The good Fraters

I have to say that I quite enjoyed my hour with the NARN crew last weekend. I don’t know if anyone caught it or not, but any time you’re given the opportunity to encourage a public school teacher to tell one of her fourth-graders (or whatever they were) that his two daddies are going to Hell AND completely botch an reenactment of the Monty Python abattoir sketch, well, that’s just a good time, that is.

I did sense a certain air of conspiracy about the boys, though. Powerline was away and the Fraters were in the mood to play. Saint Paul would say something in this completely innocent manner, as if he’d never read anything about me but my bio, to the tune of: “I understand that you might have some unusual perspectives on women in the workforce”, which left me no choice but to bring up the secret codes in Picasso’s paintings which reveal how Betty Friedan’s canonical work is actually a guide to reenacting the Kamasutra with statues of Baphomet that are given away free by the National Organization of Women with every 666th abortion.

Or something like that, I can’t remember exactly. I was drinking Amaretto Sours and watching my Arsenal Centurions DVD on the breaks. And speaking of the former, I just think I might….