Oh, FFS, Let Him Be Pope Already

No, I’m not kidding. It’s best for everyone.

He can live and “work” in a pile like he’s always dreamed, marble and gold out the wazoo, makes that Mag-a-Lardo look like a Motel 6, ya heard me? Let’s see that Helmsley top this, huh?

Think of how much easier the press will have it, too, not having to carefully edit his pronouncements into something resembling English. As Holy Father, he’ll be able to mutter indecipherable nonsense and everyone will just assume it’s Latin.

And, hey, the guy digs golf carts? How ‘bout a double decker, with a raised platform just so he can be higher than anyone else on the links? He can rename it the Trumpmobile. He’ll like that.

And if a bunch of straight, white guys pretending to dignity while trying to figure out their spot in the pecking order’s your thing, forget the White House. The Vatican’s been shuffling Houses of Cards for a lot longer than our quaint, little republic’s been around, pard.

Yeah, the more I think about it, St. Peter’s throne may be just the bone to throw our old dog. All the pomp, no expectations. Plus, we’ll all pretend he’s infallible. He’s been wanting to hear that for a long time.

Best of all, as Dzhugashvili reminds us, how many divisions, or nukes, has the pope? Win-win.

Bless me, Father, for I have blogged.