Ahh, Vatican roulette. If you two end up in purgatory I will offer up all my ejaculations to get you over the threshold and into the promised land…
I have to say, before Mrs. A and I got married oh those many years ago, we had to go to the "Engaged Encounters" (Pre-Cana) weekend program offered by the diocese, held at some local chain motel outside of Baltimore. There were two rather hilarious moments.
First, at one point they brought this relatively young couple in to talk about natural family planning. Naturally, they had like 3-4 kids, but they were trying so hard in their testimonial, with the husband saying "it really works!" and the wife literally sitting there crying.
I was personally a catalyst in the second. At the conclusion of one session, they decided that we should all spend a few minutes contemplating whatever the content was they'd just gone over (I forget), and to "help" us in that endeavor, they were going to put some music on that the presenter couple was really fond of. Well, they chose about THE WORST 70s ERA CATHOLIC FOLK SONG YOU COULD POSSIBLY IMAGINE. So, I'm immediately sweating, I'm shaking, and my face is literally turning red as I'm trying to squelch the laughter. I look around, and frankly, so are most of the other red-blooded American males in the room, and the future Mrs. A is squeezing my hand VERY tightly. But then it happened. You see, in most music, the lyricist generally tries to give a nod to classic poetic conventions like a rhyme scheme. Sometimes, it's ABAB, sometimes it's ABBA, but it's usually pretty conventional and pretty predictable. Well, for whatever reason, the lyricist for this particular song decided it would be a good idea to use a rhyme scheme that was sort of along the lines of ABA...F. So when we got to the fourth line of the already bad lyrics, and I'm expecting B (because that's what thousands of years of poetic conventional conditioning does to a person), and they hit me with F, I simply couldn't contain myself any longer and just burst out in full throated, uncontrolled laughter. And of course, that caused all the other men in the room to do so while their fiances shook their heads and the instructors sat their with a puzzled look on their faces. When we went to the break, future Mrs. A just turned to me and said, "they ****ing deserved that."
You've been warned, Brian.