Archive | March, 2013

Local All Boys Catholic School to Allow Gay Couple At Junior Prom. Hallelujer.

28 Mar

Local all boys Catholic School to allow gay couple to attend junior prom.  That’s ballsy. (no pun intended… well maybe a little)

It’s my son’s school.  I am happy as a clam.  I don’t mean this blog to be in any way all preachy, self-righteous or gloating.  I don’t even mean it to be a thumbed nose at those who oppose gay rights.  I simply mean it as an expression of love in my heart.

I felt so much love and pride when my lovely beau told me about this news piece this morning…

McQuaid To Allow Gay Couple At Junior Prom.

McQuaid Jesuit High School is an all boys Catholic school in Rochester, NY.  It’s pretty pricey and exclusive and known for turning out incredibly successful young men.  Every year it counts numerous acceptances to the top colleges in the nation among it’s seniors.  My son now attends NYU mostly on merit scholarship.  It also counts many men of other religions as it’s students and graduates because it has such a tremendous academic reputation.

An excerpt taken from the WHAM 13 article:

“Rochester, N.Y. – McQuaid Jesuit High School told parents Wednesday through a letter it will allow a gay couple to attend this year’s Junior Prom.

The school’s president, Fr. Edward Salmon, wrote, “I have made the decision that, if our two brothers who have asked to attend the Junior Ball together wish to do so, they will be welcomed.”

I couldn’t be more proud that my son is a 2012 graduate of McQuaid Jesuit High School.  I just went to their huge black tie fund raiser this past weekend with my beau who is also an McQ graduate.  As a matter of fact the two young gentleman in question were the servers for our table.  Incredibly nice fine upstanding boys.

I love the people there, it’s a family.  And boy can we Catholics drink!  Coincidentally, my ex-husband is also an McQ graduate.  I always heard my son talking about how they preached “brotherhood”, “be a man for others”, and basically don’t just be ordinary, be extraordinary.  Seek knowledge, be loving, be brave, be a leader is the jist.  I’m just bubbling over with joy that I made the right decision to send him there.

Ok everyone knows I’m a huge gay groupie.  I’ve had some of my closest friends now and since high school that are gay men and women.  I totally knew it back then too.  Oh hell there were a couple of you that I knew it when we were in grade school.  I just seem to attract people who may otherwise not be accepted sometimes.  Maybe people see me and think “Oh that broad looks gay-friendly”.   I hope it’s just because I look “people-friendly”.  (and because I’m fabulous lol)

Anyway… so I’m all for gay rights.  My gay friends to me are not sub-human nor sub-American.  However, I am also for respecting other’s opinions.  I may not agree but as long as you are not lashing out in any way, you have your right to your opinion.  But what I don’t like is either side bashing the other.  Ain’t nobody got time for that!  You’re no better than the other party if you are hatin’.

Just like being Catholic.  We all know what the Catholic church stands for, but my local priest says we should still love and support the people that are involved in the things the church disagrees with.  Bingo!  That’s why I go to that church.

So I’m pleased as punch, proud as a peacock today.  I stand with loving and respecting others and I’m so proud of my son’s alma mater and it’s community and having the courage to make a controversial decision with dignity.  You go!

Untold Freak Hipster Shenanigans of Madge…

26 Mar

I have a new little guilty pleasure.  Every Monday night I sit down and watch “The Carrie Diaries” with my two teenage daughters.  You know it’s that sort of pre-Sex and the City “Carrie Bradshaw – The Wonder Years” kind of thing.  Her in her teens in 1984.  The girls like it because it involves teenagers and it shows them what life was like for Mom when she was in high school and college.

For me… it reminds me that I’ve actually lead a pretty interesting life.  For instance, in the show Carrie somehow finagles an internship at Interview magazine.  Interview magazine was founded in 1969 by Andy Warhol.  Very artsy, very hip.  Now Interview magazine was my bible when I was in college 1983-1987.  I had a subscription and used to save all the issues under my bed.  I had stacks of them.  I must have thrown them out when moving out of college.  :(  The same thing with the Village Voice, the iconic New York City newspaper.  Had stacks under my bed.  No idea where they went.  Even though I was in college in Maine, I was a New York City hipster at heart.

