Pope forces Dalai Lama to resign

After his brilliant triumph in bluffing Fra' Matthew Festing, the Grandmaster of the Knight of Malta, into resigning (in spite of the fact that he actually has no jurisdiction over the Order of Malta), Pope Francis has decided to "go nuclear" and force some further resignations.

(Incidentally, we can reveal exclusively that, seeing the clownish antics of Maltese Bishops Scicluna and Grech, one of the pope's advisers rushed in to see him, saying "The fools! They've given the game away!" Owing to a clerical error, Pope Francis got tough with the "wrong" Malta, and poor Fra' Festing was the unhappy victim.)

In the end, the plan to settle things by Sumo wrestling came to nothing.

"So who else can we push over the edge?" asked Francis of his advisers. They soon came up with a list.

1. The Dalai Lama. It is very doubtful whether the pope has any authority in this case either, but the man is a definite rival. He really is humble and benevolent, and his platitudes are better than the pope's. Of course that would involve the appointment of a new Dalai Lama, but there is one obvious person, with a long experience of writing banalities: Bryony Gordon of the Dalai Telegraph!

2. Kim Jong-un must go. Francis has long pledged to reform the North Curia (memo, check spelling), and Kim is one of the few people who treats dissidents even more ruthlessly than Francis does. To take over this hereditary position, it was advisable to choose someone from the Kim family, so Kim Kar-dashian was the obvious choice.

The new woman in North Curia.

3. "I'm the pope and everything Catholic is under my direct command," says Francis, and so all people running organizations described as "Catholic" are expecting a rude phone call at 4 a.m. This includes Catholic Voices, the Catholic Herald, CAFOD, and cattlegrids.com (the pope's strong Argentinian accent may be responsible for this last one). It does not include the National Catholic Reporter, where the "Catholic" is well known to be an honorific title unrelated to its real activities.

Austen Ivereigh (seen here with Fr Rosica), may get a new job making cattle grids.

4. Last, but not least, Donald Trump is under threat from the pope. Although the USA is not under papal jurisdiction, some of the pope's best friends, such as Fr James Martin SJ, are still in shock that dear Hillary Clinton was so rudely rejected by the electorate. The prospect of Fr Jim taking part in a Women's March in Rome, dressed as a lady's naughty bits, has so horrified the Holy Father that he will do almost anything to prevent this from happening.

BREAKING: a compromise has been found, whereby Fra' Matthew Festing will go quietly, but only if Pope Francis does too. Since neither of them has the right to sack the other, this seems to be the fairest solution.

Religious leaders comment on the environment

Well, never mind the Pope's encyclical for the moment. What do other religious leaders have to say?

The Dalai Lama.

The isness of the one is the oneness of the all. We are one with the Earth, and the Earth is one with us. Putting it more simply, the wholeness of the essence of being is the key to the oneness of the why. If I say to myself, "Hello, Dalai!" then am I not talking to myself? Whereas, if I say to a tree, "Hello, Laurel," then am I not communing with the Universe? The upshot of that is that we should talk to trees, indeed we should listen to trees. For are we not trees ourselves? I know I am.

Justin Welby.

Now, it's not for an Anglican clergyman to preach to you; indeed, until my opinions have been approved by a 2/3 majority at the General Synod, we cannot be sure that they are truly the will of God - if He exists, and that's a question that we still aren't agreed on! However, I think I can stick my neck out here and say - in a very real sense - that if we are all doomed to be inconvenienced by War, Famine, Disease and Death, then this will be jolly unpopular in some circles. Still, I am happy to reassure my critics that the Church of England is instituting a system of "Smoking Bishops" to minister to those who think that being drowned by rising seas and bursting into flames is a good thing on the whole. So, as usual, we are catering for all beliefs and none. After all, that's why we're here!

Imam Abu Hamza.

We are all called to Jihad, and by that I mean the massacre of the infidel. But Allah asks us to do this in a way that respects the planet. Beheading Christians is ecologically sound - it has a very low carbon footprint - whereas shooting them releases dangerous greenhouse gases into the atmosphere. I used to be quite keen on the use of landmines, until I discovered Green Terrorism; nowadays I respect all nature - except for humans of course.

Brother Bosco of the Calvary Chapel.

