Yeah, the pope-pope-pope-po-pope.

[jazzfish]

More popish goodness for skreidle's collection, courtesy queue: All your pope are belong to us. "Main balcony doors open."

And meryncadell's classic song about getting to see the pope:

And I cried when I saw that man in white.
I cried, much to my surrounders' delight.
I cried, 'cause I couldn’t breathe anymore; I cried
'cause people were stepping on my feet.

TNH, as usual, talks sense. (And links to things she believes, as good a read today as it was this time last year.)

Comments

[laughin.livejournal.com]

*groan*