I couldn’t make this stuff up:

            I woke up one Sunday morning feeling that I ought to go to church with Avon. Now, I go to church often, or sometimes, or when there’s a wedding, funeral, or christening. Friends have warned me that if I walked into a church on my own that the roof would fall in, so I was a little nervous and kept my eye on the ceiling. The priest was doing a bang up job; he was a humorous old ripper. He was almost finished when he looked up and saw me. He faltered. He excused himself and had to sit down for about a minute, and then got up and resumed. As he was preparing the communion, he looked at me again, slumped over, and collapsed. I thought, “Uh oh, I killed a priest.” and started looking for an exit. Folks ran up, messed with him, and determined that he was having a diabetic reaction. They called for a diabetes kit or some candy. When I go to places where I can’t talk I always carry little Brach’s mints to keep my mouth from getting bored. So, I took some up, and they gave them to him. In a few minutes, he was starting to come out of it. When the paramedics were taking him to the ambulance, he was talking his head off in Latin (he still had his microphone on). I suspect that he was warning them about me, but nobody could understand him.

            I told a friend about this and he said that Rome would probably declare it The Miracle of the Mint and have me canonized. Does that mean they are going to use a cannon on me?

An Extra Dose

Books by Lou Bradshaw available on Amazon Kindle

 A Fine Kettle of Fish – Hickory Jack – Blue – Ace High – Blue Norther – Cain

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