Flash Fiction #280

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

UNFOUNDED OPINIONS

Once, I was concerned about what other people thought, and thought of me – principals, parents, politicians, priests and preachers.  When I grew older and wiser – and entered elementary school – I realized that, no matter how smart they are, everyone has one blind spot, where their grip on reality is tenuous at best.  The further from reality, the more desperate and strident they are.

Because I would not blindly accept her religious claims, a Christian therapist suddenly accused me of watching porn and masturbating.  Her problem is not my problem.  I did not descend to insults.  I merely rose above hers.

***

If you’d like to join the Friday Fictioneers fun, go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site, and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

’21 A To Z Challenge – U

 

 

I want to believe as many true things, and as few false things, as I can.
I want my internal, mental world-view to match observed reality as closely as possible.

The wife claims that, in the last 5 or 10 years, I have become intolerant and nasty toward religion and Christianity.

I think that it’s just that I’ve been more and more exposed to people who believe – and want me to believe – religious positions based on observably false claims, and I’m just getting more chances to express my discontent.

The wife’s Catholic Father died of cancer when she was 13.  He was sick for 5 years.  His teen-aged children cared for him for a year, but he was moved to the Catholic hospital, and given palliative care for 3 years.  Hospices did not exist back then, and hospitals finally realized that they could not afford to take up space with someone who would not recover.  He was discharged, to die at home.

At the end of the fifth year, he was terminal.  Four times, the local Catholic priest had to put on his cassock, and come over in the middle of the night, to give him last rites.  The first time, he rallied.  Two weeks later, the priest was back with another serving of last rites.  Again, he rallied.  Two weeks later, the tired priest made a third late-night house-call.  Once more, he rallied, but the end was inevitable.

The wife told me that, on his final visit, the priest gave her Father, not the last rites, but

EXTRA MUNCTION

I had been exposed in my youth to Baptist, Presbyterian, United, Pentecostal and Anglican, but not much Catholic.  I knew that The Church had all kinds of rites and rituals, and amulets, and potions, and spells, but I’d never heard of MUNCTION.  I asked, “What the Hell is munction?  Why did he need any, much less, extra??  Is it some kind of herbal remedy, or an opiate to ease his suffering??”

“I don’t know, but he must have needed it, because the priest gave him some extra.”   😯

Years later, I was reading a book about a Catholic who was dying, and the priest attended him, to give him

Extreme UNCTION

noun Roman Catholic Church.
anointing of the sick.
From: unction
an act of anointing, especially as a medical treatment or religious rite.
an unguent or ointment; salve.
something soothing or comforting.

I can’t fault the wife.  Shortly after that, she left the Church because she asked questions that they wouldn’t/couldn’t answer, so she didn’t get the complete indoctrination into the arcane, magical, mystical, mythical, mumbo-jumbo.  I have talked to other people who have been Catholics all their lives, but are no better informed about the Church’s tenets and ceremonies.  From the wife’s aggressive defense, even half a century later, I don’t think that she’s shed all the propaganda, but has obvious discomfort at my criticisms and doubts.

I am strangely reminded of the ‘60s British comedy movie, Carry On Doctor, which revolves around a hospital ward, with 8 stereotypical English males.  One is the brash, loud-mouthed know-it-all, who irritates fellow patients and staff alike.  Finally, a long-suffering nurse tells him to roll on his stomach, and get up on his knees.  She is going to take his temperature rectally.

He hoists his butt into the air, and something slender, round and cool is inserted.  Almost immediately, The Matron enters the ward, and demands to know from him, why his jiggly bits are hanging out in the breeze.  He says, “Have you never seen a man having his temperature taken?”  She replies, “Yes.  Many times.  But never with a daffodil!”   😯  😳  Just go along with it, because someone who claims to have authority, tells you to do something ultimately meaningless, no matter how foolish you look in the end.

It is difficult to take Christian Apologists, and their claims and arguments, seriously, when it appears obvious that there is something going on behind their…. back, and they have no idea that it’s happening, or what it is.

Comedy Is Going To The Dogs

One day an old woman walked into a shop and got some dog food.  She went to pay for it and the cashier said, You can’t buy that dog food, we need evidence that you have a dog, so she brought in her dog and she got the dog food.

