Those mad-as-a-box-of-hair fruitcakes at the Atelier du Ill Gotten Gains AKA The Vatican, have decided that because Pope John, Paul, George and Ringo the Second whipped himself like a proper knob-head, he deserves that sainthood that they’re desperado trying to give him.
For self-flagellation immitates Jesus’s suffering and therefore a saint maketh.
We touch ourselves inappropriately several times a day. So we’re saints, right?
We touch other people inappropriately at least twice that amount. That makes us god, right? Sorry, God-capital-G. G for Gouda cheese, the colour Green, GMTV and the Baby G. And Golly Gosh.
So frothing at the fanny is one bloke at The Big V – Monsignor Slawomir Oder – that he’s written a book all about why PJP2 should be canonized.
Slawomir Oder – which sounds like Stanley Unwin trying to pronounce Star Wars’ wise promordial d’, Yoda – writes that give-us-a-J, give-us-a-P, give-us-two-I’s regularly inflicted pain on himself to feel closer to ‘im upstairs.
‘In his closet (see, told you he was a gay!), among his vestments (D&G vests! See, told you he was a gay!), there was hung on a clothes hanger (hangers! See, told you he was a gay!) a particular kind of belt (patent leather with diamantes! See, told you he was gay!) which he used as a whip.’
Whippings! See, told you he was mad.
Also, when he was a bishop, he often slept on the bare floor so he could practice self-denial (honey, we know the sort of self-denial he was practising, mmm-hmmmn!) and asceticism.
Er, like, wotevs. We’ve woken face-down on the kithen floor many a morning after a night on the sauce, so stop showing off.
As for asceticism… whatever for?
And finally but in no way the last we’ll hear of this, Pope Ben the Umpteenth Twat in a Long Line has said that John Paul Deux has moved closer to sainthood because he lived the Christian faith heroically.
By which he means he was a cunt right to the bitter end.