Tag: pope francis (Page 5 of 5)

• Like a six-day, seven-night thing?
• Hitting D.C., Philly, and New York.
• I assume Philadelphia was part of the package and he had to go there to get the deal.
• Francis started off his trip in Cuba; he wanted to “see it before it gets ruined by the Americans.”
• Will not shut up about it.
• “Oh, but you’ve never tasted real Cuban food.”
• He addressed the masses.
• Important Cubans took him to places, and showed him things, which he looked at.
• It was pointed out to the Pope where the casinos will go, and where the resorts will be.
• There was a meeting with Fidel Castro, who simply will not fucking die.
• Give it to the tropical tyrant: that guy knows how to not die.
• Fidel Castro is much better than you at not dying, and proves it every day.
• Pope Francis led many masses and services and, I’m sure, baptized some babies and swore in (that’s not the term) some new priests and a ton of other ecclesiastical bullshit.
• The Pope is, like,  super-religious.
• Jesus this, Mary that: it’s all he talks about.
• I would have nothing to say to the Pope.
• “Did you make it to Chicago, Your Holiness?”
• Francis also had a Cuban sandwich during his stay, although in Cuba, they are just called sandwiches.
• Then it was off to DC, which Popes are allowed to fly to directly from Havana.
• You and I cannot (yet) fly from DC to Havana without all kinds of rigmarole because the Cold War is apparently geopolitical herpes and even though the main infection has died, we will forever have flare-ups.
• When the Pontiff’s plane landed at Andrews (Popes do not fly into fucking Dulles,) the pilot did that thing where he slid open the cockpit window and put the American and Papal flags up, which is one of my favorite high-level diplomatic show biz moves.
• Although, I always get a little confused about why there are windows that can be popped open in the cockpits of passenger jets.
• I was always led to believe that windows should not be opened on passenger jets, except if it’s the end of the movie and you need a dramatic way to kill the villain.
• Furthermore: what is the purpose of the window beyond announcing the arrival of a head of state?
• How many Popes and Queens are flying around that you need to build a flag-window into your airplanes?
• And–unlike Air Force One–the plane the Pope was in had just been specially chartered; it wasn’t Pope Jet Alpha.
• Which means the flag-window isn’t some weird option the Pope demanded be installed, physics and safety be damned.
• “It’s gotta have-a da window! How-a they gonna know I’m-a da Pope-a?”
• (The Popes of my lifetime have been Polish, German, and Argentinian; in my head, each of them has spoken with a comic Italian accent.)
• I digress.
• You might ask why I’m so interested in the Pope, and it’s a good question: a good deal of it is the pomp and ceremony that goes with a Papal Visit, the show of it all, but a lot of it is this:
• 
• Did Obama pick you up at the airport last time you went to DC?
• And dragged the whole family out onto the tarmac to stand there and clap as you walked down the stair-car stairs?
• Plus Biden?
• Well, Biden wasn’t dragged there at all: he’s a practicing Catholic and must have been thrilled and honored, but you get my point.
• No, the last time you went to DC, you flew into Dulles and took an Uber driven by a smelly person to a lonely room somewhere.
• The surest indicator of a person’s status is how they get to and from the airport.
• The Obama girls seem like intelligent, thoughtful teenagers who have been well raised and impressively educated.
• That said: all teenagers are shitty.
• Moody, weird, and–as I said–shitty.
• They must have gotten The Talk.
• “If you mess up in front of the Pope, so help me God–“
• “ALL RIGHT, MOM. Jeez.”
• “What did you say?”
• “Nothing!
• Meeting the Pope is like going to a wedding: you can’t wear white.
• He wears white.
• It’s his thing.
• Like Mark Twain or Tom Wolfe or Andrew W.K.
• Wearing white is tough: if you want a white suit, you pretty much have to have it made.