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I would have given my left nut (wait, what?) to live Carrie’s life back then.  Sans, the fabulousness because I was a punk/new wave hipster back in the day.  The days before hipster became douchie.  However today I could do the fabulous, I already do.  Hey girl hey!  Yes, Carrie is a fictional character but that’s the life I dreamed of back then.  I won’t lie, I still dream about it.  If I hit it big right now, I’d move to NY in a heartbeat.  Live in the Village but try to avoid my son at NYU so I wouldn’t cramp his style.  It would be a little creepy for Mom to crash his fraternity kegger.

So yea, once upon a time I was cutting edge.  I was a radio DJ.  The name of my show was “Soaking in it with Madge”.  The ole Madge the Manicurist Palmolive reference, get it?  Ok, back then it was relevant.  I went to gay clubs before it was cool because they had the best music.  Dude, seriously nowhere else could you dance to “Kiss Me” by Tin Tin?  They didn’t even play that on the radio!

Speaking of gay clubs… did I ever tell you about the first (and only) time I was introduced to a hardcore gay club?

So, I worked at a summer camp near Pittsfield, MA in the Berkshires during college.  Which in itself is a whole other slew of stories.  It was a camp for young Jewish girls from the NYC area (and FL), none of us counselors were Jewish.  The girls were all wealthy self-proclaimed JAPs (Jewish American Princesses).  Again, for another time…

So on one of our nights off one of our friends took a few days off and we needed to go pick her up at the train station in Springfield at like 11pm.  Turns out her train was late and we needed to kill some time.  So there were about I think 6 of us girls and one obviously gay guy (Larry the theater counselor).  We girls all had funky asymmetrical haircuts and wore boxer shorts for shorts and had boxer shoes with scrunchy socks.  I’m sure we looked like freaks.

We were walking down the street looking for a place to sit and have a drink.  So we ask this very friendly black guy with a giant afro with a fro pick sticking out the back what was open for a drink.  He says “Oh oh yea, I know what you guys are looking for”.  So we follow him to this restaurant, and we figure oh great perfect.  No, he says follow me.  We go down a back hallway, turn a corner, go down a flight of stairs, down another hall, 2 more flights of stairs, hallway… and enter a dank basement.  I’m thinking we’re going to die, but we turn a corner and what’s there?  A bar with a tranny bartender, a makeshift dance floor with bare lightbulbs hanging down, bare chested men in biker and S&M gear with thick mustaches grinding on each other.  It sounds cliche’ but I thought I was in a Village People video.  We were actually kind of in heaven because it was a buffet of people watching.

Then somebody grabs us and says, “Oh no we think you want to be back here”.  We follow them down another hallway, passed a guy pressing another guy dressed as a woman up against the wall and fondling his/her junk (it wasn’t such a good tuck and tape job).  We get to this back room and it’s all women.  Yup, very butchy, shaved head, Members Only jacket wearing women.  Uhhhh, I guess we’ve been brought to the lesbian room.  Funny, we alterna-girls did look a bit like the crowd in that room but none of us were lesbians.  There was lots of masculine-type posturing and leering.  No offense ladies, but the other room was a bit more entertaining.

Finally we decide we need to go pick up our friend.  Our one friend Jill from Texas who was quite goofy and loud was like “No y’all I’m havin’ fun!”  She kept asking people to dance, I thought we were going to get our asses kicked.  Not sure if she thought it was a novelty or was kind of mocking the lesbians in asking them to dance, but either way you just don’t want to mess with that.  We drag her out.  A tranny starts to follow us, I think he/she wanted to hang.  He/she was strung out on something, we didn’t want to be saddled with that so we ran.

And ran all the way to the train station.  Laughing our asses off.  It was only 1984, that story probably doesn’t sound like much by today’s standards but it was a complete freak show that people didn’t know existed by 1984 standards.

When I think about it… my life still consists of some pretty strange/fun events like that.  I was hesitant to tell about them, having kids and all.  But then my friends started asking me “How come you never mention us in your blog?”.  Hmmmm, maybe because you all belong to a country club, own companies or are CEOs, have children and don’t really think it’s right to talk about the time we all went swimming in our underwear at a party, or parked the car in the bushes, or drunkenly tried to crawl on top of a golf cart and hit a shot from there, or during a golf outing stole a cart and took off down East Ave. to visit a friend across the street, or broke several glasses at the club trying to do the “pull the tablecloth out from under the dishes” trick.  (that was a huge run-on sentence, but for effect)  But ok, I’ll mention all that stuff if you want?  Next time… :)

However it does beg the question… if I write for entertainment and have some great juicy stories, at what point can I/should I tell them without worrying about my kids?  16?  18?  21?  You tell me…

Whoopsie, Pull Down Your Social Media, Your Crazy is Showing…

20 Mar

I try so hard to make sure what I post on Facebook or Twitter isn’t annoying.  Really, I do.  But ya’ know, inevitably someone will think I’m annoying.  One man’s hilarious is another man’s “she annoys the fuck out of me”  What can ya’ do?

