Forgive me, Father Jude Law — for I have sinned. My last confession was, conservatively, 21 years and several months ago. That’s when I admitted to having pushed my friend Althea off the slide. Now, I’m afraid, I must confess to something much worse: Since seeing the pictures of you in an itsy-bitsy teeny-weenie blindingly white papal Speedo while filming The New Pope, a continuation of your 2016 HBO series The Young Pope (about a pope who fucks and whose name is Lenny) I have found myself entertaining impure thoughts. Thoughts like, “My, what a compact little crumpet,” and “Holy See is right,” and “The Lad is risen,” and “Suffocate me between those thick thighs, Daddy Pope.”
I am sorry for my sins with all my heart, and I am sorry that I will, inevitably, watch the onscreen garbage fire that will be The New Pope.