I've always been intrigued by the extensive inventory of saints that the Catholic church has amassed. I've found it curious that they think a deceased saint has anything of value to offer, other than the example of their life. Praying to saints seems wasted energy when one can pray to the Big Man himself. It's like taking your problems at work to a co-worker, who can do nothing, instead of to the boss, who can. (By this point, I suppose some of you are re-reading the title, seeing that it ain't what you thought). 
Enjoy this picture of my new St. Kevin visor clip. Having St. Kevin at the ready will, no doubt, protect me from traffic accidents and road rage, and hopefully, a ticket or two. I just hope his potency as a saint can endure my poor driving and laziness in keeping my registration and vehicle inspection up to date.
St. Kevin was an interesting saint. Here's an excerpt from the ever-valuable Wiki:
He was known for his disdain of human company, especially that of women; his name was used in Ireland as a term for men with cold relations with women up until the 19th century. An extreme example of his chastity was the instance when he pushed an amorous woman into a patch of nettles.
St. Kev, as he will be referred to from here on out, was a hermit living in Glendalough, Ireland. He was reported to be 120 years old when he died. It is also reported that once, during a drought, Kev and his disciples were fed by an otter, who brought them salmon to eat. Right here, I see a lot in Kev that I like.
- Hermit - I'm often tempted to live as one.
- 120 Years Old - I'd like to live to be at least that old.
- Salmon - I like to eat salmon, especially Alaskan, broiled with some olive oil and dill.
- Otter - The otter makes my short list of "Favorite Mammals".
However, I'd never push an amorous woman into a patch of nettles.
