Cutié Is Not the First to Waive His Denominational No-Trade Clause for Dat Ass
|If he meets another woman he loves, he might go Mormon.|
Of course, the fact that Episcopal priests are allowed to marry (and, we assume, canoodle) had absolutely nothing to do with his decision, you blasphemer.
But let's say it did. Cutié would not be the first public figure to demand a religious trade in order to get his righteous grind on. Behold, Riptide's Holy Trinity of denominational journeymen:
The rulebook governing 16th-century kings was very clear on one point: If you wanted to cut off some chick's head, you had to marry her first.
Decapitation connoisseur Hank Ocho knew this well. And when he met Anne Boleyn, who, according to historians, had a head with the pleasurable heft and perfect circumference of a soccer ball, he knew he had to have it. One problem: He was married to Catherine of Aragon, who was a total hag. And the pope, who controlled the Church of England, refused to let him annul the marriage.
So Hank did the only natural thing: He converted the whole nation to Anglicanism. He married Anne and chopped off her head three years later.
Hey, remember when the most scandalous news concerning Westminster Christian High juicer Alex Rodriguez had to do with sex with Madonna? Ah, for it to be January again.
It's always a risky prospect to jump on a love bandwagon that's been previously commandeered by Jose Canseco, Dennis Rodman, and Vanilla Ice. But even more ballsy than a fling with Madonna, in our opinion, is a flirtation with her celebri-ligion, in which devotees wear red string around their wrists to ward off the "evil eye."
A-Rod was said to have attended spiritual training in Kabbalah and was pictured lunching with a top priest of that Jewish sect.
He dumped both the diva and the religion after reportedly realizing he had his new girlfriend confused with Cher: He's, like, a huge fan of that song "Believe."
OK, so Dubya's born-again conversion had nothing to do with wooing a woman -- he already had that fox Laura. The heart he was trying to win was that of the religious conservative. You know, the angry Jesus voter.
Raised in Presbyterian and Episcopalian churches, this prodigal son spent most of his first 40 years worshipping at the altar of the Miller keg. But televangelist Billy Graham sat him down and conveyed to him the power of God and the short memory of the red-state voter. Nine years after being born again, Bush won the governorship of Texas and then went on to force his very special communion on the entire world.
Reverand Graham, if you're not too busy, Rush Limbaugh would like to see you. Bring your Bible.