Dear
Bulletin,
What
the **** is going on up here? The other day I could have
sworn that I saw a set of dirty-great horns sprouting
forth from the hands of God. Chuff me. Has something got
into the manna supply? We should be told.
Still,
it could have been worse - thank goodness the same thing
didn't happen to my good chum Onan :-)
Yours
Habakkuk
Dear
God,
Even
though I am still somewhat confused as to real reason for
destroying Jericho and the subsequent vicious slaughter
of 99.9% of the inhabitants, many thanks for sending the
earthquake at just the right moment. If the truth be told,
I don't think that my embrochure would have lasted much
longer. - I felt worse than the participants in 'Touch
the Truck'! And I'm sure that my trumpet had a leak. Also,
would it be possible to arrange for our marching band-a-thon
record attempt to make it into the Guinness Book of
Records?
Thanks
Joshua
ps
That Rahab the Harlot's a big slice of foxy totty isn't
she!
Dear
Bulletin,
I
wonder if I can use the pages of your esteemed organ to
ask a question. Does anyone up here know what the pedals
on my harp are for? They don't seem to work the same as
the pedals on my cloud.
Ta
Jack
the Ripper
Dear sir,
May I use
the auspices of your publication to clear up a hoary old
chestnut? It appears that for nearly two-thousand years
the details surrounding certain occurrences - on a planet
not too many light-years from this writers fluffy cloud -
as reported by my acquaintance Mark have been the cause
of much confusion . Although suffering from a gargantuan
'chunder fountain' hangover at the time he assures me
that the details are as clear as next weeks super-nova
three stars along from Alpha Centauri. Anyway here goes.
He tells me, and this can be put on record, that the
order and description of events was, in fact, as follows:
1. On
Sunday morning myself, Mark, Salome, Jim's mum Mary
and Stumpy - a comedy stoat juggler from Tel Aviv -
all staggered down, after the previous evenings rabbi
and harlots party, to the cave garden round the back
of Pilate's municipal midden.
2. We
selected and entered an empty cave so that we could
continue the festivities. Mark, being an experienced
news hack, had been able to get his hands on a
supermarket trolley full of Roman Extra Strength
lager, some Lambrusco, a movie bag of otters spleens
and some Babycham. Also, Salome had managed to 'permanently
borrow' a few bottles of barley wine, and a bucket of
wolf-nipple chips from the party. (Stumpy said that
Salome was such a mind-numbing slice of foxy totty
that: "One day some guy's really going to lose
his head because of her.")
3. In
the cave we settled down to some hard-core liquid
brain-damage. Which was when I came up with a good
idea for a super prank. I suggested that if anyone
came by and entered the cave we would play a wicked
joke on them. Everyone agreed. Well, it was the first
of April after all!
4. By
now it was daylight, and our first 'customer' was
passing by. Mark made sure that we were all well
hidden, fluffed up his sunday best toga - it would
make him look much bigger. As luck would have it,
Matthew, the persian carpet design-technician came
into the cave. He was looking to take a quick dump.
Mark, jumped out from the camouflage of a shadow and
proclaimed with his loudest and best theatrical voice:
"The man you seek is in Galilee!" Matthew, mid
strain, turned a ghastly shade of grey, let out a
huge yelp of surprise and fled with his badly stained
under-garments round his ankles. We laughed like
drains. A wild goose-chase to Galilee, ha ha.
5. Next
to enter cave was Luke the gravedigger. He had come
into cave to partake of his breakfast. This time both
Mark and Stumpy jumped out and shouted: "The man
you seek has gone to Emmaus!" Luke was so
surprised that the kebab on which he was chewing shot
out of his mouth and hit the wall on the opposite
side of the cave, narrowly missing Jim's mum. None of
us had ever seen a gravedigger move so fast. Bingo
and strike two! Oh, how we laughed. A sixty furlong
wild goose-chase.
6. Our
last 'visitor' was John the chief fish-gutter. I
think that he must have popped into the cave to get
out of the sun - boy, did he 'hum' - if you know what
I mean. Again Mark and Stumpy leapt swiftly out of
the shadows. They shouted: "The man you seek has
gone fishing!" at the top of their voices. John
the fish-gutter sprang to his feet and shot out of
the cave like a jellyfish out of a ballista. We
laughed our socks off. He could have fled anywhere
from the Med to the Red! Seas that is.
7. It
was agreed that since we had run out of lager, wolf-nipple
chips and badgers eyelids we would all make our
separate ways home. It had been a great night out and
fun was had by all. Mark told us that he would write
up the events of the morning in his diary and show us
all later. Which he did.
Well, that's
how it really happened. Would it be possible to get God
to change the record, put things straight and clear up
all the confusion? I would love to think that at least
one accurate account of what transpired wouldn't go amiss.
Yours
Mary
Magdelene
Dear Editor,
I would
like to let all the Bulletin readers know of a party, a
bit of a bash, a knees-up that I am having on my cloud
next Friday night. If readers could bring their own beer
and BBQ Fritos, that would be excellent. During the
course of the evening we will be looking over the edge of
my cloud and having a good laugh at all the tormented
souls 'down there'. We will be holding a competition to
see who can best aggravate the lost souls below with the
best 'shout of praise'. But don't choose 'Praise be to
God', 'Suffer for all eternity you damned heretics!' or 'hot
down there is it?' - because they have all been taken. So
don't forget, Cloud number 2,767,827,111, next friday
evening, 7:30 for 8, bring a bird and a bottle. And some
Fritos - none of those chipmunk sphincter chips please,
and definitely
no manna.
Cheers
St. Thomas
Aquinas
Dear
Bulletin,
I
wonder if I can use the pages of your esteemed organ to
ask a question. Does anyone up here know what the pedals
on my cloud are for? They don't seem to work the same as
the pedals on my harp.
Thanks
Jim
Jones (Rev)