Before I get on with the post, just a quick Happy Birthday! to Jim over at TheMovieWhore.com.  Have a good one my friend.  I will have a beer for ya later!

Now.  On with the post.

I have mentioned once or 19 times before that me and religion, well, we aren’t the best of friends.  Religion is like the younger sibling who gets all the attention when it should be all about me.  So we don’t talk.  Hell, I don’t even send him a birthday card. 

In fact, as far as I am concerned, the sibling known as “religion” owes me. 

Strangely, I think he just paid up.  Well, lets just say I am re-evaluating.  OK, so I wont be going over to his house every Sunday for nibbles of bread and a glass of ribena anytime this lifetime, but I am thinking of at least entertaining him.  Or stealing his ideas.

Here is why:

A Bulgarian priest is to go under police surveillance – because of a field of cannabis he claims is a gift from God.

Or the even more fun paragraph:

He is a man of the cloth and so a lot of people don’t want to think badly of him but frankly if someone has a huge crop of cannabis in their back garden it’s highly unlikely they are just sitting there admiring its horticultural properties.

Yes, Father Stoned-a-lot (Lancelot’s brother?) believes that it is part of God’s gift of nature. 

Oh, and the police have never seen him cultivating it. 

DUH!  Of course they haven’t.  They watch all the roads for him coming along and rolling his joints, but if they think about it, watch the skies.  He is damn well flying in.  He is high as a kite.  Or maybe the policey men are also “Enjoying their job” a little too much?  Lets be honest.  How many people could really do the job of surveillance on a huge field of weed? 

“For this job, you will be required to sit and stare at a huuuuuuuge field of weed.” I think everyone in the world knows someone who would wet themselves in anticipation.  Actually, I just wet myself, but that was because I reeeeeally need to pee, but want to get this post out.  Yes, I mess myself for you people.

Now.  As I said, I am thinking of borrowing this way of thinking.  But I don’t smoke.  And I don’t take drugs (yup, Mr Clean I am).  So I am thinking weed is maybe not the way forward.  But I need to use this “God said so!” thing and use it to my advantage.

Alcohol.  I can use alcohol!  And I don’t mean rubbing alcohol, as that really hurts when you drink it.

Well, so I read in an online science article somewhere.  Once.  In between my “other” surfing habits.  OK OK…fine…I clicked the link by accident while searching for “Rubbing myself while drinking alcohol”.  I haven’t been back there since, and have taken all science related items out of my favourites.  I promise to not try and sound sexy again.  OK?  Sorry.  Can we move on?  You are making me uncomfortable with all your unimpressed looks.

But anyway, I have taken up walking in to shops, picking up as much alcohol as I can, and leaving.  You don’t have to pay for it.  This “God” chap wanted me to have it.  I know this because he put it there, and gave me taste buds that enjoy it.  He didn’t invent money or any other currency system.  OK, so I can’t say that for definite.  I break in to a sweat every time I walk near a bible, so reading it may cause me to combust.  And when I am full of alcohol, that is just going to be messy. 

Actually…that is a valid point.  He created a book that turns me to flames, and then gives me a drink that fuels the fire! 

Stuff it.  This religion lark is not for me.  I will pay for my hangovers.

Hang on.  He is also giving a gift that brings pain in the shape of a hangover?

And religion is supposed to be fun?

You can read about the PuffFather HERE

© 2008, Sy. All rights reserved.