Last night I dreamt I was in a huge crowd in St Peter's square --how come they call it a square if it's round?-- at some kind of religious service and at one point the assembled multitude started doing something like a mix between The Wave and the kind of jump up and jump around from the old wigger House of Pain days in the 90's.
Guess who I spied up toward the front, doing the same freaky moves as the rest?
Francis The Talking Pope.
I guess this dream kinda encapsulates me feelings about him.
For all it matters.
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If not a mutt in body, a mutt in spirit.
-A
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