This evening, Rev. Smith gave his annual State of the Brendan address in which told his audience that he believes the state of the Brendan is strong, and that the number one threat to his security is Iraq. Smith passed up the chance to speak about his fiscal plans for the future and his current state of employment, but instead outlined a plan to deploy his left leg to the Persian Gulf to counter the mounting international threat of Saddam Hussein and his pure evilness.
Archive for January, 2003
Dublin, Ireland’s Spin 103.8 radio station today featured The Rev. Brendan Powell Smith as a guest on their SpinTalk programme. Smith talked with hosts Jack and Ali about what it takes to illustrate the Bible in LEGO, how Smith came to be called ‘The Reverend’, and the music of Smith’s band The Human Heads. Smith revealed that he was in fact “half-Irish” and that both his first and last names reflect that heritage.
Looking for a way to atone for his recent sins, Rev. Smith turned to his trusted friend, The Bible, and soon knew what must be done. He went into the nearby fields and took a young ram, unblemished, and two young sheep. He brought them up on the hill and there slaughtered them before God at an altar he had built. He poured all their blood over the altar, and set their pile of entrails on fire. The resultant smell was pleasing to God, and soon all of Smith’s sins were forgiven.
Rev. Smith’s longtime girlfriend Lila was distraught today upon discovering that for the past six weeks her boyfriend has been carrying on catered affairs. Shortly after departing for work this morning, Lila grew suspicious when she noticed a Mike’s Catering van headed in the opposite direction. She followed the van back and watched as two men brought in row after row of pre-prepared dishes into her own house. Finally she stormed inside the house to confront Smith who was caught in a compromising position by the buffet table
During The Rev. Brendan Powell Smith’s recent trip to the doctor, it was revealed that he has only six months left to live. “It’s a fatal condition,” explained Smith’s doctor, “and I’m afraid it’s just a matter of time at this point.” Asked if there was any chance for a last minute cure, the doctor shook his head, whispered “no”, and turned to go. Rev. Smith was shaken by the news, but soon came to terms with it, stating “we all have our time, I suppose. And at 97 years old, Dr. Timmerman has lead a full life.”
It’s three days into the new year, and Rev. Smith remains resolute in his stance that this year should be pronounced not as “Two Thousand Three” as is the common custom, but rather as “Twenty-oh-Three”, which, he argues, is in keeping with previous centuries in which dates like 1903 or 1203 would pronounced “Nineteen-oh-Three” or “Twelve-oh-Three”. “Who ever came up with this ‘The Year Two Thousand’ crap anyhow?” asked a visibly perturbed Smith. “Three years ago was the start of ‘Twenty-Hundred’, dammit.”