My visit with Santa...

What a disappointment that was.

"Yeah. So Santa, I never asked for siblings - could you take them back then?"

Desert Father talking...

"In Egypt, once when Abba Poemen was going somewhere, he saw a woman sitting by a grave and weeping bitterly. He said, 'If all the delights of this world should come to her, they would not alleviate her sorrow. Just so should the monk always be weeping in his heart.'" - Sayings of the Desert Fathers

[I'll be off-line for a little while.]

Mommie Dearest

Madonna cancels Christmas - LOL!

The devout Kabbalahist - new word for Grinch, or pseudo-Jew - has cancelled Christmas for her family. (Look for the remake of Mommie Dearest in about 15 to 20 years - or rather, when the kids are all grown up and damaged.) Read the entire story here if you are at all interested.

And now, another Top 10 Meme...

The Top 10 best pictures on my blog! EVER!!!!!

(In no particular order of course. My apologies for not including any Serial Mom classics.)

Happy Holidays!

Meme-meme-meme-meme-meme------

I get so darn excited!

Cathy tagged me for a meme - memes are for girls - but boys play too - just to keep the girls interested. So ANYWAY - this one is about posting my top 10 best posts. Gosh! Where the hell to begin? Here I go:

10) The post I did exposing all the **** priests in the **** who were stationed at a **** ***** parish in ** **** ...

9) The post I did exposing the priest who **** a child with a ***** ***** and still works in *** ******** ....

8) The post I did revealing that a rather well-known priest does not have a **** ***...

7) The post I did revealing the hot-bed of lesbian/wiccan **** at a certain local CINO academic institution.

6) The post I did revealing that the gay association known as ***** has only about 5 to 10 active members - many on the waiting lists of memory care homes.

5) The post I did exposing female ********* students as on the make for ******** and ******** men.

4) The pictorial post I did on naked swimming at a local ******* college pool.

3) The post I did on how liberal priests are begging for the TLM to be celebrated at their parishes, but trad priests are refusing to train them.

2) My expose detailing the mark-up on religious goods at local ******* stores. And how they are in ****** ****** *** **** *** with Communist China *** ****** **** unconcerned **** lead content in their ******** products. The following quote by the buyers said it all: "We grew up chewing lead paint off our window sills and it never harmed us!"

1) My #1 best post has to be the review I did of popular ***** blogs and the utter pretentiousness of ****** *** write them. People were aghast. I had to hasten with a corrective post wherein I assured my readers ** *** all a bunch of liars or phonies about something in our lives, so don't to be too judgemental.

I tag Johnny, Ginger, Helmut, Kirsten, Poodle, Puppy, and Jen.

[UPDATE: I needed to edit this entry because I realized some people would think it was about them when it was really about someone else - and in some cases - about no one at all.]

Rockin' around...

Rockin' around the Christmas tree!

I got my tree up - the outside of the house has been decorated. I got my cards done. All I have to do is clean and grocery shop, otherwise I'm done for Christmas. So now I can go to the company Christmas party tomorrow night. I have always loved those parties, but it was tough getting away to attend!

[Oh - I guess I have to mail the cards too - I think I can handle that. Although, maybe people could just pick their card up? Nah! Then they'll want to come in.]

The Christmas story... for cats.

Now this is the role cats played in the birth of Jesus. (The story I tell my cats every Christmas after we finish the Rosary and before we venerate the Infant Jesus.)

On the first Christmas eve - that is, when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of the holy Virgin Mary - and before anyone else knew about it, even the shepherds, the stray cats of Bethlehem gathered around the stable. They were hiding in the hay and behind the sleepy ox, one kitty slept on the back of donkey because it was warm, a couple of others rubbed up against St. Joseph who seemed to be asleep - although he was really in ecstasy.

The holy Virgin was kneeling upon a fleece mat laid over the straw in a corner of the stable, protected from view by the large sleeping ox and a low wall. The Blessed Virgin was in ecstasy as well, when suddenly a great light shone, and upon the fleece was a lovely newborn Infant, glistening as if bathed in star dust. No sooner had He appeared than the Blessed Mother swiftly wrapped Him in swaddling clothes and laid Him in the manger nearby. As if from nowhere, the tiniest angels appeared, about the size of bees, encircling the newborn in the manger, while strains of heavenly music could be heard, along with the gentle singing of heavenly choirs.