But I try hard to avoid the cliches that people most often complain about like:

1. The food report “Making meatloaf and mashed potatoes for dinner. Yum!”

2. The whine “Day 2 of being home sick, oh I feel so terrible and wish someone would make me soup”

3.  The health overshare “I just got home from the doctor, still can’t figure out what is wrong.  Still have purple ooze coming from my rectum. But doc said my mologium levels are normal. Will test my saliva tomorrow”

4. The subliminal message “Some people just can’t stop talking about me can they? You better check yourself bitch, I’m on to you.”

5.  The man/woman scorned that makes you look like an idiot post “I just had a man tell me I’m needy and dump me.  I’m sorry I just want to know where you are all the time, it’s in case I need you or you might do something bad. Sorry you can’t handle my love, jerk.  I’ll find a real man who can.”

6.  The boring cliche post “Oh Mondays”

7.  The inspirational quote “When Life Gives You Lemons… at Least You Won’t Get Scurvy!”  oh wait, that’s the title of my upcoming book!  But that has a funny twist, a boring one would be “God only gives us what we can handle”

8.  The uneducated rant “Yea, this country is going to hell because all you Liberals need to have your front wheel drive shopping carts.  You know they gave us a new tax on that, didn’t you?  We need to take our country back!”

9.  The desperate grab for attention “Look at my 8,000 selfie that looks like all the others!”  or “Hey, I’m running through the house naked” – oh wait that was me.  :(

10.  The boring ass Happy Birthday wish “Happy Birthday!”  You can’t even mention their name?  Could you be any more lazy or uncreative?  (I may have done this in a hurry, sorry)

 

So these things I find humorous and try to avoid.  The one thing I’ve tried hard to avoid since I think I have already done it about 8 years ago on MySpace was the public descent into madness.   Oh I was riding the “the world hates me” wave hard.

“Caution:  Whacky Post Crossing”

I’ve seen this person lately who um is someone I’ve only known online for years.  This person was always a little, I don’t know, just not very bright but always doing cocky flirting.  Trust me, you have nothing to be cocky about.  Not to be a bitch but, this person can’t string a cohesive sentence together with more than 2 words spelled right.  They boast of being an uneducated redneck.  Ok, knock yourself out.

But recently this person has posted several times a day about how we will soon need to retreat to survivalist bunkers and stuff about NY State gun laws will soon be taking our children as wards of the State and putting them in work camps.  The twist is, this person thinks they could be the savior.  They don’t know how these overeducated “experts” can’t figure everything out but he/she can.  Yes, perhaps we should have a person with 14 kids out of wedlock that can’t hold a job, drinks all day, and can’t spell cat to fix the country.  This person doesn’t even know the branches of government or how a bill becomes a law.  (I recommend Schoolhouse Rock for that)

There’s nothing we can do.  I’ve tried to leave the casual “So and so, calm down, concentrate on your family then help fix us” or something nice but rational.  It seems to get them riled up and the country needs them even more.  And the person’s friends seem to goad them on.  Like yea “So and so for President”.  It’s like dumb and dumber.

I’ve also seen the person that is being driven mad by their own paranoia of the opposite sex.  This person is totally convinced all opposite sex are evil.  Everyone cheats.  Um maybe people just keep telling you they are in a relationship to get you away from them because you are crazier than a shithouse rat and are uber creepy?

It could just be something they’re going through, but it could be a serious mental health or substance problem.  Who knows?

What do you do when you watch somebody taking the express bus to crazy town in a very public way on social media?  Or if somebody is riding the Bitter Bus like it’s the bus in the movie “Speed”. We can’t stop it or we’ll die!   (Someone please tell me if I exhibit these behaviors so I can eject immediately…)

Madge and the St. Patty’s Day Biker Gang

14 Mar

As some of you might know I’m pretty damn Irish.  My name is Margaret Frances Madigan.  Maybe just a little Irish?   My Father’s family is all off the potato famine boat all around.  It all boils down to (and that’s not a potato joke) me being raised in a very very Irish Catholic family.

