Tooty Frooty

TATI: Tony, I have found your dream job!

TONY: Is there even such a thing? Work is work after all.

TATI: It’s something you already do for free every day. But now you can get money and respect for it!

TONY: What? Sleeping?

TATI: Nope. Any other ideas?

TONY: Chewing? I chew a lot when I eat food.

TATI: Getting hotter…

TONY: Why, thank you! I always try to look my best…

TATI: Don’t flatter yourself, beta male.

TONY: Well, twist my titties. That was rude!

TATI: Tony, are you going to keep guessing or pout like a little sissy?

TONY: Masturbate?

TATI: Let me just show you the link, because I’m almost scared to hear your next suggestion.

TONY: Wise!

Priest farts on church members as a display of “God’s power”

TATI: So, what do you think? Would you like to schedule a job interview? Or maybe ‘audition’ in this case?

TONY: I don’t think so. I mean, farts do not have magical healing properties.

TATI: Some consider smelling farts as healthy by the way. But I’d rather continue to take care of my health with more traditional means.

Is Smelling Farts Healthy? Research Says Maybe

TONY: Yes, me too. I don’t think I want some ‘holy man’ getting all flatulent with my face in the name of some all-powerful ‘god’. I mean, what a crock of shit!

TATI: Well… let’s back to the farting priest. I find it’s rather funny but I feel you may have another point of view as a former believer. May I ask what you think regarding this?

TONY: Believe me, I do see the humour in this as the whole scenario is rather absurd. Someone pretending to have a direct line to a god then demonstrating said god’s power by farting on people? Those are the ingredients for absurdist comedy right there. But I do kinda find it sad too.

TATI: I see. Do you feel cheated, ridiculed?

TONY: While I was certainly never taken in by a scam like this, I was still a member of a christian church for about twenty years. That turned out to be a huge mistake, and I’ve spent the last decade trying to shed the mindset that such a religious culture programs into you.

TATI: So, they didn’t fart on your face, but in your brains.

TONY: Exactly. I was so desperate to fit in with my chosen ‘family’ that I was more than willing to try and believe whatever nonsensical bible story or precept they presented. Talking snakes and donkeys. A boat full of the entire world’s animals. A loving god that sanctioned incest, genocides and slavery. The cognitive dissonance was strong with me.

TATI: I heard an interesting thought recently, that certain linguistic anthropologists think religion is a language virus that rewrites pathways in the brain, dulling critical thinking. So, in regards to what you’re saying… it really makes sense.

TONY: I don’t know if that’s necessarily true of religious people across the board, but it certainly was with me. So, in that sense there is a ring of truth to it.

TATI: I’m glad you have since ventilated your brain. But it looks like now we need to ventilate our room. Tony?

TONY: That wasn’t me! It must have been you!

TATI: Me?! No!

TONY: Well, then it must have been the dog. Or Gerald the Fart Fairy.

TATI: Let’s say it was the priest from Limpopo!

TONY: Yes, let’s say it was that charlatan, for that is indeed what he is. And I despise such people. He’s really no better than the Benny Hinns, Paula Whites and Kenneth Copelands of the evangelical world. He just exists on a smaller scale is all.

TATI: Benny Hill was a priest?

TONY: If only! I think Hinn’s healing services could’ve been more entertaining if they’d utilised under-cranked footage of parishioners being slain in the spirit to Boots Randolph’s ‘Yakety Sax‘.

TATI: I smell your outrage, Tony. Well… our time would be better spent taking the dog for a walk.

TONY: We have a dog?

TATI: Gotcha!

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2021

THE CRUMBCAST // Simon Says and the Fresh New Hell

Argh, it looks like I let my guard down! It was another nice and unalarming evening. I was not doing any mischief, not touching anyone, fixing the Primus and stewing in my reflective juices…

“HULLO!”

Tony decided not to sweat about politeness and just poked his head through my window. Yuck! Time differences are tricky things when you’re halfway sleepy, and your writing companion is boiling and spluttering with words and emotions at the other end.

Oh my God! Did he want to talk about God?! No-no-no, may God keep me from discussions of God! With my brain on autopilot, I muttered something in Ukrainian. Maybe I didn’t even realize this at the time. All I know is that Tony stopped speaking and goggled at me.

“Ah, what?”

Oh… I explained that “Слава Богу, Бога немає. А якщо, не дай Боже, Бог таки є?” roughly translated meant, “Thank God, no God. And if, God forbid, God is still there?” Tony was like, “Okay, I still have no idea what you meant, but… sure!” and giggled. I don’t know why. Maybe my Ukrainian seemed funny to him.

I decided to give him a second chance. “It’s an oxymoron. Nonsense. Like that anecdote about the doctor and his patient.” Tony’s eyes lit up with interest. “Oh, what’s the anecdote? I like anecdotes!” I sighed and said, “A doctor wakes a patient by saying, ‘Patient, wake up! It’s time to take your sleep-pills!’” Tony chuckled at this.

“Yes, I definitely need to use this in my podcast…”

Why didn’t I pay attention to his fuss? Again, blame it on my drowsiness. Well, guys, що маємо, те маємо. Here you can listen how Tony parrots my Ukrainian, prattles something about Stalin and Simpson… and maybe something else. I fell asleep in five minutes, to be honest, and didn’t listen to all that Tony craved to tell me. Maybe you, my dear reader, can listen to the end?

This is a bit strange, but if you want to listen to the sound then you should click on the picture below. Yes, it’s real magic in the digital world, I tell ya!