In the end, his passing was a dignified one, and, in many ways, a joyous occasion.

Fr. Liam Cosgrave now joins the roll of honour of Catholic priests who have aspired to the Snortian ideal: to die in coitus . . .

I didn’t know Fr. Liam Cosgrave. I never met Fr. Liam Cosgrave. But from what I have heard about him, and read of his final demise, I think that, in a strange way, we were kindred spirits.

And how fitting it was, that in his final death throes, he was among friends and colleagues.

Fr. Liam suffered a massive heart attack while watching a porno flick at the sauna and social club in Dublin known as Incognito. But as he panted his last, it must have been a source of great comfort to him that he was given the last rites by two of his fellow priests, who had been enjoying the entertainment along with him, the three of them perhaps jerking off furiously, before The Lord called Fr. Liam home.

I’m sure that, on reflection, they will also draw much comfort from the fact of being there, as he entered the gates of Paradise with a raging hard-on. I can just see St. Peter now, saying, “I saw you coming Liam. Did you enjoy the movie or are you just pleased to see me?”

What Sam Snort wants to know, first of all, is the name of this stag movie that the padre was watching before he laid his mortal pecker at the mercy of the Almighty.

It sounds like it was pretty hot shit, but then, one recalls the head of the League of Decency having a coronary incident while watching a nude scene in RTE’s The Spike, many months ago. My, my, how times change . .

STEAMY FLICKS

I would assume that Fr. Liam and his cineaste colleagues were watching something a bit more interesting, something with a few erect porkswords going into battle for God and country, for example. Were there any donkeys involved, I wonder?

Ah yes, a donkey or two would have added a touching biblical flavour – although in biblical illustrations, the donkey doesn’t get it up the ass, so to speak.

Still, what a way to go, eh?

When Sam Snort eventually turns his toes up, it would certainly be right and proper that his last glimpse of planet Earth would involve a blue movie, preferably with Sam in it, waving his mighty mutton dagger in the general direction of a sea of poontang. It is how I would want it, and no doubt it is how Fr. Liam would have wanted it, too. Bless him.

I’m sure that Archbishop Connell will take this into account as he mourns the loss of another shepherd of his flock. And who knows what such incidents will do for vocations?

If the priestly life is perceived as one in which you can drive around Kerry at 100 miles an hour, swigging brandy and having your dick sucked, or hanging out in clubs watching steamy flicks with the boys, there could be a new influx of young men for whom such a lifestyle has obvious attractions.

It is also very refreshing, of course, that Catholic priests are dealing with their sexuality in such a relatively sensible fashion.

There will he hardliners who will criticise Fr. Liam and the other Fathers for their secular hobbies, but you have to say that it’s a lot better than buggering orphans.

Here were mature men, out for a night together, watching dirty pictures. Hey, it beats the hell out of asking five-year-old girls to sit on your face. Sam Snort has no truck with that sort of thang, no way, no how.

LEATHER BARS

And as the happy threesome were beating the hell out of their meat, I’m sure that they were cognisant of the fact that they would be celebrating the Sacrament of the Holy Mass a few short hours later, and that in deference to modern hygiene practices, they would wash the semen off their hands before venturing into the tabernacle for the wafers.

If Sam Snort may make a suggestion here, it might be advisable in the future for priests to wear surgical gloves while they are handing out the host, as there are delicate souls who might object to having spunk along with their morning host. For Sam Snort, spunk-on-host sounds like an interesting new dish, a weird new form of oral sex, but some poor crathurs might object to it on spurious health grounds.

It would probably be advisable as well to install high-pressure showers with disinfectant properties in all presbyteries as standard practice, to cater for the needs of all those celebrants who have just come from a special showing of Buttfuckers Of The World Unite, or The Man With The Luminous Dong.

And hey, it must be kinda strange to give a sermon about the renewal of the Irish Catholic family when you’ve just been to see Whiplash Willie And His Rod Of Steel, or Neddie The Donkey Goes Girl Crazy.

Never let it be said that these are not men of the world, who know not of what they speak when they tell you what to do with your pecker.

These guys have done their research, prowling the fleshpots of Dublin – and are probably planning to do some more, immediately after telling you to go in peace to leurve and serve the Lord.

I never knew Fr. Liam Cosgrave. I never met Fr. Liam Cosgrave. But I feel that a light has gone out in the leather bars all over Europe.

Requiescat In Pace. Dominus vobiscum. Cunnilingus, cunnilingus, cunnilingus. Amen.

• Your ever-lovin’ Fr. Samuel J. Snort Jnr. S.J.