I don't care about the environment. If the Pope says we must respect it, then he's saying this as part of some international baby-eating conspiracy including the Jesuits, the freemasons, Sepp Blatter, the Mafia, the Inland Revenue, the BBC's Strictly Come Dancing show, and the Mothers' Union. Trust me, I read all about it on wehatecatholics.org, catholicsarecannibals.com, letsbitethecarpet.org, makeupyourowndrivel.net and Richard Dawkins's website weluvdicky.org. The Catholics are just using atmospheric pollution as a smokescreen. Nurse! Where's my medication?

The Pope's diary

Paolo Gabriele being driven off to prison.

Wednesday. Having lost Paolo Gabriele, my butler and general factotum, I have been advised that I should not appoint a successor, as it gives ammunition to people who think the Pope should do his own dusting. Why, even that silly man Richard Coles who broadcasts on the BBC was making wisecracks about scratched thuribles!

There is a problem, though. I was going to go out to bless a new Lady Chapel that's been opened in Rome, but I had to stay in all day waiting for the plumber. For when I tried using the washing machine this morning, I found that a lot of water went through the floor, ruining the manuscript of my latest encyclical. Vatileaks, they call it.

Hello? Is that A.A.A.A.A.A.Alpha.Omega Plumbing Services?

Thursday. The washing-machine is working now, but something went wrong when I tried to wash my white cossack with a red chasuble. Now I've got a pink cassock. I hope this doesn't send out the wrong signals.

Bless me, I've managed to ruin another cassock. After cleaning the papal apartments, I had to empty the vacuum cleaner, and got dust all over my clothes. It's not easy when an 85-year-old man has to do his own cleaning. Thus, I had nothing presentable to wear except an old sheet when the Dalai Lama came for an audience. Still, as a result, I was praised for showing a new sympathetic attitude towards Buddhism.

The Dalai Lama achieves oneness with his domestic appliances.

Friday. Was hoping to make further progress with my book on the life of Jesus Christ, but, looking in my diary, I found that Archbishop Arthur Roche was coming to dinner, an occasion for him to tell me about his exciting new plans for closing churches in Rome. So I spent most of the day cooking a 12-course banquet (after queuing in Tesconi's to buy the ingredients).

One boar's head and an apple for its mouth; or would Arthur prefer chip butties and black pudding? What are cinnabons?

Saturday. I really want to get my latest encyclical finished - I'm supposed to be signing copies of it in Waterstoni's next week. But a Pope's work is never done. Apparently, the Sistine Chapel ceiling needs a lick of paint - Paolo Gabriele wanted to do the ceiling with a magnolia emulsion, but I don't think that's appropriate. Memo: Must try and get to Mass tomorrow.

Better leave it as it is. I'll never get up the ladder anyway.

The Book of St Richard, Chapter 7

Continued from Chapter 6

1. And it came to pass that Richard went on a journey to Damascus, there to receive yet another honorary degree; for many people had said to him, "Surely, you cannot be Syria's?" and he was determined to prove them wrong.

This man cannot be Syria's.

2. And, as he drew near to Damascus, a light from heaven shone round about him. And falling on the ground, he heard a voice saying to him: Richard, Richard, why persecutest thou me?

3. And Richard spake unto the Lord saying, "My opinions come from my genes, and I may not control them."

4. And the Lord spake unto Richard, saying, But consider, O foolish man, that those whose opinions come from their jeans are often using the wrong organ to think with, and are thus known as 'dick heads.'

5. But Richard understood not the words of the Lord, and vowed to persecute Him even more in future.

Have you read My new book, Richard?

6. And so Richard began to think about writing an Epistle to the Delusions, wherein he might explain that he himself was the only god worthy of worship.

7. Meanwhile, there came an attack, known as 9/11, wherein many were killed.

8. And Richard said unto himself, "This is a perfect opportunity for me to tell the world that all organized religion preaches violence.

9. For is not the Pope preparing to kill us all with botulinus toxin? Do not the Baptists bite the heads off ferrets? Do not the Quakers regularly throw hand grenades through the windows of orphanages? And is not the Dalai Lama building a nuclear bomb?"

One false move and I press the red button. Then we'll all go up together!

10. And Richard explained to the world that all it needed was secularism, and everyone would live in peace and harmony, as they already did in China and North Korea.

11. Meanwhile, in Oxford, Richard continued to serve as a fellow of New College, and Professor for Public Understanding of Science.

