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Bonjour! My name is Fr Hill and I live in a little village in France. I used to live in England but my bishop said that I was a fire hazard in the aisles because of my size. I then decided to move to France because it can accomodate my weight better. I weigh 21 stone and my aim is to become a fatster, like my mother, who was a sumo wrestler in Germany. She won a few prizes but never made it big time. I want to live on in her image. This part goes out to my mother, because today is the anniversary of when she died of poison gas. I told her to buy deodorant but she thought she could take it. She made the silly mistake of thinking she was invincible. I was upset as a child because my mother was not around to fight my battles. She was travelling in Germany when I was being bullied my my classmates for having size XL underpants. I used to be stripped down to my underwear and smacked on the bottom several times, for it was amusing to see my fat ripple (however this was not amusing for myself and my dog Lassie.)
I will never forget the day when Baldo called me Nellie the elephant but now he is my chef. Now you can see how times have changed. I have always paid him, for his good work in the kitchen and for giving him my milk money, but really we are very good friends now. It's funny the way things turn out. I turn to Baldo, Guy and God in my time of need.
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My life as a monk started when I was a young boy. I was always interested in monks because the job had always appealed to me because I was going bald and starting greying at a young age. I went to the doctors who started telling me to drink diet coke and sugested I travelled on holiday to the states so that I would not feel so left out.
This was a depressing time for me because I had been disabled in tying up my shoelaces without falling over. But I met someone over there who changed my life forever. His name was Fr Knicker (Bocker Glory.) He gave me my strength and stamina. I called him dad, for my dad had ran away for he had a fear of my mother in a bikini, we later found out that he had gone crazy and died of a heart attack. My new dad showed me the way to a happy life, under the influence of cherry pie. Whenever I felt down or depressed he pointed me to the food aisle where I nibbled through the plastic to receive my prize. For a time I was named "Hill, king of the niblets" As soon as I found out that heaven was NOT a halfpipe, but a giant mountain of food and cream I turned to God.
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My Disability
Doctors have tried to come up with a cure for my so called disability, they call it fatsterinitos but so far none of the treatments have worked, I see a counsellor every week to come to terms with my problem and she tells me not to expect a social or love life. I think this is wrong because Santa is married. My dog is even scared of my appearance. Lassie is my best friend but even she recoils in terror when I step into the room. But so far she has come to terms that her master requires and king size bed and there is no room for her to sleep by my feet at night. It's also because they smell but the room is an issue also. Being a monk means that my funds are somewhat limited, in the fact that I eat more then any of the monkbrothers put together. |
Personality of a wet fish
I think that these companies who make this rubbish are absolutely despicable, monks are messengers of God and they do not deserve to be poked fun at and made to feel small, in other words FAT. People who promote monks in this humorous light do not know anything about the monkly duties and are small minded, ignorant pigs! I am appalled and I was up all night crying over my pasta salad and diet coke about the image of monks being fat. This is a disability that we are talking about and something that remains very close to my heart. The mentality of these Washington fat cats sickens me to think that they can laugh at someone so great and wonderful, such as me. My life is from the bed to the chair to the car, and if you think that is funny then you need to become a monk yourself to find all the temptations in the kitchen!
Send an e mail to the Hill monk
"The Cherry Pie is in the oven, it's what I look forward to after a long hard day at the PC"
This is my motto and I stick by that because I think you would agree; a monk has a busy enough life with having the effort of getting up in the mornings and actually walking to get his food. We don't need the added stress of using the complicated mechanism of a computer. My perfect style of life would be to sit back and eat myself silly, but then again I need a little exercise, for if I had no exercise my legs would not work and if my legs don't work then I cannot walk to the fridge, which would be AWFUL!!! Without my monkly food I would have worn away to skin and bone. SKIN AND BONE I tell you! I only look the way I do because the temptation of the fridge is glaring at me with two beady eyes, and it's saying, "Come, look inside my door and there you will see food to eat an explore!" It is shining in the light and it's making me dizzy and the smell of ham penetrates my nose. But it's meatyness overwhelms me. If I don't open the fridge door I will faint for the thought of food sweeps the mind into something much deeper then temptation. |
WATASHI WA
This is a very VERY good band, and i reccomend highly - if you want to go to heaven that is - that you go to their site and listen/become obsessed/worship - HAHA Jesus, only joking - them.
As a messenger of God they are your only way to spiritual enlightment - minus those littel mini vol au vents - I've always had a soft spot for them...
Go on their site |
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