• Suits don’t come in white, not business suits, anyway.
• If you are required to wear a suit, then it is understood that the suit may not be white.
• If Obama showed up for a press conference in a white suit, the stock market would crater.
• People would panic.
• Full white-on-white: shirt, tie, suit?
• Riots in the streets.
• This is not really a valid concern, as President Obama’s suits don’t really have a color.
• Blue?
• Grey?
• They’re suit-colored.
• After the welcome, the Pope was presented with an assortment of children to consume*; one of them must have made a sudden move because his defensive frill activated.
• Sadly, the Pope was acting on sheer instinct at that point, and spat venom from his Papal venom glands into the child’s eyes.
• 
• President’s having a swell old time.
• Obama ladies: over it.
• From there, it was back to the White House, and there was an awkward moment.
• President’s like, “Hop in the motorcade.”
• Pope’s like, “I got my own ride.”
• And Obama goes, “Then why did I come to pick you up?”
• Pope’s all, “You came to meet me. Not pick me up.”
• So Obama says, “Meet you? What the fuck does that mean?”
• And the Pope’s all, “I’m the Pope. You meet Popes.”
• And Obama’s just, “Fine. Whatever. What are you driving?”
• Pope goes, “Fiat 500.”
• …
• “Suck my dick, Fiat 500.”
• “It’s Italian!”
• “You’re not!”
• “Maybe I should drive a Kenyan car.”
• “Fuck does that mean, bro?”
• “You know what it means, bro.”
• “Explain it to me, bro!”
• And then Michelle says, “Barack, stop it. This guy ain’t worth it.”
• And Obama goes, “Stay out of this, baby!”
• Long story short: there was a fistfight.
• The President and the Pope were pulled off of one another; the Pope got in his Fiat 500.
• 
• Modesty in appearance and frugality in spending seems to be a theme with this Pope, and it is an admirable one, but this is too much.
• Why not sit bitch on a Vespa?
• Or take the Metro?
• Getting rid of the luxury Mercedes was a nice move, but this is a car that causes tantrums at rental places.
• “I RESERVED A DODGE CHARGER!”
• Is this honestly the best thing Fiat makes nowadays?
• I think this is the jacked-up version of the tiny 500, which is a golf cart with a gasoline engine and piano casters for tires.
• It looks like a Kia Soul had sex with a Nissan Rogue.
• (Those are terrible looking things.)
• This is a useless car for a fancy, important person.
• You can tell the driver what radio station to play, but you really have no control.
• And you know he’s putting on Outlaw Country again and he’s gonna start in with his conspiracy theories about Waylon Jennings and the Rothschilds.
• Where did the Swiss Guard find this guy?
• Also, “SCV” stands for Shitty Church Vehicle.
• I understand that the range of options in the “affordable–yet spacious and environmentally friendly–Italian car” is not huge: none of those are things Italians are skilled at doing when it comes to cars.
• Italy produces wonderful automobiles that are neither affordable nor spacious that get three miles to the gallon, but it would be inappropriate for the Pope to be driven around in a Ferrari.
• Even a white one.
• It’s just such an ugly little thing, though: was it truly the best, or only, choice?
• Does Alfa Romeo still make cars in America?
• For younger Enthusiasts, Alfa Romeo was an Italian company that built cars that broke.
• They were pretty, though.
• My point is: when this is your next activity –
• 
• – you need to get there in a better car than a Fiat.
• Ask Tony.
• He fixes Fiats.
• Again.
• And again.
• The Pope also canonized a Spanish priest who helped settle California for the Church.
• And if the phrase “settle California for the Church” doesn’t run a shiver down your spine, then you may be unfamiliar with the recruiting methods Catholics used in the New World.
• Now the Pope slumbers.
• Like Odin, the Pope must go into a slumber that regenerates his powers, during which he is vulnerable to attack.
• Popesleep.
• When he arises, the Pope will pope some more.
• There is always poping to do on the farm.

