The Wages of Death
You know what I mean: all the News Heads blabbering away about how many people were camped out in the parking lot outside the church where the Pope lived and blah blah about what kinda Pope he was and blabbity-blab blab on whoís running the store when the Pope is, uh, away, or whatever, and whoís the party planner for the funeral ícuz itís gonna be a bitch doing the seating chart if Bush 43 and El Commandante Fidel show up at the same time, blah, blah.
And yeah, I know, heís dead, the Pope, but not really Dead-dead, because according to the Rules he played by, his Soul is Immortal on account of being in the employ of the J-to-the-C and the Gee-O-Dee, and that Organization has a really nice Severance Package. Good times.
It was kinda entertaining, seeing all the whatever you wanna call íems on the teevee who showed up for the big Pope Bon VoyageóPilgrims, Tourists, Pope-freaks, Groupies, Popies, whateveróplus and all the News Boobs from the Tube and World Leader Types and Rich Motherfuckers. I saw this photograph of the Popeís Last Ride, and thereís all these people outside the church and thereís a kabillion of these freaks flash-popping the Popemaster General with their cameras and cell cams. I mean, jeez, I dunno, but isnít it kinda inappropriate for people other than The Press to degrade the decorum or whatever of this guyís final fucking Public Appearance? If they had cell-phone cams when JC got nailed to that cross, you can bet your ass some putz would be snappiní away. I hope they at least passed the collection basket at the Popeís service and got some of those shutterbugs to cough up a few extra bucks for the annoying clicks and pops while they were trying to deal with JP IIís mortal remains in a dignified manner.
The ďBier,Ē I guess itís called, that thing they laid him out on when he was on display? That was pretty cool, the way they propped him up on that Bier thing. He looked good, seriously, Iím not kidding. Iím not makiní fun of no Pope, OK? I believe him to be in possession of Powerful Medicine. I ainít superstitious, Iím just sayiní, OK? I mean, why push your luck, right?
And hey, if anybodyís reading this, please to do me like they did Joannes Paulus Roman Numeral Two, umkay? Nice fuckiní send-off, seriously. So I amend my previous request for an old-school Viking Funeral like so: Hook me up with a big Pope-style hat (but not a sacrilegious one, OK?) and a cool robe and lay me out on a Bier. Or better yet, beeróyeah, put me on a really big cooler filled with ice-cold Beer, and then when you get me to my Final Destination, itís Party Time, OK? And make sure itís not just, like, a buncha Bud Light in that cooler. Mix it up a little, dig? Letís go with some imports and a few microbrews. This is no time to stint, knaímean?
So right, put me out like that and then segue to the Hot Viking Funeral Action. Just roll me outta the Basilica and slide whatís left of me offín the cooler onto the Viking Ship, and since you gotta set the boat on fire for the Viking part of the service, go ahead and set up a hibachi on the back, or at least roast weenies or marshmallows for a while before itís time to push off, and then just hit it quick with a few extra squirts of lighter fluid and push that bad boy out there on the water. Now thatís a party. Barbeque Funeral, man. Right? Can ya see it? Tell me you donít want a Barbeque Funeral now for your own self. Iím gonna start a fucking chain of BBQ Funeral Parlors and make a lotta money before I have to attend my own.
Ooh, and speaking of a Lot of Money, right now the early line on the New Pope is all about Dionigi Tettamanzi, the archbishop of Milan, Italy, and even though I was talking about Francis Arinze from Nigeria way the fuck back the last time everybody thought JP II was checking out, Iím thinking now maybe Iím gonna try and do a coupled Latin American entry and combinate Oscar Rodriguez Maradiaga (archbishop of Tegucigalpa, Honduras), Claudio Hummes (archbishop of S„o Paolo, Brazil), and Jorge Mario Bergoglio (archbishop of Buenos Aires, Argentina) into one bet.
And remember, put the F-U-N in your next funeral with Barbeque Funeralô
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