I will be the holy mother Mary as I bought the bloody table in the first place and our Bible is Nausea by Jean Paul Sartre. Bring it on, you motherfunkers. We won't have prayers. We shall instead have Iggy and the Stooges and The Clash. And we will drink tea. English tea.

This is the real deal. Who wants to stand in a church with a bunch of permed grannies when you can have the real deal. Kick out the gods, spit on the Jesus. Screw up the bankers.

Too bloody right.