C. Wadsworth

Jack Mahoff

Morty Rabinovitzski

Anna Coldbottom

Hardy Bohner

Leah Nice

Daon Lo

Dr. Mengeli

Toby Thomas




This web site debunks the Big Lie of Liberal Media. We exist because so many people watch TV and surf the web like moths doing wingovers into tiki torch flames. Fly away, Love.  

Buy our Book Now!

Latest Articles

Ex-Priest likes Weiner Showing

Hardy Bohner
Posted on Apr 11 2018 at 8:54 AM
Latest Articles | Hardy Bohner

I must agree with our own C. Wadsworth Longfellow on this score: The aptly-named Weiner (Anthony, NYC Mayoral candidate) must not be pilloried for personal pulchritude in presenting his penis pictures to the public.

The penis is not profane. The penis must be allowed to breathe. It should not be kept hidden behind garments which cannot contain its power. The guilt I was taught to feel about the penis, my penis, is not healthy. I should be able to show my penis to any adult person I desire to share it with. I nearly committed suicide over the guilt I felt from the swelling in that troublesome organ each time the scent of a lovely woman wafted through the confessional screen. I was so close, so close, the sweet and slightly musky woolen scent once made me reel through my narrow door and collapse into the aisle. They had to awaken me by splashing holy water on my sweating face. It was very embarrassing.

From my side of the cloth screen in the confessional, I could not see many features of the person confessing, but I could make out the gently heaving breast of a sincere penitent, and even smell the sweetness of her breath when she sighed in recounting her sins. I could feel the power that sin held over that woman, and the power it held over me.

One of my regular penitents was a married woman, an apparent nymphomaniac. She confessed to me weekly her extra-marital flings – in cars, trains, airplane bathrooms, offices, taxi cabs – my imagination ran wild. Even as she tried to sound guilty and remorseful, I could sense her thrill when she slipped from her panties in the back of her son's friend's car, or just lovingly tugged them aside, or strategically tore her own pantyhose and embraced the hot burgeoning love of her latest passing paramour. I could sense her excitement grow as she recounted the tales of young men chasing tail and catching it. After a few weeks of this I realized that in confessing her wicked sins to me she was really only reliving them, reliving the excitement of them, and then I realized she was trying to "turn me on" as the saying goes, with her lurid tales. I realized also, at some point, that it was working, that the devil had climbed into her side of the confessional and was leading me, too, astray. I realized it because my pants grew incredibly tight and I worried that I could stain my garments.

That harlot drove me from the priesthood, I am afraid, and I have never been the same. But in a very real way she also did me a favor, as does this Weiner. I, too, am feeling free, and ready to share all the gifts my God has given me. C. Wad tells me I cannot post my most personal post on this web site, but I am beginning to explore all the options the world wide web offers to help me share my love for the world, my love for life, and my appreciation for having the opportunity to show what I've got to give.