An ass by any other name

Haw haw haw

Dinner one evening chez N & A in northern Greece. Mr McG was down at the far end of the table. At coffee time, a lovely lady who’d been sitting next to him moved closer and told me how much she admired me for riding a donkey into church.

I blinked at her… She took a step back. “It IS true isn’t? I so want it to be true.” So I acknowledged it was true, whilst glancing sideways at Mr McG, who was looking immensely pleased with himself.

She asked me how it had come about and would I do it again and where did I find the donkey and wasn’t I worried it would crap in church and so on.

I responded as best I could, before making my excuses and going over to smack Mr McG about the head.

In fact, the last time I’d set foot in church, I’d caught the kind of hysterical giggles you sometimes get on very sad occasions, because not only did Mr McG sing the unknown French hymns loudly and proudly off-key, but he also took communion because he was bored. And I happen to KNOW that atheists are not allowed to do that or they get smote by a thunderbolt or something.

And look what happened.