The next day the same old lady went to get some cat food and the cashier said, You can’t have that cat food, we need evidence that you have a cat, so she went home and got her cat and she got the cat food.

Next day the same old lady went in again and she had a box.  She told the cashier to put her finger in it, so she did.  She said it felt warm and soft.  The little old lady then said, now you’re satisfied, can I have some toilet paper please!

***

Mom and Dad were trying to console Susie whose dog, Skipper, had recently died.
“You know,” Mom said, “it’s not so bad.  Skipper’s probably up in Heaven right now, having a grand old time with God.”
Susie stopped crying and asked, “What would God want with a dead dog?”

***

A woman is having an affair during the day while her husband is at work. Her nine-year-old son comes home unexpectedly, sees the illegal lovers and hides in the bedroom cupboard to watch. Then the woman’s husband unexpectedly comes home.

She hides her lover in the cupboard, not realizing that her little boy is in there already. The little Boy says: “Dark in here.”
The Man says: “Yes, it is.”
Boy: “I have a soccer ball; do you want to buy it?”
Man: “No, thanks.”
Boy: “My dad’s outside, I’ll call him if you don’t buy it!”
Man: “OK, how much?”
Boy: “$100.”

A few weeks later it happened again, and the boy and the lover were in the cupboard together again.
Boy: “Dark in here.”
Man: “Yes, it is.”
Boy: “I have soccer boots.”
The Man, remembering the last time, asks the boy: “How much?”
The Boy says: ”$500.”
The Man says: “Fine, I will buy them.”

A few days later, the Father says to the boy: “Grab your ball and boots, let’s go outside and have a game.”
The Boy says: “I can’t, I sold them for $ 600.”
The Father says: “That’s terrible to overcharge your friends like that… $ 600 is way more than those two things cost.  I’m going to take you to church and make you confess your “SINS.”

They go to church and the father makes the little boy sit in the confession booth and he closes the door.
The Boy says: “Dark in here.”
The Priest says: “Don’t start that shit again!”

***

A newspaper reporter was writing a feature story about prison life and was interviewing one of the prisoners. “Do you watch much television here?”

“Only the daytime shows,” the inmate said. “At night we’re locked in our cells and don’t see any television.”

“That’s too bad,” the reporter said, “But I do think it is nice that the warden lets you watch it in the daytime.”

“What do you mean, nice?” the inmate said. “That’s part of the punishment.”

Fibbing Friday – V

I’m not saying it’s her fault.  I’m just saying that I’m blaming her.  With the reluctant agreement of Pensitivity101, here’s another list of questions looking for entertaining answers.

  1. What is a skiff?
    A skiff is a lie that Environment Canada tells us. We’ll have a skiff of snow overnight. Meanwhile, I’ve still got six inches of yesterday’s ‘partly cloudy’ to shovel off the driveway.


2. What is a liner?

Liner is the stuff that drag-queen, RuPaul, paints on above his eyes, to confuse naïve, Radar O’Reilly-like corn-huskers who didn’t get to watch the ‘Crocodile Dundee’ movie in sex-education class.
3. What is a ferry?

See above – if you don’t already have your hands over your eyes.
4. What is a destroyer?

It’s a fat, arrogant, French-Canadian, wearing a Speedo, at any of the beaches in the southern United States.  Talk about having your hands over your eyes….  😳  Smoking like it’s mandatory, always complaining about some nit-picky detail, getting regular treatment and attention, but always demanding more – and in difficult-to-understand, heavily accented English.  COVID has been a boon to the Carolinas, Georgia, and Florida.  If that hadn’t occurred, Americans might have re-elected Trump, just to demand that he build a wall across the Quebec/US border.
5. What is a cruiser?

It’s a guy like my co-worker, Bob.  If you’re not going to have sex, you might as well get married, and not have it at home.  I think he has eye problems, or maybe ‘I’ problems.  There is not enough tequila in any bar, to drink this man sexually attractive.  He’s been turned down more times than the beds at Holiday Inn – and probably by the same women.  He said that he was thinking of signing up for the Bill Cosby School of Charm.  😈
6. What is a galleon?

