The post where I talk shit.

 Ah, what a great win for the All Blacks last night! Father mentioned it at Mass. Robert looked tired. He'd done the all-night shift at the church shop. 

They're selling hamburgers now. They have a cross on them, just like hot cross buns. The church has built a drive through at the back end of the church shop. The drive through is proving more popular than Mass.

Obviously they come with fries.

I noticed that Father had sticky fingers when he gave out hosts at Communion.

Peter had driven all the way down from Whangarei - he was probably attracted by the availability of hamburgers. 

He's smoking a pipe these days.

Before Mass he was standing outside by some silver pipes.

I said to him, "You look good with a pipe."

He replied, "You should say 'pipes'. There are nine of them."

He has always been one for detail. Actually, Peter certainly cracks some mighty good jokes. 

Okay, okay, I know, I'm pushing reality a bit too hard there!

Don't get me wrong, there is nothing much wrong with Peter's jokes. They're just not funny. 

After Mass Robert went to confession for the first time in about five years. Peter and I sat in the church while Peter ate a hamburger. You could hear the priest calling out in shock.

"You did what? I do not believe you! This is disgusting! You should be ashamed of yourself!"

After finishing his hamburger, Peter made use of a long drop that was behind the church. His interesting noises drowned out the priest's exclamations in the confessional box. Then he said he was driving home so that he could post on Neighbourhood Chat. Evidently the other people on the chat site love his comments and his fairly quick humour. 

Well, I'll leave it there for today.

Enjoy the rest of your Wednesday.

Chow tooty.