Dear God

The very last time I was in a church solely for religious purposes was for my christening.

Thereafter, thank Christ, my parents drop-kicked the whole caper.

Which means that my subsequent trips to the gateways of heaven have been for the purposes of weddings and funerals. Where you could always find me outside, bludging a smoke off another sinner.

Oh and there was the accidental drop-ins to services in the tourist cathedrals of Europe.

It’s bloody embarrassing flopping around in the middle of someone else’s conversation with the almighty.

I always got out of it by fluffing around the buying of a candle, lighting it and then exiting with some Mr Bean-like pantomime in attempt to professionally splash holy water around my thorax in what I imagined was the appropriate approximation of the correct polygon.