Joseph walked very slowly into the enclosure, his head bowed, tears streaming down a face made radiant by the light emanating from the Holy Child and his Blessed Mother. He knelt next to his wife, adoring the Holy Infant. The ox noticed and rose partially, although just enough to kneel, facing the Holy Family. The donkey did likewise. The cats, naturally shy and accustomed to being shooed away, kept their distance until they noticed all the other little animals; mice, chipmunks, rabbits, gathering in awe at the foot of the manger, completely unselfconscious of any danger.

Now, as you know, stray cats are always hungry and always looking for prey - which is why many people who dislike cats, tolerated them in the first place, since they kept their homes free of vermin. As the cats watched all the critters assembling, it seemed to them it was a living banquet being laid out before their eyes. However, the grandpa cat whispered that this was not the moment or place for feasting. He proceeded to explain to the other cats that they had all just witnessed a miracle, that God Himself, our Creator, had come down that night to live amongst men. Grandpa cat pointed to all the little animals, particularly the mice, and reminded the other cats of the scriptures which referred to the Christ when it foretold, "In that day the kitty cat will lie down with the mouse." (Grandpa cat knew the scriptures because he sneaked into Temple every Sabbath. He quickly related how the Virgin would be found with Child, that her Child is the Redeemer and Saviour, who brings peace to all the world, renewing nature itself, and so on.)

With renewed confidence all the cats crept out of their hiding places, their attention rapt upon the Divine Child. The kitties were neither distracted by the mice and other animals, nor were they a bit perturbed when the shepherd's dogs arrived... the atmosphere being so permeated with peace and joy that silent night. A few of the older cats cuddled near the Madonna and the feet of St. Joseph to warm them. As it was a very cold night that first Christmas, Our Lady picked up a very fat cat and another beautiful Siamese cat, placing them gently near the Child Jesus, to keep Him warm too. [This is when I ask my cats, "And do you know who these kitties were, so privileged to keep watch over the Holy Infant? They were your great, great, great, great, (almost too many greats to count!), great grandmothers!"]

The End.

So this is the Christmas story I tell my cats every year, and when I'm finished, they roll around for a long time afterwards, purring and stretching, as if they had nibbled upon catnip, and I always seem to be able to see a twinkle in their eyes, with a smile upon their little mouths. After some time, they then go over and adore the Bambino Jesu, sitting alongside Him into the wee hours of the morning.

Going to confession.

I need a cigarette.

I'm going to confession today. I'm very nervous about it for some reason. Well, mainly because it's hard to confess sometimes. I know we are confessing to Christ, but the priest is a guy, and he has to listen to what we have to say. Strangely enough, when you get to be my age, my sins seem more shameful. I think it is because at my age I always thought I should know better, or I should be more mature and not commit such stupid sins. What I think I'm saying is that I equate maturity with perfection - and on some level that is true - but being older doesn't guarantee maturity or perfection - as evidenced by my blogs.

The thing about sin however, especially when you get older, is that you are keenly aware of how deliberate it is. If other 'mature' men are like me, sins against chastity used to be the principal sin everyone confessed. Hence the shame and embarrassment thing was pretty much a given. But nowadays, the sins seem to be less carnal and more spiritual - therefore it's a different type of shame and guilt. (As most Catholics know, confession not only takes away the sin, but the shame, and the guilt as well.)

The awful truth.

Having said that, the spiritual combat seems much more vicious now that I'm older - and deals directly with the theological virtues, to be sure - but even more so, with the root sins that have plagued us all of our lives. (I think the psalmist referred to these when he prayed, "from my hidden sins acquit me O Lord.) Our "big" sins of intemperance, or sins against chastity, often eclipsed these deeper, darker, nasty sins of pride, envy, jealousy, rancor, lying, sloth - oh, the list goes on and on. In other words, the sins, the combat, becomes more spiritual - and therefore seems to me to be more deadly.

