Papal State of Mind…
Me: “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned”
Him: “When was your last confession?”
Me: “About two weeks ago.”
Him: “Oh, right, the thing about being a contrary S-O-B. I remember now. That was good.” Chuckles. “And what is it now, my son?”
Me:“It’s my diet, father.”
Him: “Diet? That doesn’t sound very sinful.”
Me: “I have eaten peach salsa.”
Him: “Ouch. Hot, medium, or mild?”
Me: “Medium—or so it says. Frankly, I don’t think any self-respecting taco would allow itself to be slathered with such a sauce.”
Him: “Started with the pineapple salsa, didn’t you?”
Me: “Yes, father. I have sinned.”
Him: “Well, don’t be consumed by it. Get it—consumed?”
Me: “Yes, father.”
Him: “Say ten ‘Hail Marys’ and promise to never sin again—and maybe try some fresh jalapenos in that peach stuff; you never know, try it over rice…”
Me: “Yes, father…”
streaming consciousness... 
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