12. And Simonyi spake unto him, saying, "Shall I change the title of thy chair to Professor for the Bashing of Religion?" But in the end this did not come to pass.

13. And in the sixth year of the new millennium there came to pass two events that changed the world; and we shall speak of them in more detail in the next chapter.

14. For the world saw the publication of Richard's Magnum Opus The God Delusion, and the creation of Richard's own church, the Richard Dawkins Foundation for Reason and Science.

15. And Richard said, "Let it not be said that the Christians and the Muslims have better vestments than us. It is good that the ministers of our church shall also wear special garments."

Dawkins Foundation Garments, modelled by lunatics

16. And it was so.

Continued in Chapter 8

Dr Damian's problem page

I am a strong dominating woman, Chancellor of a financially stable Western nation with a long and proud tradition of helping other countries run themselves (especially in 1914-18 and 1939-45). All I want to do is to make sure that the Euro is a success, but I am having trouble with my partners in a certain Mediterranean country. Whereas in Ger.... it is normal to get to the office at 3 a.m. and not go home again until midnight, those Gr.... don't have the same work ethic. Indeed when I telephoned their Government, they said that the country was closed for the next 2 months for a holiday. As a result, I am losing patience with my European partners. Can you help?
Angela M. of Berlin.

A strong leader

Dr Damian replies:  We see here several examples of addiction, which I discuss in my best-selling book, The Fix, only £12 from all good bookshops. You, Angela, are addicted to work, and also, perhaps, to stomping around in jackboots telling people what to do. The Greeks, on the other hand, are addicted to olives, ouzo, sunbathing, and (historically at least) playing practical jokes on their friends by leaving wooden horses outside their houses. When you understand this, the solution is clear, and is explained in Chapter 94 of my book, Is Addiction leading to World War III?

---

I am a senior Tibetan costume holy man, who obtained his position in a rather curious way, by being "discovered" when I was a small child. I really don't enjoy my job, not just because I can't go into Chinese restaurants without a fight breaking out, but also because people insist on saying odd things to me such as "Make me one with everything," and "Hello, Dalai, well hello, Dalai," and then giggling, which I don't really understand. And the problem is that when I am dead I am going to be reincarnated, and will have to go through the whole business all over again. Oh, I would have been much happier on stage - I've got a very good yak-impersonation routine, for example. I've also tried calling myself Mr Gyatso, but then people blame me for inventing speed cameras, which I don't remember doing.
Dalai L. of No Fixed Abode.

Impersonating a yak

Dr Damian replies:  My new book, The Fix, is currently on offer at only £5, and  you will find that it describes some of the addictions which are the cause of your present worries. Telling silly jokes to religious leaders is one that I used to suffer from myself, and the only remedy is to drop religious affairs completely, as I have done. Your problem with reincarnation is a trickier one, although I do touch on it briefly in Chapter 55 of my book, Addiction beyond the grave.

---

Hey, I'm just a regular kind of guy, who simply wants to get rich and be loved by everyone. I'm also extremely talented when it comes to ending the Arab-Israeli conflict, building a stable economy, winning elections, etc. But now I no longer dare appear in public without people throwing fruit and vegetables at me, shouting "War criminal!" and "Poodle!" at me, and generally disrupting my humble attempts to earn a few million bucks here and there.
Tony B. of Blair Castle, Blair Mansions, Château Blair, Schloss Blair, Ze Beeg 'ouse zat ze reech Señor El-Blairo lives in, Big Chief Lying Blair's Wigwam, and the Blairovski Dachas.

A well-thrown tomato

Dr Damian replies: Addiction to food is a dangerous thing, leading to obesity, indigestion and sleepiness. As described in my new book, The Fix (now only £2 and with a free copy of Mary Riddell's Beauty Secrets thrown in), many people overcome these addictions by throwing away their food, often in the direction of some particularly hated politician. However, you have problems of your own, and you may find Chapter 84 of my book helpful, Are you addicted to telling lies?

---

Infidel Thompson dog, your stupid book has been of no use to me whatsoever. I am a simple Muslim cleric with a Sunni disposition, and a fondness for war, jihads and things that go BOOM. Nonetheless, the British authorities refuse to accept that I am merely the victim of an uncontrollable addiction to violence, and that I need specialised help - preferably a rest cure in a luxury hotel, with lots of handmaidens to look after my every need, know what I mean? War be upon you.
Abu H.of Belmarsh.