Which brings me back to my point. Confession seems more difficult at times because we are really laying bare our soul to its very depths, and more often than not, to a much younger man. Even the devil doesn't have access to this level of our being. Whatever. I'm going to confession. I think I need humility and deeper contrition - please pray for me.

Gosh - I could sure use a cigarette.

Hard to find toys for the kids...

These and other fine toys available exclusively at Jeron's - St. Louis. Shop Jeron's for those hard to find gifts this holiday season! Family owned and operated for 38 years!

[All toys made in China and contain lead and other toxic substances. Meth included in the Easy Bake kit. United States brand cigarettes and booze must be purchased separately for John Candy Land.]

Sometimes when I post...

The honesty is too much.

Sometimes, when I'm really tired, cranky, depressed, or I'm just up too late to write a post, the result can be inappropriate at best, or just badly written. (I know - I always post inappropriate stuff, but late at night it can be worse.) Anyway - sometimes the next morning, when I'm thinking more clearly, I'll delete the post from the previous night.

Yeah, so that's kinda what happens.

Andy enjoyed Christmas

The Bunny Rabbit Christmas Tree

Once Bunny Rabbit saw a Christmas tree...

This is a true story... The rabbit in my garden comes up to the top of the stairs and looks in the house through the windows of the french doors. His curiosity reminds me of The Bunny Rabbit Diaries. The following is an excerpt from The Bunny Rabbit Diaries just for Christmas, with a couple of annotations and additions by yours truly:

A few days before Christmas, Mr. Sun came up from behind the hills and shone brightly all day long. He melted the snow in the warm hollows, and softened the ice on the brooks. (I'm sorry - the text really reads, "Mr. Sun" - I thought it was stupid too.)

Bunny Rabbit and his brothers came out and hopped around to find roots to eat.

The squirrels ran up and down the trees, and all around everywhere to find hidden nuts.

All at once Bunny Rabbit heard a noise. (Bunny Rabbit is one sharp tack.)

He sat up on his hind legs and held up his long ears.

The other rabbits listened, too.

Sammy and Bobby heard the noise and scampered up into the little pine tree. (Sammy and Bobby are squirrels who just scamper about - all over. They are very annoying.)

"Bow-wow-wow!" barked Jip, as he ran through the woods.

"It's the dog!" cried Bunny. "Let's run and hide." (Dogs are so scary to squirrels and bunny rabbits! Puppies will tear them to bits and pieces,)

The little rabbits whirled around and hopped back to their house. (Their ears flopping to and fro! Giggling because they knew they were being filmed.)

Sammy and Bobby were safe in the tree, so they did not try to run away. They heard some one talking and they looked to see who it was. They saw two children and a man.

The man had an axe in his hand. (They so wanted to scream, they knew all about axe murderers - then they covered their eyes fearing what might happen to the children...)

BUT... The two children ran along the path, talking and laughing and spitting on each other.

They were looking at all the evergreen trees. (They couldn't see the forest for the trees! This is where the expression comes from!)

"This is a good one," said the little boy. (Although he knew he would be wrong - since the little girl always had to be right. The little boy vowed then and there never to get married. 'I'll be a priest!' he thought, 'and then I'll make her wear chapel veils to church and won't let her do the readings at Mass or be an altar girl and stuff.' Yes - this is how these customs got started!)

"This is a better one," said the girl, and she pointed right at the little pine tree where Sammy and Bobby were hiding. (The squirrels then realized this wasn't a crime scene after all - these people seemed to be intent upon deforestation and wiping out wildlife from the planet, in an effort to promote global warming.)

"They are going to cut down this tree," whispered Sammy. "What shall we do? What shall we do?"

But the man did not cut down the tree.

He looked at it and said, "That is too large for our Christmas tree." (Omigosh! The squirrels snickered - and they realized the intrusive humans were just looking for a Christmas tree to cut down, decorate, and then burn a few days later.)

"We must find one that is much smaller." Said the axe murderer.

So the man and the two children went along the path into the woods.

And before long the sound of the axe rang out through the stillness. (And the bone-chilling screams of the children did too! I'm just kidding.)

"I never was so frightened in my life," said Sammy. "I thought..."

