Thought Vomit #56: ft. Bless You

Hagiography is the study of saints, and it’s more fun than stamp collecting, trainspotting and pubic hair counting all put together in a blender, blitzed for twenty six seconds and then poured deftly into a lobotomised monkey skull. That’s why I’ve taken it up, and NOT because I have a bald itching ball bag and a load of chimp scalps. Here is what I’ve learnt so far:

SAINT VELOTHIPITHITIS is the Patron Saint of Patron Saints. This old woman was beatified after spending her entire life being patronising to the town of Southampton. Not the people mind you, the actual place; and she could often be seen patting the head of small buildings, calling the post office ‘young man’, or telling the M27 that it couldn’t possibly understand.

SAINT SURROGATIA is the Patron Saint of Lost Toe Nails. She works in much the same way as Saint Anthony, only with a much more specialised and perhaps disgusting bent. If you have cut a toe nail and it has careened into oblivion, or somewhere between the sofa and next door, you can beseech Saint Surrogatia to help you find it, and guaranteed, within two weeks, the nail will reappear on your toe.

SAINT MATTHIUS is the Patron Saint of Wednesdays, and was narrowly beaten to the post of Thursdays by Saint Arthur of Dent. Matthius is tasked in heaven with being slightly tiresome in that he is too far from something nice in both directions, and he has the faint odour of a life mis-spent.

SAINT VADER is the Patron Saint of Heavy Breathing and Final Parental Redemption, having been drawn to the badly lit area of heaven and killing all them Ewoks. More machine now than Saint, Vader is twisted and evil. He ceased to be a man and became a Saint. When that happened, the good man was destroyed. God knew, as others did, that if Vader had any offspring, they would be a threat, and so God chopped Vader’s balls off.

SAINT SOUGH is the Patron Saint of Annoying News. If you find yourself in receipt of irksome information, you should pray to Saint Sough. Maybe you’ve just been told that you have a parcel from Amazon but you can’t pick it up until tomorrow and it’s that Wire box set you’ve been gagging to get your eyes on, just genuflect to Saint Sough and nothing whatsoever will happen.

SAINT BULLTWIT is the Patron Saint of Internet Gossip, and she was out in force last night; informing the toobs that Spiderman had eaten Harrison Ford with a fork made of Jeff Goldblum. Why the Vatican should beatify such an annoying twunt is a mystery, so let’s say a prayer to Saint Sough.

SAINT GINA is the Patron Saint of the Muppet Orifice. Gina looks down kindly on the cavernous buttholes of Elmo, Kermit and Gonzo, whenever they are empty of muppeteer wrists, limping forward through lack of support, looking like they are attempting to fellate their felt cocks. Her sister, Katherine, is the Patron Saint of Kermit Spunk.

2 thoughts on “Thought Vomit #56: ft. Bless You

  • June 28, 2009 at 3:07 pm
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    Why oh why is this not blogged?
    IMO, Absolute proof there is no god, for if there was he would peer through an internet cloud addressing the holder of the keys to the interweb machine (who I believe to be Saint Patrick of Mower, whereas Saint Google is the Saint of grass-cutting – confusing, huh?) to send, with haste, an auto-Blogger-log-in to … Read moreSimon,So that these very words will appear on an interweb blog … automatically.
    And it shall pass that peoples from around the world will go seek this blog and leave comments at the foot of each thread (not all peoples of course, some though, maybe just the ones with hair in unusual places, or those that keep an odd shoe for ‘personal reasons’)

  • October 24, 2009 at 2:49 pm
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    It is now.

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