My heart goes boom bang-a-bang

Dr Damian replies: Of course, an addiction to violence is nothing new, and is well-described in my new book, The Fix (autographed copies for 20p, with a free blood-crazed ferret thrown in). You may find that Chapter 36, How I gave up assaulting bishops, which is my own personal story, will be of help to you.

Anti Moly's Memiors

"Has you got any organs, Anti?" I asked my dere Grate-Ant Moly a few days ago.
"Well, we has got an old barrel organ in de attic," she said. "As you know, I was a virtouso performer of de Yakety Sax tune at Methoddist funerals, in my yuonger days. Also I used to take Bosco out into de street to make music, when he was a wee lad."

Dat's Anti Moly and my dere bruvver Bosco givvin a recittal in de street.

"Nope, I don't fink dat's what I meant, Anti," I explaned. "You see dere is a loony in Manchesster wot finks dat Jessus had both male and female organs. Dem's what dey calls hermenuetics. De Pop knows all about it."

Anti Moly told me I was an idoit (dem's creul words, Anti), and went on to reveel dat de time has come to write her memiors, becuase she has lived a very interrestin life, and it is only rihgt dat de humman race shuold be able to read all abuot it. At pressent all she does is reveal little snippets of her autoboigraphy on uvver poeple's blogg, which of cuorse is much more interrestin dan discussin de actaul topic of de blogg.

"But you is very busy, Anti, pickin fights wiv Cathlics 24/7," I said. "Why doesnt you get someone to gohst-write de book?"
"Dat's a good idea, Eccles," said Anti Moly. "I can tell dem de story about how I trekked in de Himalayers lookin for de Dolly Llama, and got mistaken for de Abonimable Snowman. Also de true facts about my romances wiv Hermann Gorring and Cradinal Pell. Den dey can write it up propperly."

Anti is still very cross becuase George Pell refusses to admit dat he ever knew her, but she is tryin to console herself wiv anuvver admirrer, wot comes ruond to drink cammomile tea wiv her (dat's a code word we is now using for cream de menth, cos we doesnt want people to fink she drinks a lot).

We has tried askin St Cuttley, de cellebrated novelist, author of de best-cellar "Thopmson takes charge," to gohst-write Anti's memiors, but he has very pollitely declinned, cos de stresses of copin wiv his fambly is keepin him too busy.

I mentoined to Anti Moly dat dere is a tallented writer wot keeps donkeys on de Costa Blanca (Spane), and wot is very used to writin under false names, but she went into a fit of historics and I had to give her some more cammomile tea - if you knows what I mean (dere is a sutble clue below).

So we is still finkin abuot a gohst-writer. Dere's a cosstume holly man called Peter Mullen wot has retired now, and mihgt be availlable. Or else dere is Damain Thopmson, wot dont seem to be doin very much dese days.

I spose I might try writin up Anti Moly's memiors myself, but I is reely quite busy wiv dis blogg, wot gives spiritaul nuorishment to many poeple who wants to be saved.

I is concluddin today wiv a jolly pitcher of a dove, as authenticatted by Anti Moly de grate orthinologist. I fink it is saying "Ho Ho, you aint saved!"

The Debate of The Century

We are pleased to provide a transcript of the Debate of The Century, where a biologist and a theologian debate the existence of God. We hope it is more successful than last week's Debate of The Century, where a nuclear physicist and an art critic debated the existence of the Higgs Boson.

That's the biologist, Richard Dawkins (right), relaxing with an unidentified friend.

And that's the theologian, Rowan Williams (right), with a poor beggar who does't have any proper clothes.

The referee is Sir Anthony Kenny, who is a black belt in Judo, and able to stop the two protagonists from killing each other.

Let the debate commence!

---

Dawkins: Let me say first of all, as a trained biologist, that snakes cannot talk. I wrote a thesis in animal behaviour, and spent 3 years trying to persuade a serpent to say "Yea, hath God said, Ye shall not eat of every tree of the garden?" but it never got further than "Dawkins, you're an idiot." See? I've refuted one of the main tenets of your faith. Admit it, Beardie. Go on, admit it.

Williams: Thank you, Richard. May I say that this is a most useful and constructive contribution to our dialogue. In one sense, are we not all struggling to articulate an awareness of our own idiocy? Let me bring in philosophy for a moment.