A galleon is what I used to have someone else pump into my car to make it go, back before we went metric.  I lost Imperial measurement, but apparently gained an unpaid job of pumping my own gas.  It’s been 40 years, and I still don’t know how much I put in.  I just know it costs more.

When things go metric, prices rise.
Surprise, surprise, surprise, surprise!!
7. What is a pedlow?

Any one of a disturbing, disgusting group of Catholic priests who think that ‘pump-organ’ is not what the church music director plays.  They mistakenly believe that they are school teachers, and if sex education of altar-boys and choir girls is not on the curriculum, it’s on the agenda.
8. What is a kayak?

A kayak is an Eskimo sport-ute.  It’s what the Inuit use in the drive-thru at the Aklavik Tim Horton’s.  They have to be careful to hold the hot coffee with one hand in their fur-lined mitten, while they paddle away with the other.  Most kayaks are not yet fitted with cup-holders, and they can’t just set it down on any ice-floe, because it will melt right through.
9. What is a schooner?

As the most interesting man in the world, I don’t always drink beer, but when I do, I want a king-can of dark ale in a schooner fresh from the fridge or freezer.  In my tourist haven home-town, where I first drank draught/draft beer, it was served cold!  That’s what I got used to.

I once met a man from Kitchener, ON, my current home, who claimed to have conducted a scientific experiment.  He drank beer at every watering hole from here to Tobermory, 3-1/2 hours drive, at the tip of the Bruce Peninsula.  He claimed that the hotel bar in my home town served the coldest beer.  Much as I’d like to, I’ll never get the chance to visit England/Scotland, and try some great, but warm, beer.
10. What is a coracle?

She was a fortune-teller who lived in the Temple of Apollo, near the city of Delphi, in ancient Greece.  She was known as the coracle of Delphi.  The temple is a ruin now, but even back then, it had a leak in the basement.  It was built over a volcanic vent, where hot gases filtered up through a layer of soil containing crude oil.

She would sit on a stool over the vent, inhaling the fumes and chewing a laurel leaf – which was mildly psychoactive – like an Hellenic Eight-ball.  It was sort of like modern kids who huff model glue, or propane.  Then she would make crystal-clear, absolutely true predictions, like – If you drive a Jeep Rubicon, and vote for Trump, a great empire will fall.

Actually, there was a whole string of these coracles, like a tiny temporal armada – because constantly perching on a hot petroleum spill gave them the average life expectancy of a Madame Curie.  😯

Comedy Conversion Therapy

Muldoon lived alone in the Irish countryside with only a pet dog for company.  One day the dog died, and Muldoon went to the parish priest and asked, ‘Father, my dog is dead.  Could ya’ be sayin’ a mass for the poor creature?’

Father Patrick replied, ‘I’m afraid not; we cannot have services for an animal in the church.  But there are some Baptists down the lane, and there’s no tellin’ what they believe.  Maybe they’ll do something for the creature.’

Muldoon said, ‘I’ll go right away Father.  Do ya’ think £5,000 is enough to donate to them for the service?’

Father Patrick exclaimed, ‘Sweet Mary, Mother of Jesus!  Why didn’t ya tell me the dog was Catholic?

***

“Mommy, my turtle is dead,” little Freddie sorrowfully told his mother, holding the turtle out to her.

The mother kissed him on the head, then said, “That’s all right.  We’ll wrap him in tissue paper, put him in a little box, and then have a nice burial ceremony in the back yard.  After that, we’ll go out for an ice cream soda, and then get you a new pet.  I don’t want you….” Her voice trailed off as she noticed the turtle move.
“Freddie, your turtle is not dead after all.”
“Oh,” the disappointed boy said. “Can I kill it?”

***

A man kills a deer and takes it home to cook for dinner.
Both he and his wife decide that they won’t tell the kids what kind of meat it is, but will give them a clue and let them guess.
The dad said, “Well it’s what Mommy calls me sometimes.”
The little girl screamed to her brother, “Don’t eat it.  It’s an asshole!”

***

Teacher: “Kids, what does the chicken give you?”
Student: “Wings!”
Teacher: “Very good! Now what does the pig give you?”
Student: “Bacon!”
Teacher: “Great! And what does the fat cow give you?”
Student: “Homework!”

