There was a time in Spain that a cardinal of the holey roamin’ catchalick church could go about his business without bare-breasted furies yelling in his face and throwing faux-bloodstained panties at his purpurate person, unless previously requested.
Such times are no longer. Yesterday cardinal Tony Rouco, the top rancid cheese of the Spanish church, got booby-smacked by militant feminists protesting the new abortion law that effectively makes it illegal again. These are the Femen ladies of Pussy Riot fame, who use their trademark tittay attack as an effective media attention grabber, sort of like PETA but without the playmates. The Femen booby smack has been getting around of late; in every shape and size, and even a full frontal or two (you’re gonna have to find those yourself). How many fcks are given to their antics and what real impact they have remains to be seen, but one way or another the genie is out of the soutien and nipple power is on the rise.
The Femen troops have one thing right: the powers-that-be do not like militant tittay challenging the patriarchy. Bare-breasted women have brought nothing but trouble to the all-guys club since the times of the Amazons, not to mention the French revolution where a topless woman holding a bayonet led the revolting masses. Never a comforting thought for Spanish strictocracy, especially with a direct descendant of Looie the Headless Bourbon currently perched on the throne.
For the church, as part of the corrupt power structure and self-styled guardians of the Moral, the sight of tittays out in full daylight along with body paint reading “Tony stay out of my cunt” is like a wooden stake to the left kidney. Not quite a death blow, but a painful reminder that one can’t keep things covered forever, and sooner or later all will be revealed. Things like this is what keeps freaks like the Rouco from enjoying bowel movements with the regularity recommended by Bhutan Happiness Index guidelines. When the Furies reach the gates you can safely assume your goose is cooked, although I doubt the Rouco is into Greek classics but then again with these perverts one never knows….
By all appearances –and I use this word in the widest possible sense– the catchalick church has its day of reckoning at the portico. The signals are coming on fast and hard in the physical and metaphysical realms –including the spectacular photos of the pope’s peace dove being attacked by a gull AND a crow– but for me the bobby smack pretty much says it all. The Rouco’s days as prelate are over, he won’t make it to summer with the furies outside and the Jesuit pope inside. But he won’t fall alone, as God’s Work is his witness, and the waves will wash down all the way to the hallowed halls of Roam.
This blog doesn’t have tittay of its own to toss into the fray, but it supports uncompromising militancy against the system in any form. Humanity needs all the warriors it can muster, and if the booby smack can create its own battlefront, it is welcome. It matters not whether we agree on every detail; if we can agree that the corrupt power structure is our common enemy, gird those loins and tweak those nips… we’re on.