Thursday, December 28, 2017

The story of Saint Francis of Abraveboi.

Abraveboi is a little town not far from Nuova Lazio. In the old days the only access was by a one lane dirt road. It was here that a boy named Francis grew up with his parents. His father. Giuseppe Bata, was a cobbler and dreamed of opening a shoe factory, but young Francis felt he had a strong calling from God.

St. Francis wearing a table cloth
with a flag and a yellow plate.
Francis liked to dress up in table cloths and often carried a flag. He also liked to sleep with his head resting on a yellow plate. It was clear that he was not a run of the mill boy. One day he walked to the Catholic Church in nearby Nuona Lazio and told the local priest that he'd like to become a saint.
The priest told Francis that the best way to become a saint was to be martyred.
Becoming a martyr was easier said than done and Francis struggled to find anyone in Nuova Lazio who was prepared to put him to death. He put together a pile of stones but no one seemed interested in throwing them at him.

Maybe they were too heavy to throw?
The priest told Francis that saints normally performed a few miracles so he decided to learn a few magic tricks.

First he tried card tricks.


Then he worked up a trick making doves appear.


People started paying attention when he did a fire trick.


But it was when he made a lady float that he really started to get some attention.


People started to wonder if he was in league with Satan.

Satan
Finally people became interested in throwing stones at him.

"You took your time fellas!"
Everybody was happy. The stone throwers were happy because the scary unexplainable magic tricks stopped. Francis was happy because he died and went straight to Heaven. Giuseppe was happy because he started a shoe factory and Satan was happy because he knew the stone throwers would eventually go to Hell.

A few years later Francis was canonised.



He became Saint Francis of Abraveboi.





12 comments:

  1. I hope you're being quiet and not banging around in the kitchen in Napier.

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  2. Still in bed actually
    Going back to Auckland today and then Whangarei on Friday..
    Access to the desktop computer will enable posting and your confederacy will be sorted out matey!

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  3. Of course I may not be able to match the standard of Robert's posts straight away but I'll work up to it.

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  4. You'll be pleased to know that Uncle Steve's final act before leaving was to take a big dump. Poetic.

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  5. A poetic dump?
    Like 'An Ode To A Toilet Bowl'
    'The Waste Man'
    'For Whom The Bowel Tolls'
    'Whiff'
    'The Flush'
    'I Sit And Think'
    'I Shit And Stink'
    'Wind'
    'Ode On Solitude'
    'To His Missed Truss '
    'The Ancient Manurer '
    'Psalm Number Two'

    Etc.




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  6. The blog directory said that Baxter can be contacted via this blog. Is that right? I guess given this confederation's inconsistency it may not be the case but anyway - I have a message for Baxter from Reacher, Humbert and Gardener. They said: "Tell Baxter that he'll soon be dog tucker" whatever that means.

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  7. Reacher is now 57 years old (born 1960). Send someone younger if you want to scare Baxter. Humbert? Gardener? HGAF!

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