"I thought so, too," said Bobby. "But I was not frightened. I could jump to that next tree. It is not very far."

"I know that," said Sammy. "But I have a store-house in this tree."

"Where is it?" asked Bobby. "I wish you would show it to me. I am as hungry as a bear."

"So am I," said Sammy. "Let's have dinner now." (As he turned to go get the good china and silver.)

"We will call it a Christmas dinner. The children said this would make a good Christmas tree," said Bobby.

"I wonder what a Christmas tree is like," said Sammy. Bobby followed Sammy and peeped into the hole where the ten acorns were hidden.

Sammy took out a nut, and Bobby took out a nut. (Just a couple of nuts - get it? This is where that expression comes from!)

They sat up on their hind legs and nibbled away happily. (They really didn't have china or silverware.)

And as they nibbled annoyingly, the man and the two children and the dog came back through the woods.

They were dragging a little tree over the snow.

The dog ran along beside them barking loudly. (So the dad shot him.)

"That must be the Christmas tree," said Bobby. "I wonder what they are going to do with it." (He wondered if it would be a theme tree, you know, very traditional, or if they would flock it and do something fabulously monochromatic with it.)

"Tweet, tweet!" sang a little sparrow. "I can tell you. I saw one last year. I peeped in at the window after the tree had been set up in the warm room. I saw many pretty things hanging on the branches. I saw the candles lighted, and Santa Claus came in to give away the toys to the happy children. Oh, it was pretty! But I like to see the tree in the woods better."

Then the little sparrow flew away, and the two squirrels ate another nut. (They looked at each other and shrugged - they couldn't understand a word of what the sparrow had just said.)

"I think this is a good Christmas tree," said Bobby. (Repeatedly over and over, really fast - he was a very fast talker.)

"Yes," said Sammy. "A tree with a hole full of nuts is better than one covered with candles and toys." (Said Sammy, repeatedly over and over, really fast - he too was a very fast talker.)

"It is better for squirrels," said Bobby - over and over. And then he took another nut. (Actually, the squirrels were nuts.)

Now this tale seems to end here - and it does in the book - but in reality, the little bunny rabbit who had been peering through my window is the very same Bunny Rabbit in this story! Isn't that wonderful? (Bunny Rabbit didn't see no damn tree.)

This story is available from Dementia Publishing, St. Paul, Minnesota 55104

Left Behind.

What happened to santa?

"...then all of a sudden, this nice lady's Christmas tree just up and dropped out of the sky and landed on the poor old guy - this here's all that's left of him - it's like he melted or somethin'."

[Read about funny Christmas cards here.]

My first and last children's Christmas party...

Christmas memories...

That is me in the photo - I'm the one in the forefront wearing the dark suit, feigning happiness. It was an okay event. The girl next to me is Jennifer Colb, who was rather obvious in trying to seduce me. I explained to her I wanted to be a priest, so she ignored me the rest of the party. (None of us knew her very well, she was a daughter of one of my parent's bar-friends, who just happened to drop by.)

The boy next to me was my best friend Bob Cosamini... I say 'was' because we had a falling out about 10 years ago, right around Christmas. I had been helping him set up his business. One day I came into the shop and he told me his wife did not like a piece of art that I had hung. I walked out in a huff, and we have not spoken since. (Well, I wrote a letter. Never write letters when you are angry.)

I digress. Anyway, at parties such as these, Bob would use the bathroom and come back and tell us - in detail - all about it, what it looked like, the whole shebang. The girl at the back of our table next to Bob is Gloria Sword - she beat up Mary Kay Figaretto once - Mare is the dark-haired girl seated at the furthest table, across from Larry DeMarco. Larry has been in local theater for years now - and quite serious about it. Mary Kay is the one who introduced us all to Slo-Gin, with which we spiked our punch that Christmas. Most of us got sick and threw up. My parents thought it was my mom's cooking and refused to entertain ever again.

The End.

Jesse Tree

Right on, Target!

I'm not a big fan of Advent Wreaths or Jesse Trees, although if I had a Jesse Tree such as the illumination shown, I would be pleased. I think these things are great for families, especially kids, but for me, not so much. Although, I do appreciate old-world looking Advent calendars.

