Pope's in town

It's one of the world's biggest Catholic knees up this week in Sydney. The pope's in town, as are about 500,000 nutters pilgrims, swarming round the city and having whole sections of the gaff shut down so that they can celebrate fairy stories told by paedoes. It's virtually a pincer movement on my gaff, with Centennial Park on one side holding a huge weekend rally and mass, and a load of other religious tosh going on at the racecourse on the other side of me.

Your average punter isn't loving the commuter chaos, the quater of a billion dollars that it's costing the tax payer to host the god-botherers, nor the new laws that have been drafted in to surpress any vocal opposition or protest of any kind. And with the rather large and (quite literally) fruity population of alternative lifestyle types that call the city home, there's been a few rows about them classing homosexuality as an abomanation etc

I work on George Street, the main street in the city centre, and that's the one that's been closed to traffic, there were tens of thousands of them walking past the office today banging drums, strumming guitars, singing, and generally acting like they were on the way to the Municipal Buildings having just beaten Wigan in one of the greatest play-off finals ever. Madness.

In a way, it must be quite cool believing all that pony, 'cause it's off to Sydney for a holiday, getting blessed by the top man, and generally thinking that everything in the world is wonderful and right. Apart from poofs, obviously. They're with you on that one Handa.