London Hogwash

As a devout Christian, puritan and believer in the spiritual, I’m always looking for ways to make the church seem more, how you say, trendy. We don’t want the church to be just a sanctuary for the he old, weak and desperate, like our clergy, but to start attracting a fresh generation; the young, weak, and nubile. Really reach out to them. And touch them. Inside.

We need a new messiah, someone cool, hip and openly Christian. And that’s how we came up with WWJD. What Would Justin Do. Our new messiah; Justin Timberlake. So now, whenever I find myself in times of trouble, all I need do is resort to my extensive Justin Timberlake video collection and ask; what would Justin do?

Take for example, just last week. I was in a pub when one of these big skin-for-head type people accidentally took my drink and spat it in my face. So I decided to turn the other cheek and quietly leave. But had thought of it at the time, and what I’ll do in the future, is silence the jukebox fonzy style, multiply myself to surround them, and then, by using hypnotic Michael Jackson style dancing, convince all their bitches to strip naked. Oh yes. And then when they go to attack me I would just float away through a trapdoor in the ceiling.

You sir, say you were watching a rather bad comedian. Is it not now obvious to you that you should seduce this beautiful woman here with a combination of beat-box and defying gravity? And then when she inevitably leaves you, break into her house, make pornography with some high-class hooker, and leave it on continuous play, just to spite her? It’s the lord’s way.

The whole ‘sex’ thing, and especially talking about it, is confusing for us Christians. Trendy words like fuck, shit and mimsy we learn quite late on, so they don’t become a natural part of our Sunday School vocabulary – unlike, brother, my, stop and buggering. No, the language of love we learn is constricted solely to what we can say while kneeling in front of a bishop.

The prehistoric art of moans and groans is how we communicate. What you want faster (bad groans)? Slower (bad groans)? Err, Dairy Lea (good groans)? Kids will do anything for Dairy Lea.

I live with my parents and will do forever, as far as I can see I have two choices. I could rent, but when you add the rent to the costs to trying to repay student loans, overdraft and credits card, I’d need the kind of money you can only realistically get by sending your kids to play round Michael Jackson’s house.

My second choice is to live at home until my parents die. Since the Christian religion strictly forbids killing your parents and selling their house I’ll have to wait. So when they finally kick it after a good fifty years of ‘Ed could you click my hip back in place son’ then it’ll be my kidney dialysis machine next to the telly.

But the worst thing is the complete lack of privacy when you live in a room designed for a 10-year-old next to your Christian parents. The whole language of love is compressed down further to just sticking a dirty gym sock in her mouth saying; “For God’s sake don’t cum!”. Man, my parents wish they weren’t pro life.

But I have thought of a way out. I have discovered that pensioners will do anything for a shinny carriage clock. It’s the pensioners equivalent of Dairy Lea! It not surprising though, I’d want a big clock in every room if going to the loo was the equivalent of an arctic expedition. “Well, I’ve shaved half a hour off my time, pity I couldn’t hold it in though”.

So I have a plan. I’m going to go around to a pensioner with some huge country estate they brought in the dark ages for two shillings and a magic bean and say; “Hello little lady, how would you like to live in the worlds largest cardboard non-functioning carriage clock?”

As a Christian, you should occasionally think of others. As the bible says in Leviticus 19.18 “Love thy neighbour as thyself.” As a practicing sadomasochist, I have become very unpopular.

Anyway I was basking in the eternal love of the lord the other day when I saw this policeman beating the shit out of some poor Muslim guy. Of course, I’m shocked to see this appalling act of violence, so I go “What the hell are you doing?” And he just gives him a swift knee in the nuts and turns to me and says; “Didn’t you know, this season, Muslim is the new black”. So I joined in!

But I haven’t always been on such good terms with the police. One night, I was joyriding this pensioner, using a carriage clock on a stick, when a squad car starts chasing me. So I start beating her as hard as I can with her walking stick but the police were still gaining on me. So I think to myself, what would Justin do? 650 hours of community service apparently.

I’ve been Justin Timberlake, see you all in hell.