Poop, poor Pappi ... we wake up, and hear the news that the Pope is dead! OK, all my Catholic brothers and sisters, it is a sad day, but hey - we ALL GONNA DIE! Thassright, so let's just go ahead and LIVE. Long live free minds! Organized religion is dope ... people who worship a pope or a hope or Elvis or Manson are just as dope! What is real? What is important? Who runs the show? The People.
Yeah, a buddy and I wake up, hear the news, have a laugh (in the name of freedom) and drink a glass of champagne. Why? 'Cuz if the Pope (gawd bless his wrinkled soul) was really a nice guy like they all say, then he realized that life is short, and the world is full of other nice people. (ripe to be converted!) They say that His last words were, "Amen." and then he keeled over. Yeah, right. We trade jabs at the wonderful geezer, stuff like, "I bet he was looking out the window at some sweet gal's rack, and said, 'Oh-man ...' not Amen!" Or, "Instead of waving his holy hand in the form of a cross, he flipped 'em all the bird!" Last words remembered. I mean, he had his fans, too, right? We laugh and soak up the sun (glad to be alive) and have another sip of champagne. I'll betchya the old fart was up there laughing with us ... Isn't LIFE wonderful!?
The date is 3-4-5. April the third, two-thousand-and-five. Perfect! Poland lives, but the Pope is dead. Hallelujah! Heh.
-Todd