So it’s the big weekend coming up.  This year it’s nice because the big parade in town and St. Paddy’s day are in the same weekend.  I’ll be riding on the Ladies Ancient Order of Hibernians float, then drinking at the smallest Irish dump I can find.

marching

My usual parade thing

I absolutely hate what St. Patrick’s Day (SPD herein out) has become.  It’s another drunken slut holiday now.  Yup, just like Halloween and New Year’s.  It’s now rife with big commercialism, bar specials, young girls in green tube tops and skimpy skirts, and drunken douchebag kids asking me if they can stick their tongue down my throat.  Hate it, hate it, hate it!

I liked SPD how it was when I was growing up, ya’ go to the Knights of Columbus fish fry or Mom cooked lamb stew then you either went to the American Legion or some other Irish dump.  You sat there with the drunk old men who told stories and gave you a dollar if you did a jig for them (now properly called Irish step dancing).  Oh and I forgot there was usually mass thrown in somewhere too.

But I do remember a very interesting SPD about 6 years ago.  I had just moved back to Rochester, NY  from a 7 year stint in Denver.  All of my old friends back here were now married with small kids or were our “couple friends” when we were married.  Because of this I didn’t have a bunch of going out friends when I first came back, just several acquaintances, so I used to venture out on my own a lot.

And that’s what I did that day.  I wandered around the parade a bit (hadn’t joined Hibernians yet) and was a little annoyed at drunk 20 somethings bumping into me and spilling beer on me.  So I tried to find the ole Irish hole in the wall.  I try Johnny’s which is usually a cool place.  But on parade day in the afternoon it was bereft of it’s usual dark, empty charm.  But there was a great assortment of folk for people watching.

I somehow got talking to this nice middle aged woman who was a friend of a friend as I was trying to get a drink.  She said she and her friends had a spot and to come over and stand with them.  I go over and was welcomed warmly by about 4 men and two women.  I did notice the men were heavily tattooed and wearing biker hats and sleeveless denim jackets and leather vests with patches and a motorcycle club emblem.  Cool!  I love colorful people.

They were extremely nice and funny.  The one rather large cuddly teddy bear guy with huge long beard was a few years younger than me and his name was “Tank”.  Tank became my protector and drink getter-er.  Sweet!

We are having a grand old time.  Laughing, talking, drinking.  And they start to talk about a party they need to be getting to at their motorcycle club and ask me if I want to go.  Now these people were all intelligent and had real jobs like paramedics and technicians but happened to be weekend warriors.  And well they told me their motorcycle club was big with the cops.  A lot of RPD are members.  Ok, so I go.

They say it’s at their “clubhouse”.  I got a little excited as I’m having visions of Marlon Brando and the Wild Bunch or one of those Frankie and Annette beach movies where they stumble on some bikers.  However, we get there and… it’s just a two story colonial house in a nearby average neighborhood.  Oh well.

We go in and there are other biker looking dudes and chicks and a few little kids with mullets.  A few tables with potluck food and random booze people brought.  All very friendly people.  Tank starts pouring the booze.  Tank starts downing the booze.

More people keep streaming in the door.  Oh hey, there’s a couple of firemen I know.  Phew, I feel a little more at ease.  We are having a great time.  There are several dogs running around, one of which had an extreme obsession with my crotch.

madge and dog

Actual picture from that day

My new friends kept checking on me to make sure I was having fun.  Tank would not leave my side.  More people kept coming in, it was starting to get a little crowded.  Oh hey I see guys in Hibernian jackets that hang out at Johnny’s.  Hey more RFD and RPD shirts and jackets on guys.  Wow this is becoming very cliche’, all the Firefighters and Police being Irish or celebrating their occupations Irish heavy heritage.  Rochester has a metro area of about 300,000 people.  I’ve read the greater metro area has about 1 million.  Depends what you read.  Anyway…

In comes several guys from the freakin’ cop’s pipe band.  Fun!  But it’s gettin’ a might crowded.  I find out this motorcycle club is nationwide and mostly a cop thing.  So I find out Tank is actually from Pittsburgh and there are various other people from all over.  I’m beginning to realize this is quite the big thing.  And every 2 minutes someone is touching my red curly hair and saying “Look at this fine Irish lass!”

