I assume that if you're an astronaut and you're afflicted with what people back many years ago used to call "the piles", the malady in those circumstances would be referred to "asteroids".
Yes?
As Pope and leader of the All John All The Time World Church (and even though that's two jobs, the Bored Of Elders of the AJATTWC refuses to listen to or acknowledge my argument to them, which makes the case for a double salary for me, based on having double responsibilities), I am frequently called upon by my faithful followers to provide advice, counsel, moral support and generally my opinion on many matters, both secular and spiritual. And up until recently, I have been able to avoid and ignore, ahh, excuse me, and so recently I decided to make, as a regular feature and part of my writings on the soothing balm of Johnism, an "advise column", to attempt to answer and in some way offer solace to some of those weary souls who have suffered the "slings and arrows of outrageous fortune" that life so often sends our way. (That was from Hamlet's "To be or not to be" soliloquy, Act Three, Scene One of the eponymous play; just trying to raise the "class" level a little, although I suspect it will take more than a quote from Shakespeare to raise the level of my writing.)
(And contrary to what some of you think, a two-pound canned Daisy is not a "hamlet".)
Anyway, with all that said, I turn my attentions to the cries of help from "my people", they that so desperately need what the soothing balm of Johnism can provide.
Did I tell you guys about the land I have for sale down in the Everglades?
No names, to protect the innocent and the chronically bewildered:
Dear Pope John the Tall: I am so distraught, Pope, and I don't know who else to turn to. The police have arrested me, my friends are all laughing at me, my family will have nothing to do with me, and it's all because of my love for my Geraldine. Ahh, my Gerry, what a beauty she is: tall, rangy-looking, with all that gorgeous blond hair and those huge brown eyes, she is my dream-girl, my princess, my love. Pope, how can I make my family and friends understand my feelings for Gerry and accept her as my "soul-mate"? Signed, The Kentucky Derby Is Not A Hat
Dear "Derby": YOU'RE THAT PERV FROM KENTUCKY WHO WAS ARRESTED FOR HAVING SEX WITH A HORSE...TWICE. OOOH, GOD WILL GET YOU FOR THAT, I'M SURE. EEEYOOWAH.
You might try having a small, informal "tea" for your family and friends, and bring Gerry along as your guest; this will give all the people in your life a chance to meet...WHAT AM I SAYING, IT'S A HORSE, FOR CHRISSAKE.
EEEYOOWAH.
I received this one from just recently:
Dear Pope Guy: What can I do to get the women in my life to stop leaving me? I mean, just because I'm a sleazy, overly-tattooed, cheating troglydyte, that shouldn't be any reason for all my "babes" to keep deserting me. First it was the wife; she gets all bent because, she says, I'm never home, I'm either "down at that filthy garage or out carousing with your buddies", and off she goes. Then it was the movie star: just because I had a few things going on the side, she flips out and hauls ass back to Texas. Now it's Tattoo Tina who thinks my "act" has gotten a little old and has pulled up stakes and split. What the hell is wrong with these broads, huh? Don't they know how cool I am? Signed, JJ In SoCal
Dear "JJ": Yeah, and the guy that shot your namesake was a fellow gang-member of his who was looking to collect a reward; you don't belong to a gang of bank-robbers by any chance, do you? No? Too bad, but I guess we can always hope you'll join one soon.
Oh, and Sandy: glad you finally woke up; you go, gurl.
Or this one from "DR":
Dear Pope: I hope you can help me. Ever since I was 19, I have had trouble with my "boobs". Not an actual physical problem, I just can't make up my mind what size and shape I want them to be. Honestly, it's just so difficult knowing what's best for me. Should they be larger than "normal"? Should they be smaller, but perky? Should they be green, or maybe have polka-dots, or should I have a third one installed this time? I just can't decide, Pope, and I'm hoping you can offer me the wisdom you've gained from your many years of staring at women's breasts: what should I do? Signed, An "A" Is Only Better Than A "B" In School
Dear "A": Lemme' see: ongoing wars in Afghanistan and Libya; the debt ceiling debate; healthcare; poverty and famine in Africa; gun control; terrorism; our rapidly failing infrastructure; Iran; the recession and the housing market. Hey, "A", I can only assume that your current level of narcissism is a direct result of your previous marriage to Mr. Narcissism, CS. Do us all a favor: pick a set, have'em done and shut up.
Or this one from a tortured soul of my flock:
Dear Popester: Is there any way I can get the address of your favorite magazine, "DDD Beauties"? I'd like to subscribe. Thanks. Signed, An "A" Is Only Better Than A "B" In School, 1.1
Dear "A", 1.1: My consigliore, the Right Reverend Monsignor Michael Jordan (no, not the one who was in "Space Jam") tells me that he will handle this inquiry.
Dear Pope John The Tall: This is an attempt to collect a debt, and any informat...whoa, that letter wasn't supposed to be in this batch. Sorry. Let's try another...
Dear Poop: No one thinks you're amusing and everybody hates you and you smell funny. Signed, Your Ex-
Dear Ex-: Well, two outta' three isn't bad.
And one more for the road:
Dear Popehead: Settle an argument, please? Would you recommend using a right-handed claw-hammer to remove the kanooten screen from the herblex array on my 1963 Rambler American, or should I use a 14/65's allen wrench with a detachable goober? Oh, love your blog, keep up the good work. Signed, There's Ten Bucks Riding On Your Answer
Dear "Ten": Generally I'd recommend using a laterally opposed granetel, with the side vents arranged in series.
Well, I suspect it's about time I got back to my other duties here at the AJATTWC, so I'll sign off for now. I sincerely hope that, in some small way, hearing the cries of the afflicted, and my attempts to provide them solace and a sense of their "not being alone", has helped and guided all of you, my faithful followers and devotees to the soothing balm of Johnism.
They run the Derby in the spring each year, don't they? Just asking.
Love and Dear Abby,
PJTT
Copyright 2011 Krissongs, Inc.
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