Sunday, May 30, 2004
For Whom The Parsnip Tolls
Sundays are filled with pleasant reminiscences at the moment, as I'm still not able to perform my sermon duties at a church, because I don't have one at present.
So instead, when 10:30am comes, I sit down and recreate an entire service from memory. My memory is remarkable, and I am able to recall every little detail and nuance of the things that happened. I like to have much bell ringing during my service, and so I also re-enacted the Bells Tolling with my ginormous mouth (bigger than Steven Tyler's of Aerosmith!) ... and this had the unfortunate result of being knocked up by one of the maids in my hotel. Some guests, it seems, did not appreciate such 100dB piercing booms on a Sunday morning.
Today, I recreated one of my favourite services from 1997, shortly after the election of Tony Blair as the Prime Minister of the UK.
In it, I warned of people not to be taken away and swept aside by Tony's dashing good looks and uncanny ability to speak what everyone was feeling. I especially warned the Old Dears of this, as they were convinced that he was going to give them all free teeth, free wigs and free newspapers everyday, hand delivered by a local paperboy (paid no more than £1/hour!). The cheeky beggers only wanted everything free, even though Mevagissey Pensioners are well known across the UK for being some of the most affluent in the land!
They all want something for nothing. And later, as is proven, they all wanted a piece of the Parsnip for free, too. I should have charged the bastards to hear my Great Sermons. My wise words we cast upon them, but they largely ignored them, and only to their own peril, as was proved when many Old Dears were washed away in the floods of 2001! I had already warned them that night that they would not be able to sleep easy in their beds that evening! A forceful gush would take them away and cause great embarassment, shame and inconvenience!
Most of them thought I was talking about a sudden plague of incontinence and redoubled their underwear protection: most opting to wear several pairs of undergarments.
Alas, that wasn't much protection against the flash floods. Many of them were washed away over yonder Hill, never seen again. No doubt they now live in the wild, where there is no Meals On Wheels to keep them alive. Or an NHS to see to their dodgy hips! Or Tony Blair to promise them that things will only get better!
The Parsnip Is Wise! Ignore Him At Your Peril!
So instead, when 10:30am comes, I sit down and recreate an entire service from memory. My memory is remarkable, and I am able to recall every little detail and nuance of the things that happened. I like to have much bell ringing during my service, and so I also re-enacted the Bells Tolling with my ginormous mouth (bigger than Steven Tyler's of Aerosmith!) ... and this had the unfortunate result of being knocked up by one of the maids in my hotel. Some guests, it seems, did not appreciate such 100dB piercing booms on a Sunday morning.
Today, I recreated one of my favourite services from 1997, shortly after the election of Tony Blair as the Prime Minister of the UK.
In it, I warned of people not to be taken away and swept aside by Tony's dashing good looks and uncanny ability to speak what everyone was feeling. I especially warned the Old Dears of this, as they were convinced that he was going to give them all free teeth, free wigs and free newspapers everyday, hand delivered by a local paperboy (paid no more than £1/hour!). The cheeky beggers only wanted everything free, even though Mevagissey Pensioners are well known across the UK for being some of the most affluent in the land!
They all want something for nothing. And later, as is proven, they all wanted a piece of the Parsnip for free, too. I should have charged the bastards to hear my Great Sermons. My wise words we cast upon them, but they largely ignored them, and only to their own peril, as was proved when many Old Dears were washed away in the floods of 2001! I had already warned them that night that they would not be able to sleep easy in their beds that evening! A forceful gush would take them away and cause great embarassment, shame and inconvenience!
Most of them thought I was talking about a sudden plague of incontinence and redoubled their underwear protection: most opting to wear several pairs of undergarments.
Alas, that wasn't much protection against the flash floods. Many of them were washed away over yonder Hill, never seen again. No doubt they now live in the wild, where there is no Meals On Wheels to keep them alive. Or an NHS to see to their dodgy hips! Or Tony Blair to promise them that things will only get better!
The Parsnip Is Wise! Ignore Him At Your Peril!
