Special Guest Blogger: St. Denis of Paris

Life as a missionary can be tough, especially if it's in third century Paris under Roman rule where the Christians had almost vanished thanks to the head choppy ways of Emperor Decius.
If your only knowledge of Christian saints is that holidays and cities are named after them, hang on to your hat because some of us guys went down in history because we had superpowers like functioning without heads.
I was sent by Pope Fabian along with six other missionaries to Gaul to convert the Pagan's and increase the Christian population again so we found a nice place on the River Seine and set about the business of converting.
I don't want to blow my own trumpet but i was good, a bit too good actually because i was made the Bishop of Paris but the Pagan priests became alarmed over their loss of followers to my side of the religious fence so they called in the Roman's to put a stop to our little game.
The Emperor sent threats and started dropping tactful hints in the form of a goddamn executioner standing outside my window swinging a huge sword but undeterred i continued to convert Parisians to Christianity which resulted in me being beheaded which to some could be considered a handicap but not me, i carried on undeterred. You could say i was a head of my time...ba dum tss.
I picked up my own severed head, dusted it down and washed it in a spring because all that blood was not a good look for a Priest and i walked for about six or so miles preaching all the way through the mouth of my severed head which i was carrying.
At this point i should point out that headless missionaries are not a familiar sight in Paris so credit must go to those who stayed to listen to my message of salvation and saw past the headless guy walking toward them with blood spurting from a ragged neck stump, carrying his own own head.
I carried on walking until i reached a spot that looked nice and promptly dropped dead thereby forever giving artists the problem of where to put my halo in paintings. Many discussions must have gone on whether it goes where the head used to be or where the head is now in my hands.
Fun fact: I am the patron saint of people suffering from headaches which is nice but as usually happens, i thought of something cool to say way too late and have always regretted not saying on my walk from my execution 'See guys, Christians are head and shoulders above all the rest of those other religions' but the moments passed now.