Dry As A Nun's

"I'm as dry as a nun's," he said. That goofy smile plastered across his handsome face.

Well, I thought, I had an Aunty Pat, the nun, distant relative, really through marriage, or Patty as they used to call her, who had a 35 year relationship with Father Brown. It lasted longer than most marriages, but because they were catholic, they couldn't talk about it, well, not directly. Apparently, everyone in Father Brown's parishes were aware, and Patty's order, well they must have known. I remember, at one stage, she had spent so long away from her order that they threatened to kick her out. She worked with the poor, which was the reason she was away from her order for so long, helping the poor. Admittedly, I don’t know anything about her order, but I assume this was the reason she was threatened with expulsion. Remember, Catholics aren’t supposed to save the poor, they are supposed to save Catholics. 

I liked her, she was no nonsense, and good fun. And she drove fast in her Renault 16. She used to turn up on holidays with us all. She’d be out in the deep water in her blue one piece and daisy bathing cap with all us kids, which is way more than any of our mother’s would do. Although, she never bought Father Brown with her. Maybe, she did once, early on?

Anyway, I said, "Now there's one nun whose cunt presumably wasn't dry."

“Oh Christian.”

“Oh Christian.”

“Oh Christian.”

Oh Christian? Really? I thought. So, what do they think that expression means?

Is it because we sanitise it by dropping the ‘cunt’ out of it?

I chuckled to myself picturing a cunt snapping around on the ground after being ‘dropped out’ like an angry sea urchin, or something. Except it wouldn’t have hair on it now a days, and then I couldn’t think of another analogy.