Speaking of Advent calendars - has anyone paid much attention to Target's Christmas ad on television? I vote it the best of the 2007 season. I love the music - sounds very Paul McCartney - and the format is nothing more than an Advent calendar. Now that is a good 'Catholic' Christmas ad if I ever saw one!

Right on, Target Corporation!

Simplicity...

"According to St. Thomas, simplicity is attached to the virtue of veracity, which puts truth into speech, gestures, manner of being and of living." (Three Ages of the Interior Life)

Hey - somebody! Please!

Could someone please call Tony Bennett and tell him he can't sing any more?! Sheesh!

Do you realize...

Some of my favorite blogs are the ones I link to in my sidebar? Either on this blog or on Abbey 2 - but many of them do not link to me. Do I complain? No honey, I don't. Do I think nasty thoughts about these people? Yes honey, I do.

Funny nun pictures - then and now...

Then...

And now...

Those infamous McDonald Sisters of Corondelet.

"I'll drink to that!"

Was that you St. Nick?

Too busy I guess.

Yeah, St. Nicholas flew right by my house today - I didn't even get a piece of coal. Nothing hurts more than being ignored.

Gay...

Now this is gay.

Fr. Z has a post on wearing blue for Advent. Yeah - real priests (men) do not wear blue for Advent.

That's all.

[Offline until further notice. Happy St. Nicholas Day!]

'Twas the night before St. Nicholas...

And all the kids were in a pickle...

The End.

Here comes Sinteklaas!

It is snowing heavily in the Twin Cities - here in Minnesota, that is. And all the little kids know it heralds the arrival of St. Nicholas, to prepare them for the feast of the Nativity of the Lord.

Art: Illumination of St. Nicholas restoring the three youths to life. Legend has it they were murdered and pickled in a barrel of brine. Hence St. Nicholas is venerated as the patron of children, in this case, abused and missing children.

Go here for a fun Sinterklaas resource.

Sometimes you just feel like there is no other choice...

[Thanks to Jer-Bear for the cartoon.]

Finish the sentence...

Yeah, so after they had evicted Cathy from the bar...

Place Vendome...

From Paris Daily Photo.



My favorite site in Paris - well one of them - all done up for Christmas. I have a small collection of Grand Tour replicas of the column pictured. Napoleon originally commissioned the column to commemorate the victory at the battle of Austerlitz, 1805. Currently the figure atop the column is the Emperor dressed in Roman attire, although at one time the monument supported Napoleon depicted in the pose most of us are more familiar with, standing with his hand resting in his waistcoat. I have examples of both.

St. Nick

I almost forgot!

It is the novena for the feast of St. Nicolaus! I'm praying for all of you, as well as poor and suffering children (adult children too!) and most especially, little kids who are abused and sexually exploited.

Go here for a cool site on everything St. Nicolaus.

Yes - I am excited about Christmas...

And I don't care who knows it...

Ray sent me a photo of Cathy's Christmas tree. He said she's been busy emptying bottles of beer and therefore unable to blog, but she managed to get that tree up for Thanksgiving. (Looks like she got her shopping done too - or is she re-gifting again?)

This isn't funny...

Nor is it meant to be.

A note from the cartoonist, John Francis Borra:

To anyone familiar with the Third Reich, it’s obvious what I’ve done here. This is a play on the iron gates surrounding Auschwitz concentration camp. The actual iron gates read Arbeit Macht Frei (Work Makes You Free). This was, of course, the big lie fed to inmates in order to keep them manageable as they were led from cattle cars to their deaths in the showers. Planned Parenthood’s big lie to society is strikingly similar: Abortion Makes You Free. The parallel is dramatic and perfectly appropriate. As a matter of fact, it’s not unlike any other cartoon I’ve done about the culture of death; the truth is so grotesque, so clear, so galling that little imagination– and no exaggeration at all– is required to spin editorial material from it.

[Thanks to my friend Linda for the cartoon.]

True confessions...

Three things you may not have known about me and my family.

#1) I always think of dogs as boys, and cats as girls.

#2) My one cat was married before - well... she had children.

