They say that seminary is the cemetery for

They say that seminary is the cemetery for the faithful. It is black-suited, chain-wearing zombies that are sent back to the church and they wonder why the church is dying! Resurr

ection be damned! What this seminary needs is a little shake up, something to get the juices flowing. What my fellow seminarians do not know is that I have placed a huge amount

of the Poor Relief Fund on the nose of a three legged nag running in the 3.30 at Chepstow. If it comes last the seminary will be as rich as Stamboul's diadem. All we need is prayer

and for the lame donkey to cross the finish before the 3-legged nag. Not that I don't doubt power of prayer but a lot was riding on this race, so I snuck in the stable to dope

-deal to a few long-hairs and while I was in there I hit the donkey a couple times with an epi-pen I had in my sock. When it was time for the race, the donkey ("Haulin' Ass") was

Looking ready to run over the humans setting the clock at zero. They hid under the table. The epipen broke into 4,364 shards plus the fluid. Another mess to clean up, the grounds

keeper muttered under his breath to the bush beside him. He set out from his culvert to clean up the broken epipen when he was shot with a high powered rifle round that came throug

h town that night wreaking havoc where ever it passed. In the end, it went through 7 houses, injured 5 and killed the groundskeeper when it came through a stone wall. It was shot f

-ull of lead by the local constabulary before they realized that it was the jolly old Kool-Aid guy. There he lay, his pitcher broken, in a puddle of artificial fruit flavors. The

children all ran out of their houses and then just stood there, at first dumbfounded. Then: "HOORAY! The wicked Kool-Aid Pitcher is DEAD!!!" They all learned a lesson that day.