Spatchcock ready for a grilling over chorister claims
Spatchcock: thinking about David's endz.
Hello again listeners, Ernest T Spatchcock servicing you once more, and it is a very uncomfortable one isn't it? As you may be aware, St Brenda's - an oasis of spiritual calm in this flesh-obsessed modern world of ours - has been dragged into the horrendous row which has embroiled the Catholic Church of late. I'm not talking about the Vatican's official acceptance last week that Pious VII's encyclical of 1812 - in which he stated that the world was an asymmetrical rhomboid - was wrong. No, I'm afraid I'm talking about our castrato chorister, David. It all started when I gave one of my regular morning homilies on Empire FM's Rude Thought For the Day.
I recalled the uplifting words of St Paul's Letter to the Philippians, which as regular listeners I know you're all very familiar with. Well, to cut to the end, word got round that I was just as familiar with David. In fact, talking of cutting to the end, that was very much the rude thought for the day which I was reflecting upon: the perfectly natural and non-sexy act of circumcision. But you know how the C of E faithful like to chunter on, and onwardly chunter they veritably did. By tea-time, I had performed an act of unspeakable depravity upon David's boyhood in the vestry after Evensong. By the next morning, I had paid him £10 not to report this to his mother and by the end of last week, I had colluded with my Bishop, The Unbelievably Reverend Duncan Teabags, to cover up the act for the next ten years. What a monster I have become, and it only takes a congregation of 19 to commit me to the eternal flames of justice!
Naturally I wanted to clear this unpleasant mess up, which is definitely not what I said to David, despite what a few wags were muttering under their breath during last Sunday's sermon. So I asked the delightful, uncommonly handsome boys at How Inappropriate if I might post an apology for the confusion on these illustrious pages. The mistake was actually that of an errant production trainee in the editing suite, who cut off my pre-recorded piece a little hastily. When listeners heard me declare that "I would like a nice piece of David", what they should have heard me say is "I would like a nice piece of David's mother, the deliciously skanky milf". As you can see, nothing could be simpler than the truth, which is why I felt the need to set the record straight.
That was the worst thing I've ever heard!
So I wanted to say that I am deeply sorry that I have been mistaken for a Catholic, who are obviously afforded the divine right to sodomise children and pay for their silence, and whose Pope is responsible for issuing an order that all child abuse claims had to be investigated in secret and remain confidential for at least a decade. Some more unforgiving critics have said that Benedict XVI bears a striking resemblance to a squashed Statler from The Muppets channelling Emperor Palpatine from Star Wars, but as far as I'm concerned, he's just a loveable Nazi. Either way, horrific paedophilia may be the prerogative of Catholic priests everywhere, but I need to assure my parish that my pecadillos are strictly limited to BBWs, golden showers, DP, shaved Asians and cling-film bondage. And that's the slightly boring truth, listeners.
May you all have a blessed Feast of Bellends.
Rude Thought for the Day
Unq. Rev'd Ernest T Spatchcock in da mo'fo house
Hi-de-ho Jesus people, and it really is the Good News from Empire FM this week as we announce the joyous return of Ernest T Spatchock from the Bahamas, where he has been ministering to his tender (and we do mean under-age) flock of wayward souls. Today the Vicar of St Brendas has a homely homily for all you filthy perverts on the very real subject of marriage. Apparently it's a good thing.
And now on Empire FM, Rude Thought For The Day, with the Unquestionably Reverend Ernest T Spatchock
Rude Thought For Christmas Day
Greetings God-botherers, and welcome to a festive edition of your favourite radio programme for smutty meditation: yes it's the Slightly Reverend Dr Wilfred Mimsy, on a subject close to his lips ... er, heart. That's right listeners, it's your Rude Thought For Christmas Day!
How rude, Vicar!
Cup of Pee Vicar? Introducing the Slightly Filthy Dr Wilfred Mimsy
Sl. Rev'd Mimsy: bringing sexy back to St Titmus.
This week, we are delighted to add a slightly more savoury and certainly more spiritually fulfilling column to the swathes of purile innuendo-laden smut-bloggery that regular How Inapropriate readers are used to, courtesy of the good priests on Empire FM's Rude Thought For The Day. The Unqestionably Reverend Ernest T Spatchcock is unfortunately away, tending to the needs of his party-loving 'Young Evangelicals' flock in the Bahamas, so this week we bring you a family-friendly festive homily courtesy of the Slightly Reverend Dr Wilfred Mimsy. Now for Christ's sake put that away.
And now on Empire FM, Rude Thought For The Day, with The Slightly Reverend Dr Wilfred Mimsy.
Good Um Bongo, readers, and, do you know, they do drink it in the Congo. As the days draw in and our thoughts turn to scoring a quarter of tasty bud in to blaze merrily through the winter nights, I often wonder what the Good Lord would have made of some of the homely comforts that surround us this Christmastide, had he been born into our world today. How would the infant Christ, in today's venacular, get down on it in his crib? And it is with that question that I turn to my text for today's column, taken from the the Video of Spunky Monkey Productions, Volume 12, Disc 2: "I'm so horny, I'd really love to fist a midget."
I'll admit that it isn't a traditional biblical passage that directs my thoughts this week, but it certainly did get the old Mimsy cogs a-whirling, readers. You see, this Thursday, when I had finished replanting my Fragrant Spreader pansies in the St Trinians Rectory garden and prepared my sermon for the Sunday Family Eucharist, I went inside and watched a few hours of hardcore pornography in delightful High Definition. And this line - spoken in the opening scene by the heroine of a particularly gripping edition of the Spunky Monkey Wankarama Box Set, Midget Gangbang 7 - brought home to me that many of us have, in a very real sense, never actually fisted a midget.
Churchwarden Lech: Forgive her father, for she has sinned.
I speak with some authority on this matter, because I discussed the issue with Miss Lech, our wonderful Polish churchwarden, and proud owner of St Trinian's ample Community Chest, and she reliably informed me that she has never so much as rubbed off a person of decreased stature, still less engaged them in the act of starfish arm-diving. And if you cast an eye over the Gospel According to Mark, I'm pretty sure that the same can be said of the disciples of Jesus; even Judas. But then again, is what the star of this beguiling production really saying is: aren't we all so desperate for God's love that we wouldn't all share five-fingered pleasure with a short-arse, given half the chance?
And maybe also, readers, we need to look at it from the other perspective. After all, we all love a bit of cream pie action, not to mention water sports, or indeed drunk teen spanking. But what must it feel like to be the little fellow? Not much of a look in at the party most of the time I'd guess. He probably has to finish himself off with a lubed marigold in the utility room when the rest of the averagely tall guests have had their fill. And that's very much the challenge for us, in this madcap modern world. We all need to lift our height-restricted neighbour up, and make sure that he gets a piece of the action: extend the Christian hand of love to the tiny buttocks of loneliness. That's something for us all to think about in the run-up to Christmas, and indeed in the New Year, should they bring out Midget Gangbang 8, and we certainly hope that they do.