#3) My parents were married by a Justice of the Peace, but they posed for wedding photos on the steps of the Cathedral.

Local News... in St. Paul, Minnesota that is...

It's just too bad!

I just got this email:

I was told that Cyndi Brucato donated a tour of the Channel 5 newsroom to a Planned Parenthood Auction Fundraiser which is to be held on November 29. It is valued at $500. Ribnick Furs has contributed 11,000 (retail) in two fur coats. The MN Lynx have contributed $1000 in opening night tickets. Continental Diamonds in watches; MN Wild also donated tickets:

Here's one you can call on: Mayor Chris Coleman has donated a meal with him. Wowser!

There's another 25 or so items listed for the live auction.

Here is the link for Cyndi's thing:
http://www.cmarket.com/auction/item/Item.action?_sourcePage=/item/browseImage.jsp&id=57801591

Thanks for the tip Ray!

Our Lady of Naju, Korea

Photo: Bloody communion of Julia Kim, the Korean woman who claims to see and receive messages from Our Lady.

This seems so repellent to me, I can't imagine anyone finding devotion through such demonstrations.

Source: Our Lady of Naju

Another holocaust...

Don't mention the bird flu at Thanksgiving dinner, or the mass slaughter of birds when authorities discover the virus on over-crowded factory farms. People tell me just thinking of burning feathers wrecks their appetite.

Happy Thanksgiving everybody!

Over the river and through the woods...

To Grandmother's house for Thanksgiving.

Everyone in the neighborhood knew her as "Little Red Riding Hood" - the young blond woman with developmental disorders who still lived at home with her alcoholic mother. The mother had no intention of cooking for Thanksgiving and definitely did not want the grandma over to her house - which is the real reason why she sent Little Red over to grandma's with the meal mom picked up from the food shelf on her way home from the liquor store the day before.

"Here - take this to grandma's and fix Thanksgiving dinner for her - and don't stop any place on the way over. You can bring me back the left overs." The mother said, as she mixed a vodka and tonic for herself.

Little Red grabbed the basket, excited she was trusted to go on such a journey and commissioned to cook such an important dinner at that. (Even though granny had Alzheimer's, she still enjoyed a good dinner.)

On the way over Little Red was surprised to see that Walgreen's was open on the holiday, so she thought she would stop in to buy a Thanksgiving card for granny. Red suffered from ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder) so when she got in the store she forgot why she went in, and started to try on make-up at the cosmetic counter. After about an hour, she remembered she had been told not to stop anyplace and go straight to grandma's.

Forgetting the card, on her way out of the drug store the security guy stopped her to ask what she had in the basket. Red showed him the dinner and explained she was on her way to granny's house. She went on to tell the guard that granny had Alzheimer's and continued on offering far too much personal information about granny and herself. The guard sent her on her way, advising her that she better hurry or she would be late.

In the meantime, granny assumed she was supposed to go over to Little Red Riding Hood's house, to eat with Red and her mother. Like so many people with Alzheimer's, she got in the car, drove off and was never heard from again. Disappeared without a trace. Thus, when Red got to granny's house, no one was there, so she decided to watch TV. Suddenly there was a knock on the door! It turned out to be the security guard from Walgreen's. Not to fear however, Red had left her purse on the cosmetic counter and he was just returning it.

Anyway - Since granny wasn't home, Red invited him to stay for Thanksgiving dinner. They eventually fell in love and got married. An interesting note, the guard's name was Filbert Wulff, hence the misunderstanding with the Big Bad Wolf thing. Oh, and another reason for the Big Bad Wolf mix-up - both Red and Filbert were suspects in the disappearance of granny, and since there was no evidence - no charges could be filed against them. (Red's mother continues to live by herself, although she has been in and out of rehab.) Yeah, so I guess you can say they lived happily ever after.

The End.

Thanksgiving at the Gretel's...

Dysfunctional fairy tales.

So, after Hansel and Gretel murdered the witch by gassing her in the oven, and then robbing her, they returned home to find that their no-good father was a widower once again. Their wicked step-mother mysteriously died, and the kids were reunited with their dad for Thanksgiving. The End.

I have to make phone calls for the Holidays.

I have to call my relatives.