***

A little boy was swearing at birds that were eating the seeds he had just planted.  The minister hears this and goes over to the little boy.  “My son, there is no need to use the F word to chase the birds away.  Just say ‘shoo away birds’ and they will fuck off by themselves”

***

An explorer walked into a clearing and was surprised to see a pigmy standing beside a huge dead elephant.  “Did you kill that?” he asked.
The pigmy answered: “Yes”.
“How could a little bloke like you kill something as huge as that?”
“I killed it with my club” replied the pigmy.
“That’s amazing,” said the explorer.  “How big’s your club?”
The pigmy replied: “There’s about 150 of us”

Flash Fiction #261

PHOTO PROMPT© Roger Bultot

WHO’S THAT KNOCKING AT MY DOOR?

I took Psychology as a major, and got a job as an Uber-Eats driver.  The two fit like pliers handles.  The most intriguing are hotels/motels.  I knock on the door and often get, Who is it?  I wanna say, it’s your damned pizza.  Who were you expecting?

With a glimpse inside some rooms, the answer might be – a hooker, Border Patrol, irate management, FBI, an exorcist priest, or all of the above.  Many of the paranoid use the peephole.  Sometimes I put my eye about an inch from the lens.  Once, I had to slide the pizza in vertically.

***

I’m keeping notes.  I’m pretty sure there’s a bestseller in there somewhere.  😉  😯

***

If you’d like to join the fun, go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

Click the title to hear The Genies do another oldie but moldy goldie.

Smitty’s Loose Change #11

Smitty's Loose Change

Mad Men

BecelCeleb

Marketers/advertisers are experts at using images and words which make you believe that their products have qualities and abilities that they really don’t. Becel is a well-known brand of margarine. An Ontario food chain has named their house brand, Celeb, an inspired, but possibly illegal, turn of phrase.

They originally packed and sold it in yellow and white containers, virtually indistinguishable from the Becel, but when I went to download a photo, all I can find is the Blue, President’s Choice packaging. I suspect a restraining order.

Vertuo

Already the owner of a Keurig coffee-maker, the wife was convinced to buy a Nespresso coffee-maker. The model name is Vertuo. I believe that the name is supposed to make you think of ‘virtue’ – goodness, righteousness, excellence, admirable quality – for the machine, and perhaps ‘virtuous’ for the buyer – possessing the above qualities.

It also suggests ‘virtuoso’ – a person who has special knowledge or skill in a field. It even piggybacks on the Save The Planet/Eco movement, ‘vert/verde’ – meaning green. When I looked up the translation meaning of this Spanish word, I found that it means ‘spill.’ They’ve called their coffee-making machine a spill. 😆

IGNORANCE IS NOT BLISS

Mennonite

These are two excerpts from local marriage counselors who deal with Mennonites. They are greatly concerned with that ‘Go forth and multiply’ thing. These young folks were having trouble.

Now, talking to anyone, especially shy, withdrawn Mennonites, about the mechanics of sex, can be daunting. The first counselor finally elicited a detailed account. The young husband achieved an erection, and inserted it into his wife…. and left it there, until it went flaccid.

The counselor suggested that he withdraw it, and re-insert it, forcefully, rapidly, a number of times. At their next monthly counseling session, both of them offered profuse thanks.

Suspecting sterility, the second counselor went directly to having the husband go to a clinic to provide a semen sample. He came out of the washroom with the sample vial full of a yellow liquid. 😳 He had been urinating inside his wife, thinking that that was how to impregnate her.

***

Our writing is never finished, only temporarily abandoned. We write, because one life is not enough for us.

***

Mighty Carlin Has Struck Out

I recently won another argument with George Carlin. It wasn’t hard. He’s been dead for a couple of years. He liked to riff on English usage, and the Catholic Church. The two topics came together when he wanted to talk about priests taking a vow of celibacy. “No they don’t!” he insisted, “Celibacy only means that you’re not married. They take a vow of chastity.”

