianly wanted by de cops in Enggland, Austriala and de USA under de names of Judy, Alfie and Moly, so I asked her if she was plannin to become a Cathlic. Now I got her flase teef embedded in my leg, dat probbably means no.

I luvs my dere Anti so here is a new photto of her.

Illness in de fambly

My Grate-Anti Moly is sufferin badly from Roflitis. As I has mentoined before, she gits dese spamsms when she can do nuffin but cakcle and roll on de floor. Sometimes it even happens in de street, when she is on her way to de gin shop.



Here is a sample diallog dat we has.

Bosco: Anti Moly, Hunny, I has to point out to you dat you aint saved, and dat your stateu of de celebritty blogger Cutley is a cement iddle. Whats wuss, he is a Cathlic and destinned for de Lake of Fire.
Anti Moly: Rofl!
Eccles: My dere bruvver Bosco is rihgt, Anti. You is a lost sheep wot Jessus wants to save. Dey say he's very good wiv bad-temppered sheep and dem sheep what drinks too much. Anti, I finks dat gittin saved mihgt be a wise move.
Anti Moly: Rofl! Rofl!
Eccles: Bosco my dere, I gonna sing a Calumy Chappel hynm to our dere Anti.

We is brihgt and beuatiful,
Our preechers dey is wise,
God says we is wonderful
And goin to de skies.

Each little nun you beat up,
Each little concrete dove,
Dey shows we's gonna meet up
Wiv rapture all above.

Chorrus (We is brihgt and beuatiful).

We don't care if we sins now,
Cos dey is all forgaved.
We does just what we likes now,
Because we all is saved.

Chorrus (We is brihgt and beuatiful).

Anti Moly: Rofl! Rofl! Rofl!
Bosco: Shut up Eccles, or does I mean Hilda? My head is achin again.

Anyways, Anti Moly is currently havin a rest cure in St Hysteria's hopsital for de danggerously silly, and we hopes dat dey will be able to cope wiv her. She started by frowin de encephologrom apparattus out of de winder, but now dey straped her down and is tryin to cure de Roflitis.



It aint all bad news. Bosco has stopped sleepin in a box, and avoiddin de daylihgt, so perhaps he is gettin over de shock of bein bitten by Camila. He is still pinnin for de fat acktress called Hildda tho. He discovvered dat she gotta duaghter and he wants to take dirty phottos of her for his own blogg. Dat's very rude Bosco, and I cant fink of many saved poeple who puts dirty phottos on dere bloggs.

Savin de doctor

We had de doctor ruond to see Anti Moly as she had an attack of roflitis, dats a serious illness she gets when she hears a joke and mannages to undderstand it (which frankly aint very often). She luaghs hysterically and cant stop rollin round de floor.

Here is a happy pitcher of Anti Moly luaghin fit to bust.



Well my bruvver Bosco is very concsientiuos, even when he is badly wuounded he don't forgit to save people. He discovvered dat de doctor was a Cathlic, and in spite of his bandagged state he managed to have a profuond thoelogical debate wiv him.



Bosco he told de doctor, "You see, we is gonna sit at de Lord’s feast, while many that finks demselves chosen shall be cast into outer darkness. If you is saved you is gonna wear a white robe and a golden crown in de New Jerussalem, and even poor dubm Eccles will be castin down his golden crown by de River of de Water of Life. I bin wuonded by dem viscious nuns, but I is soon gonna be born agin in a new body. Allaluia!"

De doctor has promissed to buy a cemment dove and put it on his wall to bow to, like we does in de Calumny Chappel.

He dont seem to be able to cure Anti Moly's roflitis, but he says she could git a dog as a comppanion an dis may help. De pet shopp have got a luvvly doggie dat mihgt be siutable for soemone of Anti Moly's temperamment. Dey say it is called Cerberrus but if we buys it, Anti finks it maybe needs to have 3 names as it got 3 heads (she was finkin of Micky, Rutzi and Rofls).



De other news is dat my bruvver is gonna be able to take off de banddages tommorow, de Lord sure is good at healin his chossen ones like Bosco.