To the class brownnoser when he yelled “Yay!” in response to the mention of the chapel dedicated to St. Thomas Aquinas in Sta. Maria sopra Minerva:
-- Who said “Yay”? You? The chapel then – done by whom?
On the bronze loincloth tactfully covering the naughty bits of Michelangelo’s Risen Christ
-- Stupid loincloth put on by stupid old farts, stupid old pope. EEHHHH THAT’S what the pope should do tomorrow! Bomph! Get that thing outta there!
To the stuttering woman put on the spot by his question, which was general, when she attempted to find the answer in the text:
-- DON’T look at this text, look at ME and my BALD HEAD!
To the class, generally:
-- I respect you and all of your educations. Sed est manca – it’s mutilated. Half-baked. You get it?
-- I’m not making fun of you, it’s just WRONG!
-- You say “we want Latin conversation!” and then you SIT there … like a bunch of DUMMIES and don’t talk!
To some Catholics who insist on traditions older than the Church itself wishes to continue (these might sound worse out of context than they really are; and should be taken with plenty of sal):
-- We ought to take a machine gun and shoot them down off the wall!
-- The OLD mass?! The OLD MASS was OUT before your parents were even born! Saying I love the old mass is like saying I love the old Klu Klux Klan!
*****
That, plus a long conversation about beer (cervisia), how to give a toast (propino, propinare) and other such nonsense (nugas!) basically covers what class was like today.
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