Dry Nurses At Work

And it came to pass on the Day Of Infamy Eugenio Scalfari was among the invited; and, being now a close buddy with the Destroyer, had another substantial chat with him.

We aren't told whether recorders were there this time. They probably weren't, as a recorder would be extremely embarrassing not only for the Bishop of Rome, but for the Church. What transpires, though, is that Scalfari went away from his buddy persuaded he had material for another article; which means that he was authorised by Buddy to put the content of their own friendly chat in print.

Thankfully, the Fire Brigade – or if you prefer, the Dry Nurses – got wind or were informed about the matter, and promptly acted.

Yes, it's the Vatican Press Office here. Yes, it's about the conversation with the Holy Father. No, the printing of any article is not authorised. Yes, this is the last word. Yes, instruction from His Holiness. You're welcome. Good day.

(And it's sad a foreigner can't get the subtle, but very fine irony of the Italian article. But hey, someone must be a foreigner…).

We have come to the point that the nurses must run after Francis as if he were an unruly child making mischief everywhere. They must pay attention whom he talks to, because you never know what may come out of it. They must constantly entreat the child to please behave and stop making such a mess around him. They obviously know – from long-suffering experience – that the man cannot be relied upon one single interview, or even an “informal chat”, that does not give scandal. Therefore, when they can see beforehand what's happening – which is not the case when the man is alone with a telephone – they can at least implore and insist until Francis, always the Jesuit, yields for this time.

It is astonishing to think that only a few days after concubinegate, the man was already planning another urine pool, and it appears – I wasn't there, you know; I am not an abortionist atheist, so Francis' friendship with me is improbable – that only the prompt and decisive intervention of the Dry Nurses have avoided another huge mess.

Pray for the Dry Nurses. They truly need our help.

And pray Francis doesn't call Scalfari on the phone.

Mundabor

 

Suggestions For My Beatification

Pray that it does not die because of global warming!

Dear readers: at some point I will, like everyone of us, kick the bucket and, hopefully, be sent straight in the direction of Purgatory.

During that time of suffering and atonement, it would be a great consolation to me to know that, on earth, I have been beatified. Beatifications are not infallible, so I do not need to worry, from purgatory, that things aren't exactly like Pope Francis V thinks. I am, also, sure many of you would want to see me beatified; though you don't know anything of my sinfulness; an ignorance that is, in these cases, very convenient.

The way I propose you go about after my departure from this vale of tears is the following: any time something bad might happen, ask for my intercession that it may not happen.

For example, if I were now dead – sorry, but not right now – you could ask for my intercession for any or all of the following:

1. That there is no war over Crimea.

2. That there is no war over Eastern Ucraine.

3. That the conflict in Syria ends.

4. That Chelsea does not lose (half of you; the other half, that it may lose) against Atletico Madrid.

5. Put here three or five of your dangers you ask me to see averted.

6. Repeat the following day.

You will, then, soon notice a lot of these dangers have not transformed into the feared tragedy. You have asked me for intercession, and what was feared has not happened. If this is not a valid cause for beatification, I don't know what is, do I?

At this point, you will have tons of material to push my cause.

I am confident that, as similar causes are swiftly advancing, with your help I will reach the coveted prize still in the very first phase of my permanence in Purgatory.

“Blessed Mundabor Of Blogdom”.

Yep. Sounds good.

You don't need to start now. Wait that this blog has suddenly stopped publications for some months first. Then start with everything you can:

“That road crossing is dangerous; oh Mundabor, pray for me that I may not have a car accident in it!”

I see myself in the company of soon-to-be Blessed Paul VI already.

Mundabor