Dawkins: Philosophy? That means "stamp-collecting," doesn't it? I've never had any time for it.

Williams: Well, in a very real sense it means that. But, if I may go further, it is also to do with the fundamental problems of our existence. Are we really here? I may be sticking my neck out here, but I like to think that, in many ways, there is something to be said for the theory that we are.

Dawkins: Talking of stamps... when I put a letter in a red box and it is magically transported to another place, am I supposed to deduce from that the existence of a postman? No, it is the genetic code in the envelope causing it to move of its own accord.

Williams: Perhaps I could venture to bring in Jesus Christ here, since we were talking about religion earlier?

Dawkins: Who?

Williams: Well, He appears later on in the Bible, and in a very real sense may be regarded as a somewhat relevant and meaningful person in the context of Christian thought.

Dawkins: Oh I stopped reading after Genesis. What a load of rubbish that was. What's the point of it? It was written by King James in 1611, anyway. What did he know about evolutionary biology? Look, we were all living in the Dark Ages until Darwin came along with his ground-breaking book called, um, "The Origin of the..." er... Oh my God, what's it called... it's on the tip of my tongue...

Williams: Species?

Dawkins: Yes, I like making speeches, and love having huge crowds of adoring teenagers saying "Richard, how can one man be so brilliant?" Have you ever read Genesis? That God chap. What a monster, eh? Took Adam, ripped his rib out, and made a woman out of it. When I was a research biologist I was able to show that it wasn't possible to make a whole woman out of a man's rib. All I could make was a rather nice table lamp. And even then I had to buy the wires and the bulb. Well, that proves that you Christians know nothing.

Williams: Well, it's not my job to preach to you, but...

Kenny: We're going to have to wrap this debate up soon, but do you have any final philosophical points to make? Does Occam's Razor tell us something?

Williams: Ha ha, I'm afraid I don't use Occam's Razor. And when I read the works of Bernard Shaw, I realised that Shavian philosophy was not for me either.

Dawkins: Well, I must be toddling off now, I've got a "Dawkins Youth" rally to attend. Don't think I'm one of those dreadful atheists, I'm just a humble agnostic who wants the Pope burnt at the stake. (Exit)

Williams: I thought that went very well, didn't you? In one sense we are all saying the same thing about religion, and sharing some very positive dialogue about whether God really exists. It reminds me of the General Synod.

Anti Moly's world tuor

When we was little, Anti Moly took Bosco and me on a world tuor to broadden our minds. Mom was very glad to have us off her hands for a few weeks, although Bosco was about 15, and de teecher said he ought to stay at shcool and learn to read and write as well as what I does.

We went first to Gibralltar, as Anti Moly had heard a rumuor dat Cradinal Pell wuold be visitin - you will recall dat he had escapped her affections by jumpin into a billaboing and den becommin a Cathlic preist. Here is a tuochin pitcher of Bosco sunbathin near de famuos Rock of Gibralltar (when he was little he didnt allways dress up as a clown of cuorse).

We didnt find Cradinal Pell, and Anti got into truoble when we tried to leave, as de Customms poeple said she was stealin a rock ape, I cant imaggine why. But Bosco looked just like his passport photto, so dey had to let him go.

Next we went to Tibbet to see de Dolly Llama. Anti had met dis cosstume holly man before in 1920 when she was a little girl and he charmed her wiv lotsa gin. Now she came back, but it was a different Dolly Llama, who said he was reincranated, but only drinks tea, so she told him he was a fruad. Still dis new Dolly chap said dat if she was good Anti Moly wuold be reincranated as a croccodile. If he is rihgt, then Bosco and Moly will look like dis, not much of a change really.

Still, for Anti Moly its de best you can do when you aint saved like Bosco and me, what will be wearin our golden crowns by de sea of glass. Dis worries me, in fact, as how is we supposed to jump in de sea of glass for a swim wivvout gettin cut to pieces? I asked Bosco and he said I was stuppid, saints doesnt get hot and need to swim. I aint so sure about dat, I gonna ask Pastor Recippe some day.

Anti Moly also took us to clibm up Ayyers Rock in Austriala, cos dis is a saccred place to de Aborrigines, bein a place linked wiv de fammuos dreemtime in dere mythollogy. So Anti Moly went and laid on de top and promptly started snorrin.

