Saint Faustino, patron of cuckolds and single people
Valentine’s Day is coming…
Are you feeling the love?
If so, good for you. And if not, well, happy Saint Faustino!
What… you’ve never heard of him? Well, it’s time for you to get educated.
Saint Faustino, Patron of Singles
February 15 is Saint Faustino, patron of cuckolds and singles around the world.
For those of you who don’t enjoy Saint Valentine’s, I hope the story of Saint Faustino brings some joy into your otherwise dim, gray lives.
Born in Tuscany in the 11th century, Saint Faustino spent his first two decades as a pathetic pimple-faced virgin, “beating the bishop”, as the saying goes, to the sight of the village milkmaid pulling on the nipples of his favorite cow.
At age 22 he fell in love with Francesca, the fish-monger’s daughter, who he used to visit while she took the scales off sardines on the rocky shores of the Mediterranean.
After a long courtship in which the future Saint struggled to convince Francesca’s parents that he was a suitable husband – he was employed as a manure-carrier, one of the lowliest professions in feudal Italy –he was finally engaged to be married.
But marital bliss was not to be had for poor Faustino, for soon after the engagement he found his lovely bride-to-be up in the hay loft, fellating the village bad boy, Giuseppino, who was in possession of a really fucking awesome souped up donkey and a pair of leather breeches, bad boy symbols of the era.
Heartbroken by his true love’s hay-loft bad-boy BJ, Faustino joined the priesthood, and spent several years counselling young virgins and desperate housewives alike on their mundane quotidian problems.
After his death it is reported that many people who made the pilgrimage to Poggebonsi (where his tunic and a small shrivelled piece of ancient flesh rumored to be his penis are kept as relics) have been rewarded by the falling-off or putrefaction of the genitalia of unfaithful partners, and that singles who pray before the tunic and penis find a sense of peace which those in relationships can rarely aspire to…
Okay, so I didn’t feel like reading online hagiographies in Italian, and invented my own. Happy Saint Faustino, everybody.
P.S. When I die, please ask the biggest cathedral you can find to enshrine my penis somewhere important. My exes will certainly make the pilgrimage to see it…