Sunday, December 25, 2011

Festive Season Plea from a Depressed and Potless Smirk

Down, I am, dejected and depressed. I had to cancel our Winter Festival, because the Hubberholme Throat Singers wouldn't come - they said I hadn't paid them for last time (not true - we made them Lancashire hot-pot laced with psilocybin shrooms), the women's drum circle have all pleaded colds, and the men's dance group are in Morocco. Only Sister Splitblister was available, and she'salways nagging on about Vatican male power structures, whatever they are.

So here is my lament and plea:

Sod it!
We're out of pot.
Are all we've got.
Half a kilo -
That's not a lot.

Good will
And all that crap
'S phooey.
Don't give a rap
For Santa -
He's just a sap.

My grandad
Told me so.
Said God
'S a myth also.
(Cambridge man -
He ought to know).

All my
Disciples fled.
It's what I said -
'That Nietzsche
Wrote, "God is dead"'

My cult
Don't pay no more.
Need cash
And that's for sure.
Most of all
I need to score.

Restores my soul.
Soon things
Begin to roll,
Roll me
Out of this hole.

C. Hitchens spoke,
'S a cruel joke."
So why pray,
When you can toke?


Some grass to smoke!


  1. Smirk, whoever you are -

    Your verse
    Is a disgrace!
    Why don't you
    Shut your face?

  2. My Dear Brother in Mytho-Poeic Herbology--It is clear that you need to relocate you ministry to Oregon, in Portland, OR specifically. You Tube Portlandia and watch it, you'll see.

    But not to worry, our Ecumenical Outreach Coordinator Mar Rasta Swami Rhiannon Tantra sed Joy is on her way with a special Solstice blessing.

    BTW--I need a place to hide from the Fascist Medical Oppressors for a while...

    Fr. Skippy.

  3. Rev Fr Skippy, man, I warched you-tube Portlandia and that's the place I wanna be.

    Your Ecumenical Outreach Coordinator Mar Rasta Swami Rhiannon Tantra sed Joy is here, and ain't she a doll!

    You're welcome to my pad in Glast and to Mu, now my ex. Me and your sprightly Outreach Coordinator are on the next flight to Portland, Oregon.