March 12, 2013

The New Pope Is Gonna Get So Much Poontang


The papal conclave that starts today is sure to be one bitchin’ party. Talk about a shindig: robes that go all the way down to the floor, endless supplies of red wine, and the coolest hats in the business of God. 

Anybody that’s anybody would want to get down and get their drink on in that classy palace for a few days — hell, maybe months. Did you know the longest conclave lasted two-and-a-half years!? That puts even some of the times I had with the Stones back in ‘82 to shame.

Not like I can get an invite. Yeah, me, the VP, baby! They won’t even take my calls. The guest list for these things must be filled out decades in advance. Or maybe you have to already own one of those hats to get in.

One thing is certain, though: the new pope, whoever he is, is going to get so much poontang he won’t know what to do with it. I’m talking waist-deep in poontang. Truckloads of it. Industrial-sized quantities of U.S. Grade A poontang.

It makes perfect sense. The pope is one of the most famous people on earth. The amount of poontang you can get with that kind of fame is through the roof. Even as the vice president, I can hardly imagine how much poontang comes your way when you’re in charge of the entire Catholic church — and I’m doing alright for myself, believe me.

Ladies love fame and power, that’s for damn sure, and becoming pope in the age of 24-hour news networks, Facebook, Twitter, and Chatroulette is a one-way ticket to poontown. Of course, maybe it’s the hat. I need to look into getting one of those.