Applying for the Pope Job

Pope Nominating Committee
Vatican City

Dear Sirs,

I saw on that you have an opening for the Pope position at your company and I would like to submit my application.   I think after reviewing my credentials you will agree that I am uniquely qualified for the job.

From what I understand you are looking for someone to carry on the long tradition of being the messenger of Christ.   According to the Bible, Jesus was the result of an immaculate conception, which is what started Him in the immensely profitable Son of God business, which your company took over in a leveraged buyout shortly after His demise.

Here is where I can bring my unique skill set into play – because I too, am the Son of God.  Before you think I am some wacko NRA gun toting Rick Santorum follower, let me assure you I have proof.  My parents never had sex, in fact I doubt my alleged father even got to second base with her.

My parents grew up during the Dark Ages in towns like Mayberry R.F.D.. Women were named ‘Mabel’ and ‘Thelma’, while men were cursed with ‘Gomer’ and ‘Barney’. Trust me, people named Thelma, Mabel, Gomer and Barney do not have sex. Their lives were so boring that colors weren’t even invented yet – everything was in black and white.

Enclosed please find pictures of my alleged father, and my mother.  Can you imagine them fucking?  No it’s impossible.  Can you imagine my mother even giving my “Dad” a blowjob?  The only time my mother was down on her knees was while praying for the winning lotto numbers – so she could buy a Prada purse, Prada shoes and a matching Prada colonostomy bag.

I am one hundred percent positive that my alleged father never tried to get my mother drunk so he could take advantage of her – and I am damn sure even if he did, there is no way he could have gotten into her pants because her clothes were hermetically sealed to her body. Sex was like that old 7-Up advertisement to them…they never had it – and never will.

Besides the obvious miracle of my birth, there are a few other miracles I’ve performed.  First of all there is the miracle I performed on my girlfriend Nina Pennington.  Nina is the hottest girl in my class and I managed to get her to give me a blowjob despite my not having an iPhone 5 and my having a huge pus filled zit on my nose.   The second miracle I performed was when I got Hollywood to fall off his wallet and pay me, with a check that cleared, for the screenrights to my novel, “While I’m Dead…Feed the Dog.”

I also have all the management skills that one needs to be Pope.  I got my brother Stephan to do all my chores, mow the lawn and wash my mother’s car with the promise that I would pay him back big time after he was done.  It’s the logical extension of what the Pope does, telling people if they are good now, he will pay them back big time with a place in Paradise after they are dead.

I also have some great, or you could say “miraculous” marketing ideas to bring some much needed money into the Church’s coffers which must be needed due to your having to pay all the money out in legal settlements for your priests butt-fucking little boys all the time.   I don’t want to give them all away but I will offer you this one on the house.  I would have the Church change suppliers for its communion wafers.    We would change to a new company I started called ‘Vati-choc®’.  I have a recipe for chocolate covered wafers, which would be laced with my exclusive blend of cocoa and nicotine extracts.  In my initial tests I was able to create Vati-choc® addicts after only a couple of tastings.  These addicts will go out and sin just to get the relaxing soothing taste of Vati-choc®; and as you know more sinners means more confessions, and more confessions mean greater attendance at Mass, meaning more dough in the collection plate translating to higher profits and better Christmas bonuses for all employees.  I’m sure you could use a little something extra in your pay envelope; maybe you could go buy some hipper clothes to replace the old habits the nuns are wearing.   Once we do that I’m sure we can find a gay designer to create a new habit of Lycra catsuits and black patent leather thigh high boots with stiletto heels.  Using the Church’s tax exempt status we would open up a chain of tax-free nun bars in every city – and the Church would be restored to profitability in a matter of weeks.

I understand your last Pope belonged to the Nazi party as a teenager.  I grew up in St. Louis and my mother took me to a Republican party barbeque where I was forced to listen to Pat Buchanan speeches.  So you can see we shared the same background.

I look forward to a call from you to arrange an interview.


Ric Thibault

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