Mars muffin and cold milk.

There’s a massive chocolatey, gooey, and more importantly, moist party happening in my mouth.

You can come too, but it’s strictly bring your own muffin.

Watching the hot, severly hot, offensively hot bridesmaids having toe sucking contests with each other after several rounds of Jagerbombs, making me the referee.

Driving down the M6 yesterday and on the inside lane I noticed something in the outside lane that looked like something had been run over and squished.

When I got closer I could clearly see that it was a family of ducks, alive and well and very much not squished.  They were waddilng down the fastlane with not a bother on them.  Mammy duck with a trail of 5 or 6 little ducklings behind her.

I looked in my rear view mirror as I passed them and considered putting on the hazard lights to warn drivers behind me, but at 120kph, who’d have time to figure I was warning about a family of ducks?

The red car that had been pretty much up my arse from Athlone shifted into the outside lane to get ready to overtake me and in the process sent a mini tornado of fluffy feathers across the M6.

In slow motion I watched the lot of them become nothing more than a memory.

In fairness to the driver of the red car, he never flinched.  He could have caused an accident if he did.  Instead he wiped them out like a gang member over a hooker Grand Theft Auto style.

I didn’t know whether to be sad for the ducks, they didn’t know where they were, or sad for me.

I instantly wished I’d seen them earlier and smushed them into the tarmac like an ACME truck over Wile e Coyote.

I learned something about myself today and I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t like it.

I’m not going to go on about the abuse and the Ryan report that has quite rightly and understandably gotten so much press and web coverage over the last week or so.  Only because others have already done it much more eloquantly than I ever could.

But this story got my attention.

It goes on to say that priests have cautioned parents and family members of children receiving communion and confirmation.  They have set down a list of rules that must be adhered to.

What a fucking cheek, considering what the country is going through at the moment.

In a not so subtle way, they’ve just reinforced the notion that they want things done their way or it’s the fucking highway.

Fair enough.  If you want to lay down some rules, then so do I.  Bless me father, for you’re about to kiss my arse:

Parents are asked to arrive at least 10 minutes before the 11am start time and to switch off their mobile phones before entering the church – No recording devices may be used either, for fear they may be one day used in evidence.

Chewing gum is not allowed during the ceremony as it is “both disrespectful and bad manners” – by penalty of buggery.

No standing is allowed in the porches or at the back of the doors during Mass – it’s really hard for the collection plates to make it through stationary crowds.

Moreover, anybody leaving the church during the ceremony without good reason “will not be allowed back into the church until Mass is finished” – Raise your hand to go to the toilet, or get a note from the Bishop.

The letter also draws parishioners attention to the fact that worshippers had been “in and out for smokes” in previous years – I’m sure they’d prefer to stay inside, but they follow the law.  Take note.

No drink or food, except babies’ bottles, will be allowed in the church and any parents or family arriving with food will have it confiscated – you’ll spoil your appetite for those magic Jesus crackers they give out.

“People who persist in talking and making noise throughout the ceremony will be politely asked to leave,” the letter added – Like the religious orders politely asked to revisit the compensation deal?  Ask me to leave and I’ll hide behind PR for a week and then, maybe I’ll get back to you, but only if everyone else promises to too.

The priests have also banned families leaving their seats to take photographs during the ceremony. Two stewards will be enforcing the rules at the main door – I wouldn’t worry about this, what are the chances of every church in the country finding two people called Stewart?

These are a fucking joke and they serve only the notion that the church still demands that we do what they say or we can fuck off.

What would they do if parents stopped their children from receiving communion or confirmation?  What would happen if their churches were empty instead of people packing themselves in still willing to stomach the lies and ignorance?

Be a catholic, pray and practice your beliefs.  I wouldn’t dream of and can’t stop you from doing otherwise, if that’s what you choose.  It’s your right.  I don’t know the first thing about Catholicism, but I’ll bet a year’s money on the fact that no where in the bible does it say “Do what a priest tells you or you’ll go to hell”.

Whether it’s nation wide abuse, or petty little “rules”, they want us on a choke chain, not a leash.

Why do we keep taking it?

According to my grandmother, there are two professions that are guaranteed to provide money for life, priest and politician.  All that I’ve seen over the last week is both parties trying to hang on to as much of theirs as they can.

With any luck Fianna Fáil will take a beating in the elections, I think the church should take an absolute flogging in their aisles and pews.  You can vote with your ballot and teach the politicians, you can also vote with your feet and teach the churches.  Pray at home, confess to a member of your family of a close friend.  If you do go to church, keep your money in your pocket.  It’s called a donation, like a tip in a restaurant, it’s at your discretion.

I remember serving a priest in a bar a few years ago and he told me that if I didn’t listen to my customers, I’d be out of business.  He was right, but  I doubt this was the only piece of advice he preached but didn’t practice.

I’m rambling, this isn’t my usual topic of choice around these here parts, so forgive me.

I sincerely apologise if I have offended anyone who saw this as an attack on their religion/beliefs/values/practices, that wasn’t my intention.  I simply can’t understand why people still flock to a church or a religion run by people who allowed us to be abused for decades.

I just don’t understand it.

Maybe I’m the one who’s wrong?

Clarissa Explains it All was the program that introduced the world to the loveliness of Melissa Joan Hart.  Given the she’s just a year or two older than me, I more or less grew up watching her on TV.  I don’t mind admitting that I even knocked one out of a sneaky Saturday morning while watching her cheeky grin and filthy twinkly eyes lust after me.

She had the girl next door looks, which suited me fine because my actual girl next door looked like a bulldog’s scrotum being forced through chicken wire.

She was going through all the teenage woes with me, and this made it easier to interfere with myself while wondering what her hair smelled like, because she understood me.

I even wrote to the BBC and asked Jim to fix it for me to have a pair of her worn knickers, but I’m still awaiting reply.

Then the show was cancelled and I rebounded with the hound from next door resulting in a tetanus shot to my poor shredded member.

A wonderful thing happened, she came back as Sabrina the teenage witch.  She had magical powers, so all I had to do was write to Uncle Jim again and ask it that she use her powers to insert me into her.  I’m also still awaiting reply.

She was hot now, proper hot and I was old enough to appreciate proper hot, not just knock out a lazy batch of batter onto my duvet of a Saturday.  Although I still did speckle the sheets on occasion, and here’s why.

How lovely is she?  In a proper, Craggy Island Lovely Girl kind of way.  Just lovely.  She was still a couple of years older than me, but now I could appreciate the concept of the older lady.  Older ladies knew what to do with young men like me, and with her finger bulging with magical goodness, she could put it wherever she wanted to.

Filth.

I sometimes think about Clarissa/Sabrina/Melissa and wonder what happened.  She made so many seasons of Sabrina that she was a teenager by no stretch of the imagination.  The show did what so many successful teen shows had done and followed the main character to college.  But by this time, I was moving onto better things.  Willow in Buffy for one.

I still wonder what happened to her, she was in a Britney Spears video once and she was as sexy as ever in that.

I Googled her the other day and I got this image:

I should have left it at that and kept my sacred thoughts of how lovely she was, but I couldn’t help but trawl another couple of pages, and got this.

Some punk had gone and pregnafied her.  This is surely the work of some higher power as she is still a virgin.  I was totally shocked and horrified.  I was convinced that it was a cruel photoshop prank but email confirmation from the magazine not only told me that it was true, but that I was years behind in getting the news.

I could go on further about my complete and utter disgust, but I have to write another letter to Jim’ll Fix It.  This one’s going registered post.  I have the coat hanger, but he’s going to have to help me out with the time machine.