No they don’t!! I don’t know how the ex-Catholic thought that the Church had got it wrong all these years. They don’t care if a priest screws everything in the parish, including the goat. That’s all covered by the Ten Commandments, and can be fixed with a quick confession. The Hierarchy is only concerned that there are no legal heirs left behind who might have a claim on any estate, which they feel belongs to them. Archon – 2
Carlin – 0

 

’19 A To Z Challenge – G

AtoZ2019

Letter GWhere did it all start to go wrong??! I blame it on reading Mad Magazine as an impressionable youngster. Mad satirized society, politics, entertainment, and much more. While it was full of silliness, it was still thinking man’s humor. When it achieved commercial success, it was quickly imitated by the likes of Cracked, and Eh magazines. Full of Adam Sandler-like fart jokes, they didn’t last long, and folded. Mad is still publishing after almost 70 years.

One of the ongoing humor bits, was the “translation” of foreign words and phrases.

Gott mit uns – I found my winter gloves
Deutschland uber alles – Alice got run over by a Volkswagen
Mare nostrum – Mary can’t play the guitar
Ad hoc – I had to pawn some of my stuff
Honi soit qui mal y pense – Honey, why did you spank Malcolm?
Sic transit gloria mundi – Gloria threw up on the bus, early this week

This brings us to the translation of this week’s foreign word – actually, a German name, which many local people carry

Gottschalk

Gottschalk – an elementary-school teacher 😉

I ran into this name in a book about people’s delusions. He was a medieval priest who helped raise an army of 100,000 men in Germany, to go on a crusade. Through poor preparation and planning, as well as internal strife, only a handful lived to even get as far as Constantinople, leaving a trail of death and destruction through several countries, including Hungary, with at least that many ‘civilians’ dead behind them.

Always interested in name values, I plugged it into Google Translate. I regret the fact that Dictionary.com can no longer afford to maintain their translation service. It was the best translator I’ve found. When I just enter ‘Google translate’ into the computer toolbar, I always get Bing Translate at the top of the page – terrible site – couldn’t translate a wish into an action.

For those of you who have never used Google Translate – I assume, most of you – when you begin typing text in, it immediately begins translation. I knew that ‘Gott’ equals ‘God,’ so I wasn’t surprised to see that quickly pop up. I thought that the compound word was possessive – Gotts chalk = God’s ?????, but the word ‘schalk’ has a meaning of its own.

As I continued to type in the S, C, H, A, L, suddenly the translation was God scarf, showing how the Anglo-Saxon word ‘schal’ became the English word ‘shawl.’ I typed in the final K, and got knave, rogue, instigator, troublemaker. For a busybody Christian, whose religious fervor was instrumental in causing the deaths of almost a quarter million people for no benefit, I find the name’s word value of ‘God’s little shit-disturber,’ painfully appropriate.

Don’t wait to stop back, Hoss, but if you do, I’ll have something for the letter H in two weeks. 😀

Laugh – It’s The Christian Thing To Do

Nun

Two nuns are doing their grocery shopping.

As they pass the cooler full of beer, one nun says longingly to the other one, “A cold beer would go down great tonight!”

“Indeed,” the other nun replies, “but how can we show up with beer at the check-out counter?”

“Don’t worry, I have a plan,” the first nun answers. “Grab a six-pack.”

The cashier is surprised when he sees the beer, but the one nun is ready with an explanation.

“We use the beer to wash our hair,” she says, “At the convent, we call it ‘Catholic shampoo.’”

Without hesitation the cashier bends down, grabs a package of pretzels, and throws it in one of the nuns’ grocery bags, saying “The curlers are on the house.”

***

A man suffered a serious heart attack and had an open heart bypass surgery. He awakened from the surgery to find himself in the care of nuns at a Catholic Hospital.

As he was recovering, a nun asked him questions regarding how he was going to pay for his treatment. She asked if he had health insurance.

He replied, in a raspy voice, “No health insurance.”

The nun asked if he had money in the bank.

He replied, “No money in the bank.”

The nun asked, “Do you have a relative who could help you?”

He said, “I only have a spinster sister, who is a nun.”

The nun became agitated and announced loudly, “Nuns are not spinsters! Nuns are married to God.”

The patient replied, “Send the bill to my Brother-in-law.