*The little black girl.

The Pope is in America right now: he is on the East Coast, so if you are also on the East Coast and need to go somewhere, you can’t. Unless, of course, you’re the Pope. He can go anywhere, but I’m unsure how much of an audible he would be allowed to call. Like, he can go eat with homeless people instead of Congress (good call, Francis,) but could he say “fuck it” and blow off the UN speech to go to Great Adventure? Would the Vatican higher-ups and the security staff listen to him? He is the Pope: whole point of having a Pope is that you have to listen to him, but even when it would harm his image and public status?

What’s the use of being Pope if you don’t get to go to Great Adventure?

Anyway, the Pontiff has the country in a tizzy, and social media hashtagging furiously: there have been custom emojis made up. People enjoy this Pope and his message of equality of compassion towards the poor; it is a refreshing change from the previous Pope, who enjoyed sitting on a giant gold throne and picking fights with Muslims.

This new Pope does agree with the old one on several key issues, though, mostly regarding women and their whorishness and stupidity and how utterly preposterous it is that you even suggest that one could be a priest. Both Popes share an opinion on child rape (“Don’t do that again! Last warning!”) and whether it’s okay to offer diplomatic sanctuary to men alleged to have overseen cover-ups, quiet relocations, and threats against families in the defense of child rapists. (Both Francis and Benedict think it’s fine.)

Theologically, they might not be that far apart, but the old Pope (who it should be noted always and forever was a fucking Nazi) looked like this:

And the new Pope looks like this:

Attitudes towards the Church are thawing, attendance is up, coffers are refilling: never forget that it’s all just show biz, and you can sell a lot more records with a Bobby in the band.

• Lunge.
• Fistbump.
• Invite him for Netflix and Chill.
• Popes do not Netflix and Chill.
• Ask him how he thinks the Colts will do this year.
• Reach furtively into your jacket.
• Americans are a casual people, but greeting the Pope by saying, “Frank, you cocksucker! Been a while! How’s your bird?” would be inappropriate.
• Do not drink red wine around the Pope.
• Nor eat spaghetti.
• Scratch your balls.
• Scratch your lady-balls.
• Mention the Falkland Islands.
• If you absolutely must, call them the Malvinas, at least.
• Speaking of Argentina, let’s not mention their policy towards Nazis after the war, either.
• (It was an open door policy.)
• Poop your pants.
• Poop your habit.
• Poop your choir robes.
• Let’s just say that there will be no pooping in the Pope’s presence.
• I suppose it would be polite to inquire about Francis’ predecessor, Pope Benedict XVI, but try not to use the words “creepy-ass fuckwad,” “Emperor Palpatine,” or “the clearly, obviously, blatantly homosexual one.”
• If there were ever a good time to use babies as weapons, this would be the opposite.
• Please do not grab your baby by the fat little ankles and swing it into the Pope.
• That would be wrong.
• Do not bring up CrossFit around Pop Francis: he will not shut the fuck up about it.
• We get it: you’re down two cassock sizes and your miter needed to be hemmed; good for you, Francis.
• Do not call him Francis.
• He prefers Chainsaw.

Dear Philadelphia,

Please do not wing D batteries at the Pope when he visits you.

We all know, Philadelphia, that you want to wing D batteries at the Pope; please do not do this; it will reflect badly upon all of us.

You are what you are, Philadelphia, and no one is asking you to change. That you see Pope Francis and the first thought that comes to mind is to throw a Duracell at his temple, hard, is one of your selling points.

But not now, Philadelphia; please do not wing D batteries at the Pope.

Sincerely,

The Rest of the Country

• Having gross stuff instead of penises like they’re supposed to.
• Being shrill.
• Being a harpie.
• Being a harridan.
• Being a prude.
• Being a tease.
• Being a slut.
• Breast-feeding anywhere but a darkened windowless room with the door triple-locked so no one will have to look upon their shame.
• Their filthy opinions.
• The whole “stop raping us” obsession.
• Ending a sentence in a preposition.
• Teeth down there?
• Singing off-key during Playing in the Band.
• Wearing trousers.
• The complete lack of humor about anonymous death threats anytime they write something on the internet.
• Demanding bodily autonomy, even though they lack dicks.
• A dick is to the body what a joystick is to a plane: it’s how you control the sucker.
• Duh.
• Women, right?