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	New Rules for Priests No More Piggyback Rides, Hugging, Tickling. and That Goes for the Kids, Too By Mark Morford San Francisco Chronicle August 15, 2008 http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/g/a/2008/08/15/notes081508.DTL&feed=rss.mmorford The Archdiocese of Cincinnati has issued a detailed list of inappropriate behaviors for priests, saying they should not kiss, tickle or wrestle children. The archdiocese's Decree on Child Protection also prohibits bear hugs, lap-sitting and piggyback rides. But it says priests may still shake children's hands, pat them on the back and give high-fives. — Associated Press •The archdiocese of Boston, notorious in the past decade as the most pedophilic and scandal-plagued of all, having currently paid out over $136 million to more than 1,000 victims of sexual abuse, has quietly issued strict new guidelines for all its remaining pastors. The Decree on Creepy Overlong Stares states that, in the rare instances when a Boston-area priest must look straight into the eyes of a child, said pastor must first don a pair of specially designed sunglasses, the lenses of which have been coated in a compound harvested from the sweat glands of ascetic eunuchs who live deep in the Catacombs of Agony just beneath Vatican City. The active ingredient of the special compound reportedly dims the bright light of a child's tantalizing innocence, thus making the youth appear just as old and soiled and sinful as, well, everyone else. •Taking a cue from Mormon tradition, the Archdiocese of Los Angeles has issued a new Dictum on Appropriate Underclothing, which now commands that all its priests must wear, as a means to "thwart all untoward urges," an elaborate tight-fitting leather harness system involving multiple snaps, metal rings, nickel-plated buckles and "cool whippy things." When informed by a reporter that this kind of rigging is actually considered a delightful sadomasochistic sexual fetish favored in the Castro District of San Francisco and also in many Senate chambers and much of rural Texas, a representative of the archdiocese replied, "Bzzbzzbzz! What's that? I'm sorry, you're breaking up. I must be in a tunnel or something. Can you call back later?" as much giggling was heard in the background. •As an addendum to the Vatican's recent decision to update its master list of sins to include drug use, extreme wealth, abusing the environment and rolling around joyfully in warm pools of vodka and Astroglide and the soft sighs of coy wood nymphs, Bishop Antonio Gianferrari of the Apostolic Penitentiary has issued a new decree by which all priests of Rome must undergo a brief medical procedure in which a tiny electrical device is implanted just beneath the foreskin. The micro-sensor, known as God's Little Cherub and which measures holy heart rate, heaviness of breathing and blood flow to the penis, is designed to deliver an electric shock ranging from mild to "Cazzo!" depending on lust quotient, whenever Roman priests come into proximity of nubile flesh. The diode also reportedly shoots an electrical impulse deep into the Earth which triggers Prince's 1987 megahit "U Got the Look" to play on Satan's iPod. •In an unusual move, the New York Archdiocese, famous for recently publishing an anti-pedophile coloring book for children in which smiling priests are depicted as being blocked from coming anywhere near totally cute altar boys by teams of female angels who presumably have said priest's naughty bits in a vise, has officially barred all tantalizing sexual beings from coming within a six-block radius of church property during the priests' most vulnerable hours. This period, known as the "Dark Hour of the Multiple Heavy Sighs," normally falls somewhere after supper but just before "America's Next Top Model," and is apparently a time when many priests can be found alone in the back of the church, flipping through back issues of Martha Stewart Living and cruising MySpace as they question their life choices and wonder what it would've been like to have followed their original dream of moving to Costa Rica and opening a vegan cafe/pot farm and dating young beautiful surfer boys with long wavy hair who just so happen to look, not at all ironically, exactly like Jesus. •"We're bringing back daily mortification," said a gleeful Father Jonathon Percival of the Archdiocese of Greater Oklahoma, referring to the practice of self-immolation and general all-around uncomfortable suffering, sometimes but not always including the violent daily lashing of oneself with a large barbed whip, "like that albino guy in 'The Da Vinci Code.'" Reminded by the same reporter from the above item that self-flagellation with large leather whips is also often considered a big, fat turn-on for millions of fetishists worldwide, the priest blinked a few times, turned a very bright color of crimson and began shuddering all over in what appeared to be some sort of rapturous delight as his eyes rolled back and body convulsed and a long moan escaped his being. And then he fainted. •"Here at Opus Dei, despite all the rumors, we are much less interested in self-immolation and the sewing of painful spikes into the insides of your underwear, and far more interested in leveraged buyouts and carefully planned upticks in shareholder valuation," said Opus Dei headmaster Father Lewis Straithairn, between long, slow strokings of a hissing, hairless cat on his lap. "In other words, what people don't know is we turn our adherents into devout, hard-nosed businesspersons, placing them in the highest positions of power in large corporations, where they toil deep into the night in the name of Jesus, preparing briefings and presentations and financial reports. "Naturally, turning anyone into a cold corporate drone in the name of God quickly defeats all sexual urges, as it effortlessly annihilates the soul and replaces it with this chalky gray powder that looks like scorched flowers and tastes like sadness." •"Dude, don't get me wrong, Maiden is completely awesome and old Motorhead blows my mind. Hell, even early Def Leppard totally rocks. But there is simply no comparison to the masters of all British metal, you know?" gushed paunchy computer programmer and 'World of Warcraft' fanatic Todd Freebury, 42, of Modesto. "I mean, have you heard 'Hell Bent for Leather' lately? Or 'Screaming for Vengeance'? And the notes Halford hits on 'Beyond the Realms of Death' from 'Stained Class' way back in '78 are positively epic," Freebury continued excitedly, before slamming the last of his Coors Light and staggering into the OfficeMax Arena for a concert by the famed British heavy metal band Judas Priest. "Priest Rules!" he yelled, apparently completely misinterpreting the headline to this story and appearing in this column by charming accident. "Priest rules! Priest rules! Priest rules!"
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