***

ON THE OTHER HAND

I was walking across a bridge one day and I saw a man standing on a ledge, about to jump off. So I ran over and said, “Stop! Don’t do it!”
“Why shouldn’t I?” he said.
“Well, there’s so much to live for.” “Like what?” “Well, are you religious?” He said yes. I said, “Me too! Are you Christian or Buddhist?” “Christian.” “Me too! Are you Catholic or Protestant?”
“Protestant.” “Me too! Are you Episcopalian or Baptist?”
“Baptist.” “Wow, me too! Are you Baptist Church of God or are you Reformed Baptist Church of God?”
“Reformed Baptist Church of God.” “Me too. Are you Reformed Baptist Church of God, Reformation of 1789 or Reformed Baptist Church of God, 1915?”
He said, “Reformed Baptist Church of God, Reformation of 1915.”
I said, “Die, heretic scum!!” and pushed him off the bridge.

***

Priest

The priest was preparing a dying man for his voyage into the great beyond.

Whispering firmly, the priest said, “Denounce the devil! Let him know how little you think of his evil!”

The dying man said nothing.

The priest repeated his order.

Still the dying man said nothing.

The priest asked, “Why do you refuse to denounce the devil and his evil?”

The dying man said, “Until I know where I’m heading, I don’t think I ought to aggravate anybody.”

***

One pleasant afternoon, a Priest and a Nun were out golfing. The father deferred to the Nun on the first hole, and she hit a nice ball towards the green. The Father tees up, then smacks the ball into the woods. “Damn it! #$*^&%$#%^@$# %#&^%&!$, I MISSED!” he cries. “Father!” says the Nun, “You should watch your language. The Lord will not like it.”

The second hole comes up. The father tees off, and the ball once again goes sailing into the woods. “Damn it! #$*^&^%$#%^@$#, I MISSED!” he cries. “Father!” says the Nun, “Watch what you say! It is Blasphemy!”

On the third hole, the father again tees up his ball. Once again, the ball sails wide, this time landing in the water hazard. “Damn it! #$*^&^%$#%^@$#, I MISSED!” he cries. As the Nun starts to speak, a great bolt of lightning sails down from the sky and strikes the Nun, reducing her to ash. From the sky comes a booming voice: “Damn it! #$*^&^%$#%^@$#, I MISSED!”

***

A small-town preacher was known for getting around town on his bicycle.
One day, a neighbor noticed him walking and asked him about his missing bike.

The preacher said, “Can you believe someone stole it?!”
The man replied, “I have an idea. On Sunday, give a sermon on the Ten Commandments. When you get to Thou Shalt Not Steal, really rail on it, and the thief is sure to feel guilty and return your bike.”
The preacher agreed and went on his way.

A week later, the neighbor again ran into the preacher, reunited with his bike.

“So the sermon worked, I see!”
The preacher answered, “Apparently so! I got to Thou Shalt Not Commit Adultery and remembered where I left my bike.”

The Same Sad Story

confession-box

The recent scandal of the Catholic hierarchy covering up sexual allegations against priests, and moving them from post to post, only shows that the problem is neither new, nor restricted to the Catholic Church.

The first time I heard about a serial child molester was about 1960.  The United Church of Canada had defrocked a minister named Russell D. Horsburg, after he had been convicted in Windsor, Ontario.  He was an equal opportunity pedo, willing to debauch both boys and girls.

One of the wife’s older sisters had left the Catholic Church, to wed a New Order Mennonite boy.  As a compromise, they attended and were married in a local United Church.  Always paranoid and defensive about leaving the Catholic Church, and anxious to justify her actions, she is the only person I personally know, who put her marriage certificate in a silver frame, and hung it on her living room wall for all to see.

After we got married in 1967, and had a child, we sometimes visited.  One evening, after a washroom trip, I stopped to examine the certificate.  Sure enough, it was signed by Reverend Russell D. Horsburg.  Hmmm, so he practiced his craft here, before the United Church slyly shipped him 300 miles down the highway, to an unsuspecting parish.

She suspiciously wanted to know what I was looking at.  I told her that her officiating minister was later jailed for pedophilia.

WELL, THAT DOESN’T MEAN THAT WE’RE NOT REALLY MARRIED!

No, but you’re probably lucky that he wasn’t still here in Kitchener, as your kids grew up.

Okay, I’ve described the problem.  Now it’s up to somebody (or somebodies) else to come up with a solution to it.  😳

Abuse