Bomb Throwing Pacifist

Dear Father Hamilton,
Priest Blogger #2
http://ragemonkey.blogspot.com/

Hooray for you, father! After this week's msot recent incident, I must say that I am so proud. Now those two young bucks will have to have sex without protection. That will sure teach those young sluts a lesson they will never forget: once you have unprotected sex, it's all downhill from there. Once they're forced to get an abortion or drop out of school to raise a child or two, they will certainly have learned that those fifteen minutes of pleasure were just not worth it and that the lifetime of shame they incurred for their one transgression will take all eternity to wipe away.

Although, I do think I saw a potential weakness in your plan, father. Are you absolutely SURE that your anti-condom crusade against safe sex would be effective by itself? I mean, you didn't keep your eyes on them at all times, right? What if, in a brief moment of brilliant, inspired, testosterone-induced clarity, they bypassed the potential embarassment of the priest in the pharmacy and headed down to the kitchen supply section? Saran wrap is easy to aquire, cheap, and lasts a lot longer. After all, try as we might to cook the numbers, balance the books, and waste taxpayer money, we still can't get those elitist "peer-reviewed" journals to say what we all know in our hearts to be true: that keeping kids uneducated and prophlactics-free are the only ways to keep them from reproducing.

In closing, keep up the good work, and God bless you in your quest to keep condoms out of the hands of society's youngest criminal element: horny teenagers. Yours I remain, &c.
Retrosexually,
Marc with a C

Not much of a reader, are you?

Now, the boy still purchased the condoms. And oddly enough, though he could have chosen another check-out lane, he stepped in line directly behind me. I would have thought he would prefer any line except the one I was standing in. So, though he still made the purchase, I hope and I pray that his last response to me is an indication that his conscience may eventually win out and he may even opt not to use what he has purchased (meaning, that he will opt not to have sexual intercourse as an unmarried young man). That may be unlikely, but one never knows. I hope my prayers to this effect may even aid in bringing about what might seem improbable.

Dear Layla,
On the contrary, you completely misjudge me. Far from not reading the post in its entirity, I actually read it two or three times and followed it up with a few more for good measure. But you see, there is where we encountered a problem. A very hard and unyielding problem.

You see, the problem isn't that I didn't read the post, because as I mentioned above, I did. The problem was more physical. As I read more and more into the paragraphs detailing the lone priest's heroic stand against the forces of teen horniness, I too felt my spirts enflamed by the passion the holy man's wrath. Before I could stop myself, I regret to inform you that my Swiss Guardsman also became aroused and, far from lying passively in the sight of his enemies, stood tall and proud and chose to confront the adversaries of the church I read about on the screen.

The problem of course is that the Swiss Guardsman, like any good soldier, needs supplies and nourishment if he is to say in good fighting form. Thus in order to maintain himself in his agressive stance, he immediately diverted the supply lines of my corpus in an attempt to fill his most important need: a fresh supply of blood. Needless to say, this additional drain proved to be too much and in an attempt to keep the Church's most loyal defender on his toes, my brain made the ultimate sacrifice and flushed its entire supply of blood down to the proud warrior, thus robbing it of it's most important asset as it tried to absorb the words on the screen.

Needless to say, I am horrified by this lapse on my part. I just pray that you will not judge me too harshly. After all, I would ask you to try and stand in my shoes, but even then you would not fully comprehend the true enormity of the situtation. After all, you don't have a Swiss Guardsman of your own. Yours I remain, &c.
Retrosexually,
Marc with a C.

I once received an email from a student which had a cute signature which was probably intended for his friends rather than his college lecturer. It was something along the lines that his brain and his penis could not function simultaneously.

I have two questions:
Guess which organ did most of his thinking?
Were you that student?

I have neither need nor place to judge you at all. That you would speak in such a manner when addressing mixed company is proof enough that you are ensuring quite a Judgment for yourself, however.