Can you smell the stench of where-to-run-to, pant-wetting teeth-chattering fear, terror, dread, funk?
They're on the run! Who are? The sin-sodden, sex-hate-mongering, motherhood-and-apple-pie loving bishops in England and Wales, every pathetic mother's son of them.
And for why, you ask?
Cuz their time is up! It's high noon! It's the midnight hour, when Hell doth gape and all that.
Are you with me? No?
Well, try this for size. Our admirable boys in blue have been feeling a few christian collars oop North, and have warned a so-called christian coffee-shop owner to hide his stash of bibles.
Because, as Dr Krimpleane Phabbs has pointed out in these columns, THAT BOOK is a hate-filled sewer of homophobic poison, not fit for public display.
And the bishops (and it's their book after all) have said NOTHING! Not a word! Not a dickey-bird!
Not a word
Just shows us the buggers are scared!
Yup, I can write poetry, too.
I predict, no, prophesy, that in 5 years 5 YEARS!, the church of rome will be clattering around in circles like an empty beer can in a windy parking lot!
AND YOU CAN QUOTE ME ON THAT.
Bogus Smirk, Chair, PAF (Proud and Faithless)