Hands shaking, fever pitch, this is difficult for me to type, ummm, but, here goes.
I am. Wow. Papabili. First vote is this afternoon, and upon carefully considered prayer and applique of logic, I have realized. I am Papabili.
In retrospect, I should have realized. The black sedans always within my vision. The fact that I possess fine and well-kept pirate regalia, or at least an eyepatch and bandana.
I am, well, prepared. Some major changes coming. Gonna loot the Vatican, sell everything, actually helping the poor, with, say food and heat. Hymns by MC Frontalot. Allowing gay priests to marry. Oh, again, the whole actually helping of the poor.
I grew up Catholic, not so much anymore, as they are fundamentally evil, but I can fix that.
I was surprised, but should not have been. The signs were there, all along. From a young age, the long conversations the parents had with the nuns and priests at my school. Co-workers, acquaintances, throughout life, looking at me with what I can only assume to be awe, reverence, wonder.
You were here. I love you all. Domino caravan, moondance.