NOT OFTEN QUOTED

We may possibly be best defined, not by our visible wealth or what we wear, but by what we say or what we have committed to a document. [Tough that on the fame drenched simpletons such as Posh and Becks.] Damn! I must be proper fucked. Do I care? Not very much. That’s not apathy. The fact is I am something of a literary rogue, so lock up your brain’s thought daughters.

Quite able to charm and soothe I choose instead, as I think fit, to court confrontation, rape your virgin apathy, enjoy a brief dalliance with it, shoot my load and move on. Awake now? You should be- it is a fact that ejaculate always stings myopic eyes like merry hell.

'Ghastly God is late again, her love is vastly overrated.' Mmm. I wrote that. It defines me well.

I so love it, the lingering controversy- the Holy Roman Church infested with cassock lifters, the C-of-E wringing white knuckle hands over Women Bishops, Gay Bishops and [waiting in the wings] Transgender Bishops who might finally add a certain theatrical frissons to the patently silly act of being frocked or, more correctly, ‘putting on drag’ or ‘cross-dressing’. And in the bosom of these faiths and the vast majority of all religions there reside well woven nests of fundamental vipers- the Bigoted Sexist Bishops, the majority of whom are black asps, who will not ever desist in hissing their unspiritual poison. Schism is inevitable. Ayes to the right, Gay nays to the left. The rotten snakes. Yes. I am anti-theist, a faithist, but I am not a racist- my partner of twenty four years is a beautiful human being and half-caste. We sleep together, weep together, have consensual man-on-man sex together.

Christ may not have had at his disposal an equivalent word in Aramaic for ‘frottage’, but my guess is he would have understood this phenomenally pleasant sensation and maybe he would even have engaged in it with any one of his disciples. Could Judas have been a spurned bum chum whose jealousy wrought such mythic grief?

Even the majestic Massai of the present day turn passionately bi-curious when off hunting- an all male enterprise [like most religions] where, as per tradition, cunt is never on offer but nubile boys are. Besides which, on every date I’ve ever made with this flighty deity I’ve either been dumped or got fed up waiting. I am no longer intrigued by the empty promise of some holistic orgasm from this call-girl of the universe. Get real. If I were a choirboy I’d be sorely tempted, out of sheer boredom, to spank my bishop during evensong. The answer, as it is was written, sits in your own hands or hastily borrowed handkerchief.

PS

Do investigate the natural history of snails. They are able, in the absence of members of the opposite sex, to reproduce by fucking themselves. [Relatively uncharted porn-film waters.] I am told the sinning beasts are simply delicious with a buttery garlic sauce. Your idiosyncratic God just has to be a woman, GLBT to boot, a chef de cuisine, and she/he is nothing if not fiendishly inventive. Fuck! According to you she even made me. Call it an own goal if you like, a dribbling error by the perfect one. Bon appétit.