You will note how excited we were when our columnist Bob On The Pot seized the Papal Crown a couple of days ago, only to be usurped by that speccy, Swarthy Latin from Argentina, Frank.
Not Pope Bob On The Pot, has penned the following few words to express his sadness at losing the Papal Seal.
It’s not everyday you become Pope. It’s not everyday you unbecome Pope! Sadly my first Sermon On The Pot was to be my only one.
I was enjoying my new role to. The Potmobile was very comfy, and my lovely wife Shirley had given the confessionals in St Peter’s a makeover, with new TV’s, Jacuzzi and Minibar fitted. Revamping transubstantiation was on her to do list as well.
I was gutted when Cardinal Kiddy-Fiddler told me that I was no longer Pope. The reasons were very flimsy;
- I am not Catholic
- I have trouble spelling my name
- My table manners left a bit to be desired
- The answers to life’s problem cannot be solved by the liberal application of cheese
- My rash caused night sweats amongst some of the Clergy
- I was married
- I couldn’t knit
Most of these points are irrelevant and you CAN sort out most of your problems by the liberal application of Cheese.
But I have decided to set up a new religion. Potestantism.
I’ll be working on the finer details on the Megabus back from Rome, but Gambling, Tax Avoidance, Drink Driving and Free Rash Treatments will all feature as central tenets of Potestantism.
Our laws will be gleaned from the box set of Happy Days, Shirley bought me for Xmas. ”Sit On It!” will be our mantra.
But what really sticks in my craw is that they’ve given the job to an Argenbleedintinian! Jeez these bastards will think that the Falklands will be a doddle for ‘em now.
And as for that cheatin’ knobhead Maradona – Hand Of God? Me arse – so I say- Bring It On Pope Diego – keep your hands off Guernsey.
Laters and don’t forget – Sit On It!
Not Pope Bob I