RIP Pope Francis – bad timing, though. If he’d had his ticket punched three days earlier, he might still be with us.

He’ll be remembered most for his personal crusade to save the poor, but I’m having nun of it.

That was always a bit rich from the steward of the largest art and antiques collection in the world. Perhaps we ought to have a minute’s silence to reflect on how the Catholic Church acquired that wealth?

They never trousered all that gear from Bargain Hunt, that’s for sure.

All over the world, the zillions of cafeteria Catholics who routinely reject doctrine out of hand will be shedding tears and tearing to shreds anybody who deigns to question this pompous pantomime.

It’s their own unique brand of pope music.

And long before the white smoke rises, they’ll have gone back to their clockwork routines of boozing, shagging, and crime, just like the rest of the urbs et orbis.

I’m a bit peeved because I’d been looking forward to Conclave being free on Prime, but that one’s going to be milked to buggery for the next six months.

In the meantime, I’ll don my white robes and red leather slippers and head over to Diddy’s latest party.

The sex isn’t as sordid, but the atmosphere is more candid.