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Maybe I Should Do Public Policy

So there I was, praying the Rosary, as is my custom--wait, I digress; you see, it was 1 AM, and even though it was technically the next day, God is not an impatient curmudgeon with a pocket watch. I must have been tired. Had to be. I get to the end of the fourth Sorrowful Mystery--yes, Sorrowful--and I get to the 'O My Jesus'. It's supposed to be, "O my Jesus, forgive us our sins, save us from the fires of Hell, lead all souls to Heaven, especially those in most need of Thy mercy." A noble prayer, and we Catholics know it well. Instead, I say, "O my Jesus, forgive us our sins, save us from the fires of Hell, lead all souls to Heaven, especially those in most need of Thy fundraising." Yes, this really happened. I stop and say to no one in particular, "What did I just say? Fundraising? What?" [What are you, a megachurch pastor?--ed.] I know, right? So, obviously this becomes the funniest thing this side of my brother and sister-in-law's Wedding Guest Dutch Oven Story. You don't want to know. Or maybe you do!
But I'm laughing all the way through the fifth Sorrowful Mystery--the crucifixion and death of Our Lord, mind you--and I realize that if God were a curmudgeon, laughing during the Sorrowful Mysteries would net me what, 190,000 years in Purgatory? Oh, man. Maybe the Holy Spirit knows something I don't (obviously) about someone who needs money? [Maybe you were daydreaming again about being Rick Santorum's campaign manager in 2020.--ed.] Forget that; President Romney could retire early, and I'll do it in 2016.

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