I realized it even more as through the door walks this guy that looks familiar.  Hey, it’s Mayor Bob Duffy (at the time) who had been the Grand Marshall of the parade.  Incidentally now Bob Duffy is the Lt. Governor of the state of NY.  All of a sudden I’m like what the fuck kind of bizarro land did I enter?  At the same time Tank is getting hammered.

I needed to find the bathroom.  Tank says he’ll show me.  Tank not only shows me but walks me in and closes the door.  He says he just wants to talk.  I say that’s nice but I really need to use the bathroom and I’m not in the habit of doing it in front of strangers.  He then tries to kiss me.  He wasn’t rude or forceful, he was even trying to be a little romantic I think in a trapping-a-stranger-in-a-bathroom way.  I suddenly pulled the “Oh I think I’m going to be sick so get out of here” move.  He left.  I performed my duties (not throwing up though) and plotted my escape.

Luckily when I exit the bathroom he is talking to someone else.  I sprint down the stairs grab my stuff which happens to be on the chair the mayor is leaning on.  He said “Oh excuse me” must have realized I looked a bit frazzled and said “Did we scare you off?” and laughed.  I just smiled and laughed and said no.  I really wasn’t scared off.  I just didn’t feel like trying to duck a 300 lb. drunk biker dude all night.

I then walked a few blocks to a diner had some food and a bunch of water to sober up and later drove home.   But it wasn’t over, I guess I gave Tank my cell number early in the day in case we got separated.  A day or so later I started receiving texts professing his undying love.  Wow, guess I made an impression.   I unfortunately was just not feelin’ it.  Maybe I missed out, who knows.   What girl wouldn’t love romantic bathroom interludes?

Hey, You Gonna’ Finish That Pancreas?

12 Mar

So… who here is willing to give their heart to another?

What a romantic thought, huh?

No, I mean really.  Like as in your actual heart, the organ… physically.

And to give it to someone you don’t even know.

After your gone.  Passed on.  Ceased to be.  Expired and gone to meet your maker.  Bereft of life.

(Monty Python “Parrot sketch” anyone?)

I have a friend that is very dear to me, (I’ve just been a pain in the ass for him though heh heh) that is alive right now  due to the kindness of another human being who happened to choose to be an organ donor.

My friend is Gaetano “Gates” Orlando, a retired professional hockey player.  He played for many years for the Rochester Amerks, Buffalo Sabres, an Italian professional hockey team, and the Italian National team in 2 Olympics.

Gates was diagnosed with sarcoidosis, a rare form of heart failure in January 2011. Later that spring, he was fitted with a defibrillator vest as a safety net.  The device saved his life as he had sudden cardiac death (his heart stopped for 40 seconds) at his home on May 22, 2011. The vest shocked him back to life.

But obviously his heart was rapidly failing.  His heart was removed on April 4, 2012, and he survived with an artificial heart until transplant surgery on Feb. 4th of this year.

The transplant of a new heart donated by a person who believed it was important to leave part of themselves behind to help those in need.   Sounds corny but, that someone decided to give the precious gift of health and possibly life to someone after they were gone.

So why not be a donor?  Why not just make that choice at the DMV to mark your license as a donor?  Well, everyone has their reasons or concerns.  It’s ok, let’s talk about it…

For one… who wants to talk about death?  Kinda’ morbid, huh?  Well ya’ know what, shit happens and death happens.  It’s a part of life.  You know, the circle of life and all that jazz.  No one lives forever, might as well get used to it.  Start talking about it.  It’s ok, really.  Talk about what will happen to you at the end of your life with your loved ones.  And dude, make a will while you’re at it, seriously I’ve seen too many spouses and kids get screwed because there was no will.  Anyway…

Talk about end of life.  Consider becoming an organ donor.  I know you are afraid of a few things.  What happens if I’m not quite dead and then they take out something when I could have survived?  Believe me, that’s not happenin’.  A hospital will make every effort to save your life.  Get the ideas from the movies out of your head.  No one is harvesting organs to trade like they’re at the public market.  “We have a great deal on spleens today!”

Worried about still wanting to have an open casket if you donate?  No worries, you can still have one, they take great care in removing said organs or tissue.  Hey, it’s not like gutting a fish… even in death you are treated with dignity and with the utmost care.  So get the notion of being sliced and diced like a hibachi restaurant out of your head as well.

