The pope, Terri Schiavo and Sean Connery: what do these three people have in common? They’re all dead.

Well, Connery isn’t, but his career is. Some would say the three are with the man upstairs. To those people the man upstairs is good.

But for me, the man upstairs is a snarling, misogynistic cowman.

My roommate and I have lovingly named our upstairs apartment neighbor “The Minotaur.” We call him this because he walks louder than any human on the planet should be physically capable of. I assume he has cloven hooves and weighs near 600 pounds.

For a small background on Minotaurs: they were devised in Greek mythology as a half man, half bull, and never considered smart. They have been popular characters of the fantasy genre ever since. The first minotaur lived in a Labyrinth and kidnapped women. What he did with those women was never really discussed, but he was eventually killed by the hero Theseus. The women were rescued, but what Theseus did with them was also never discussed. As an interesting side note, the word Labyrinth comes from an ancient word meaning double-bladed ax, which is the weapon minotaurs often use.

It would seem our cloven-hoofed friend not only loves to stomp on the floor all day long but is also abusive to his lady friends. I recall returning home while he was on the balcony. How it supported him is beyond me, but he was having a casual conversation with a friend and what appeared to be his girlfriend. Poor girl, I say. He talked to his friend in a kind manner but to his girlfriend in an aggressive, demeaning tone.

I never gave the Minotaur a chance and maybe I could have become friends with him. But I doubt it. He is the type of person who uses words such as “gay” and “fag” when talking about inanimate objects he does not like. I’m uncertain if you have come across this type of person, but I just want to hit them. I don’t because normally they are giant Minotaur-like people and I’m afraid they’ll beat me up to prove they are both manly and not homosexual.

Although I never accused them of it, they seem like the homophobic types who announce their heterosexuality without asking.

Again, perhaps I am being judgmental and the Minotaur is really a great human lacking a few brain cells after too many nights of drinking until he throws up over the balcony. Or maybe he takes blows to the head playing contact sports to prove, once again, that he is very, very manly.

Views and opinions in this humor column do not necessarily reflect those of the Northern Star and its staff. Send questions and comments to [email protected]