Friday, 22 July 2016

Obituary: Father Michael Morris

So, Father Michael Morris has finally curled his toes. He mounted his very own Bucephalus on 15 July, and is now safely settled in that mighty casbah in the sky...unless of course what my mother said was true, that if you sin so badly and go to hell, you'll not be able to get close to the fire for clerics. He will be interred...or should that be "in turd"?...tomorrow. It is my idol Amália Rodrigues' birthday, so I will play him out with one of her most famous songs, "Caracoes"..."Snails", as quite a few of them will be keeping him company from now on.

So why, you might ask, am I  being so cynical and disrespectful about Father Michael Morris, aka Padre Liberace? He wrote a book, Madame Valentino, which essentially was a very good book...a little homophobic towards the end, but a good book all the same. 

Away from his typewriter, however, Father Morris was a vicious, scheming, vitriolic, nasty, prissy, mincing, lispy, spiteful, homophobic little queen. Indeed, where I was concerned, no act could be too spiteful for him to perpetrate. If I were God, I would be ashamed to know him. I met him in 1998 and, hand on heart, he came across only slightly less gay than an Amsterdam canal in July. And, may I say, my gaydar has always been spot on. "Do you have any pictures of Rudolph Valentino having sex with men, to prove your point in your book?" he demanded of me at a signing...bringing a ribald response from someone standing nearby, "Do you have any pictures of him sticking it inside a pussy, to prove yours?

I reviewed Padre Liberace's book and awarded it five stars on Amazon. He complained and had the revue removed! His own reviews of various books of mine...fifteen in all under different pseudonyms...are copied word for word in Rudolph Valentino's Magic Python. They are as nasty and vicious as he was. Three of them are worded exactly the same...only the name of the subject is changed. He was that stupid! I do not doubt that these will now be removed toot sweet. I have the screenshots.

Reading his reviews made me think about Father Michael's flock. Did they know how warped and spiteful he really was? His boss did because he read the reviews. Again, I have the screenshots. Talk about being a "cherished" member of The Order of Dominical Friars....he would have been better suited to serving The Order of Boilers, because he was very definitely not what he and others cracked him out to be. His was a cassock which very definitely swung to the left.

Oh, and the dead cannot sue. In his various guises, Padre Liberace told me this many times in his phoney, puerile reviews. Indeed, one of his beefs was that I only write about the dead. He obviously has never heard of Doris Day and Barbra Streisand...unless of course he whistled "Sam You Made The Pants Too Long" in private. Nothing surprises me nowadays.

Father Morris is also my second holy man detractor to snuff it whilst in office. Those of you familiar with my story will recall Lincoln Hurst, he of the Jesus sandals and dirty beard which looked like it housed its own hybrid colony of nits. Father Hurst took exception to my biography of Errol Flynn, so much so that he penned a THIRTY-page "exposé" of my work which he sent not just to my publishers and agent, but to every newspaper in the United Kingdom. I mean, what kind of loon takes the trouble to go through a book and nit-pick page by page, even to the point of telling me that Errol jumped down 15 steps in Don Juan and not 17? And what happened to his own biography of Flynn which he boasted would take the world by storm?  And how did Loppy Lincoln finally meet his Maker? He suffered a heart-attack whilst tossing himself off to Errol swashing his buckle in Captain Blood ! I guess you could say than instead of coming, he went!

Last year at this time I had seven "Evil Ones" hounding me. Three have now kicked the bucket...the last was a relative who concocted a writ against me and tried to get his dawks on my hard-earned spondoolies. He thought he was being very clever...until he keeled over and did not get back up again. Not many knew that he was a secret cross-dresser until I put him on the cover of one of my spoofs. And "The Father Morris Story" is already on the stocks. 

Four down, three to go. Karma gets them all in the end!

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