De Aborrigines wasnt too pleased dat she was dreemin wivvout a permitt, and sent one of de cosstume holly men to frow us off. Dat fing he's carry is called a boomerrang, aldough it don't go BOOM it go CRACK when it hits a sleepin lady and wakes her. She tried to frow it back, but it hit her in de face, you has to be an aborrigine to frow dem propperly.

Bosco, since dis chap dresses like us in de Calumny Chappel, I fink he mihgt be a little bit saved, dont you?

N.B. I has not blogged about All Saints (Novvember 1st), which is de day when we saved poeple in de Calumny Chappel pats ourselves on de back for bein saints who is alreddy specail freinds wiv Jessus. We was standin outsside de Chappel when a polliceman walked past and said "Grate Helloween cosstumes guys, but aint you a day late?" I dunno what he meant.

Moly and Dolly

Bosco he have been very quiet reccently, as he is preparin his campaing for becommin de next Pop. Dis aint as easy as it sounds, as you gotta get lotsa Cradinals to vote for you, and dem Cradinals mostly aint saved. It aint no good havin a fish hat and de right robes if you cant git dem to vote for you. So Bosco he is writtin to all de Cradinals wiv de followin tactfull message:

ULLO COSTUME HOLY MAN, YOU AINT SAVED. VOTE BOSCO FOR POP!

Dis is a pitcher of a Pop, notice dat he is about to swallow a live birdie. Bosco says he aint never done dat, but he eats pet hamsters sometimes and it cant be much different.

Anti Moly have been doin more interestin things, as she have decided to become a Bhuddist. Dis is partly becuase she says she was a Haddock in a previous incranation, but more becuase she once met de Dolly Llama and said dat he was nearly as holy as St Cuttley, wot she so admires.

Dis Dolly Llama is very old, it says on Wikkipedia dat he was born in 1391. Anti Moly says she met him in about 1920, when she was a litle girl on holliday in Tibbet. He invited her into de summer pallace and gave her as much gin as she wanted. She says he is straihgtforward, honnest, tollerant and kind, unlike de Pop who didnt even offer her a cup of tea.

I buoght a statue of de Dolly Llama for Anti Moly to kiss, and here it is. But she replied "You is a morron, Eccles." What is I doin wrong?

I also fuond dis pitcher of a Bhuddist sittin in a pond which is what Bhuddists likes doin. Dere is someone lookin over his shuolder which at first sihgt looked like Anti Moly but it turns out to be a cobbra. Perhaps it is my Anti Moly in a prevvious incranation.

De passover

Well I heard Bosco talkin to Anti Moly, and explanin dat de Lord was gonna send us de final plaque, de sluaghter of de first-born, but not to worry cos if de Angle of Death came we was gonna say dat de first-born was now Eccles (dis was a kind fing he did for me yesterday), who was a tottal pest wiv his blogg and would be no grate loss. Anti Moly replied "Ha. I'm gonna say you was twins, den I wont have any more probblems with crazy peeple trying to save me."

De next fing I knew, Bosco was packin a siutcase. He said "I'm goin on de run," and carefuly stowed away some of his souvennirs (like de toe of St Peter dat once got stuck to Bosco's nose, and de saccred statue of St Imbecilicus, wot is Bosco's Gaurdian Angle).

"Can I come wiv you, Bosco?" I asked. "We got lotsa people to convert who aint saved, I wouldnt mind talkin to de Buhddists next, dey should be easy to convert to de delights of de Calumny Chappel. Dis Dolly Llama woman sounds like a pushover."

Well to cut a long story short, Bosco said he'd rather face de Angle of Death than have me followin him round for de rest of his life (dat's not nice, Bosco). We bein saved we knows our Bibble, and de answer is that you gotta put labm's blud on de door. Den de Angle of Death comes by and says "Ho hum, dat's labm's blud. Dese chaps is saved. Anyone in next door?" Never fails. So we raided Anti Moly's wine cellar, openned a bottle of her Chatteau Moutton Wrathchild, and did just dat. Just to be on de safe side Bosco dressed up as a nun and hid in de tiolet, where he writes his luvvly bloggs. Here he is.

Well we is all pleased dat de passover went OK. De Angle of Death dropped in and turned out to be an old friend of Anti Moly's from her days as a chorus girl in Austriala, so we gave it a cup of tea. Dem plaques is over, and Bosco he have been given a strong warnin: "You gotta make more of an effort to convert people, or dis could be you, Bosco!"