Another concern might be your family’s expenses.  Rest assured there is no cost at all to those you leave behind.

Think it might be bad juju with God?  All major religions in the United States support organ, eye and tissue donation and see it as the final act of love and generosity toward others.

Ok so, think of this… what if your organs weren’t used to save someone’s life but were used for research to possibly find cures that might save your Children, Grandchildren or Great-Grandchildren some day?  That’s kinda’ nice, huh?  Help out your little bubulas won’t you?

I’m not the be all authority on this, it’s best you go to www.donatelife.net to answer more of your questions or concerns.  You may also register to become a donor on that site along with the DMV.

I already chose to be a donor before Gates’ ordeal, but his transplant has me realizing the importance and the need.  And it has become and important cause that Gates wants to bring attention to.  He’s incredibly grateful to have his time on Earth extended, and so are his children.  And I’m grateful he’s my friend and he’s still here.  So please consider organ donation.  I know Gates would say “grazie”.  :)

So who’s an organ donor here?  Who’s thinking about it?

The Kardashian Speech Pattern Will Lead Us All to Hell

7 Mar

I can’t get this God damn thing to work today.  Click on this link below to see my video blog, “The Kardashian Speech Pattern Will Lead Us All to Hell”

 

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Choosing the Pope 21st Century Style – Call in to Vote, He’s Dreamy!

5 Mar

As a cradle Catholic (that means people who were born into serious Catholic families, I think) I’m vaguely interested in who our next Pope will be.  I still go to church and my kids go to Catholic school.  I’m no zealot though, I know the church as serious issues.  But ya’ know what, at my level going to mass is familiar and makes me feel at peace, makes me think, and makes me feel closer to God.  So fuck you.  :)

Um, yea the Pontiff.  So we’re gonna’ have to wait around and wait until all these Cardinals (or “The Birds” as I like to call them) debate over who their new boss is going to be.  After roughly 1,980 years of having Popes, I suggest we come into the modern age on picking Popes.

And maybe updating the names… tradition is nice and all but maybe we get some new names or dig back deep into the archives for some unused names.  Some names I found that I think we should resurrect, and I’m not kidding these were actual names of past Popes:

*Linus (64-79, no there shouldn’t be a 19 in front of that the actual year 64)

* Anticletus or Cletus for short (seriously) (79-92)

* Telesphorus (125-138)

* Urban (222-230) (is relevant in today’s society, could be recycled)

* Fabian (236-250)

* Felix – (269-274)

* Sylvester (314-335)

* Innocent (401-417)

* Hilarius (461-468)  (my favorite)

* Hadrianus (772-795)  (heh heh heh, Beavis he said anus)

Then when they get into the 900s they just start to repeat, gets a little boring.

So, how about some new names?

* Pope Jared

* Pope Sully (popular in NY and Boston)

* Pope Snoop (I don’t think he’s Catholic though)

* Pope Tayquan

* Pope Jayden

* Pope LeBron

* Pope Todd

Ok, mull that over.  How about some ways to elect the Pope?

* Have a “Pope Bee”.  Have candidates stand up and have to answer historical/theological questions or have to spell “Deuteronomy”

POPE JOHN PAUL II PICTURED IN UNDATED PHOTO

“Damnit, I know this one…”

* Have “The X Factor – Pope Edition”.  Candidates must perform the most entertaining mass around!

pope

“Come on everybody… wave your hands in the air… and wave ‘em like you just don’t care”

*  Lottery.

pope cheer

“I won!  I won!”

* Campaigning and popular vote.

obama-pope

 

“Did you know Pope Benedict voted 18 times to raise your tithing?”

 

* Project Runway/Toddlers and Tiaras style.  Judged solely on fashion and beauty by Heidi Klum, RuPaul, and Elton John.

pope-benedict-xvi-WI-0907-lg

“RuPaul loves the gold glitz, but Heidi Klum has a problem with the continuity of the Red Prada slippers”

* Likes on Facebook.

pope fb

“Get 1,000,000 Likes and win a chance to be the Pope!”

* ReTweets on Twitter contest

pope tweet

“RT to become Pontiff… or win an Apple iPad”

Looks like some solid ideas to me.  I personally like a breakdance battle myself to decide.

Come Vatican, pump up the pomp and circumstance and bring it into the modern era!

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