You know what it's like. You're feeling at a bit of a loose end because it's Friday night in Lincoln, so whaddya do? Drive over to the Bishop of Lincoln's place to hang out with your prelatical pal and get into a glass or twenty of the right stuff. Then what? That's easy.
Drive the bishop's Kia, ahem, Sportage down the road to your sad little vicarage and crash it, mas gusto, into a Brit film star's boyfriend's Skoda, writing the nasty Sportage and the wretched Skoda off at one fell swoop. And, by the way, you've somehow managed to lose your shoes in the process. Huh.
Some kind of joke? No, just another true story from the venerable if shrinking Church of England. It seems Rev Hughes Carew, onetime Church House apparatchik decided to get it on for his birthday. Fair play, let the bells ring out, as they apparently did from a nearby church. And then?
Haul over to your pal's palace, Bishop Stephen Conway. It's Friday night, it's your birthday, live it up, get it on, lose your shoes, climb into the bishop's car, drive it half a mile down the road, hey, it's close, and smash into a celebrity associated Skoda. Boom.
Rev. Carew was evidently educated at the appallingly establishment Westcott House in Cambridge, the Venerabile in Rome, curiously, and seems to have majored in yoga and church bureaucracy. He's now facing a driving ban and disbarment from the priesthood.
The Bishop of Lincoln, Hughes' drinking buddy, remains very largely in place, and claims Rev Hughes took his nifty if unpleasant Kia Sportage without permission. What can we say?
1. Judge not lest ye be judged. Yes, there is that. 2. Don't drink and drive. It's potentially deadly. 3. Don't hang with the Bishop of Lincoln. If you do, keep your shoes on. 4. Don't be a dam mountebank and give ammo to the enemy. We're assuming, dangerously, that Hughes+ and +Lincoln aren't actually on the enemy's side. And on. So.
I, for one, hope that Hughes recovers from what has to be a terrible hangover and that the Bishop of Lincoln learns his lesson too. As in, get a driver. It's simple. Man in hat in Daimler drives ridiculously shoeless cleric back to his unpleasant little house. No. Harm. Done. Or of course you can always get an Uber.
St. Hugh of Lincoln, pray for us, it's clearly needed.
Your Old Pal,
LSP
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