The book, The Gospel of the Flying Spaghetti Monster, looks to be a great read!  It’s an elaborate parody of Intelligent Design:

CAN I GET A “RAMEN” FROM THE CONGREGATION?!

Behold the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster (FSM), today’s fastest growing carbohydrate-based religion. According to church founder Bobby Henderson, the universe and all life within it were created by a mystical and divine being: the Flying Spaghetti Monster.
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Within these pages, Bobby Henderson outlines the true facts– dispelling such malicious myths as evolution (“only a theory”), science (“only a lot of theories”), and whether we’re really descended from apes (fact: Humans share 95 percent of their DNA with chimpanzees, but they share 99.9 percent with pirates!)

     The Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster’s website has, of course, been targeted by many people who are unable to take a joke.
     Fortunately, they’ve opened up their hate-mail archive to the public.  It’s also fortunate that we have idiots like Casey Powell to give us something to laugh about.

     [ of course, I have to thank Swanky for pointing me towards all of this --- good stuff! ]

      Some people have little else to do but send ludicrous hate mail, due in no small part but that so many people have little room for humor in their day-to-day lives.  It’s sad.
     Me, I get some local psychotic nutjob sending me scathing e-mails and blog comments claiming that I’m the father of her five-year-old child (an impossibility, given the fact that I lived in another country at the time).
     Others get morons like Casey Powell, who profess Christianity while sending vulgar and abusive e-mails, threaten lawsuits because the owner posted them publicly, and finally come out and deny that it was him at all — no, in fact, it was his evil twin.
     I should introduce Casey to Laney.  
     Laney would dig Casey’s methods with a dumbfounded, “Suing that guy for posting your own comments and claiming it was someone else who made them?  Why didn’t I think of that?”
     And sure Casey would dig her whole birth-without-sex story, which would surely remind him of the Gospel of Matthew.

     Their union and subsequent child just might be enough to signal the Coming of the Great While Colander.

     Every now and again, you’ll hear a woman say, “The word ‘bitch’ should be removed from the English language!”  Sometimes I agree, but now and again, you find these incredible witches with capital “B”’s who underscore the necessity of the word. 
     “Dorothy” (we’ll call her for the purpose of keeping her privacy) is one of those.  More than just witchlike, she was a psycho who couldn’t understand normal thinking.  On second thought, even the c-word might be too tame…

     We met in a bar several years ago.  It was just after midnight, and we’d been having a great conversation.  She was from a state that I used to live in, and we spent quite a while reminiscing the old days.  Old hangouts, old friends (a few of whom we knew in common), old cars and old girlfriends, husbands and wives.
     Eventually, she invited me back to her place to “hang out” for a while.  I went, mind you, but made my motives pretty clear — “Listen, you’re drunk.  I’m not gonna take advantage of that.  You might say it’s not taking advantage, but let’s not do something either of us might regret.  Okay?”
     I’m good like that.  I don’t send mixed signals.

     Unfortunately, once we got back to her place, she was no longer the semi-sober woman she was in the bar and car ride home.  

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     LR2 posted a great link today to The Best Page in the Universe.

     It’s no secret what I think of 9/11 Revisionist morons.  Faced with hard evidence and eyewitness accounts, they are stupid enough to simply ignore the fact that more than a few people saw, let’s say, a plane hit the Pentagon, for instance.
     But Maddox hit the nail on the head — with a sledgehammer, mind you.  That Glenn Beck / $100 Bill folding bit is freaking brilliant!

     As far as I’m concerned, these “Loose Change” asshats are case in point that Condoms are only 97% effective when used properly.

     If you’re familiar with Star Wars (who isn’t?), you’ll love this short film which shows how George Lucas came up with the idea for Star Wars.

     Continuing on the same thread of former psychos, who may or may not continue to be psycho — fortunately, it’s been so long since I’ve seen any of them, I have no idea if they’re still psycho or if they’ve been heavily medicated and rehabilitated — there was another really good one who showed real promise in the Art of Screwing Up Guys Lives.
     It’s going to be a little difficult to write about her given that I’ve promised not to reveal enough information that would make someone easily identifiable.  Unfortunately, in this case it’s difficult, and I’ve debated heavily about writing about her at all.  But the story, oh the story, is just too good.
     We’ll call her “Alexis.”

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     Like the Yoda Backpack mentioned last week, the t-shirt I found today is also geared towards women.

Our newest design, the These Aren’t the Breasts You’re Looking for t-shirts, harken back to the scene in Star Wars (Episode IV) when we see Obi-Wan Kenobi use the Jedi Mind Trick for the first time. (truly, it was the first indication of the force)How suave was old Ben Kenobi with his British accent, powerful eyes, and a little hand wave?  Who didn’t want to be him?

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STAR WARS FANBOYS!  Don’t let nature stop you from having a good laugh.  Think about how much funnier this shirt is on you, with your man-breasts or your total lack of boobage.  You too can use the force (who knows…these t-shirts might even help you take home a Star Wars Fan Girl to meet your mom…JK!)

     Brilliant shirt.  As a matter of fact, I can think of one friend right away who’d love to wear one when she goes out, although, she’d never get that it was a Star Wars line.

     Taking another stroll down the memory lane of past relationships mentioned in the last post, I remembered another really funny one.  We’ll call her “Sybil.”

     Sybil didn’t do much outside of college.  She hung around in the neighborhood talking to people most of the time.  That’s pretty much how we met, and became pretty good friends.
     The “we’re dating” thing came about after one of those uncomfortable conversations that most men try and avoid — all the “We need to talk.  What are we doing?  Where is this going?” bits which establish a plan and timeframe that didn’t need to be established since the obvious answer was, “We’re hanging out and having a good time, why do you have to ruin it with stupid questions?”
     But I digress…

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     Dan at SouthSEO (which may be under construction at the moment) sent me a link to hilarious fan film, featuring Darth Vader as supermarket manager (tip to The Age).

     On that note, don’t forget to check out the Vader Sessions — link courtesy of another The Age reader.  Someone did a great job re-dubbing the original Star Wars with audio from other James Earl Jones movies.

     The best bit comes in when Vader goes to get the TIE Fighter pilots to help him take out the Rebel fighters in the trench:  “I’d like to maintain the current level of Black representation on the committee… so let’s go for a stroll.”
     Good stuff.

     The craziness of yesterday had me tripping down memory lane about past relationships.  Fortunately, the trip wasn’t spent trying to remember who she was — that was impossible — but rather remembering a similar situation that happened a long, long time ago.
     Of course, I’m not going to divulge anything personally identifiable.

     Many, many years ago when I was still a young pup, a friend of a friend introduced me to a young woman we’ll call “Chastity,” as a cruel joke, for the sake of the story.  She was a college student, and hung out the same clubs I did, so we hit it off well.

     A week into dating her, a friend of mine was hurt badly in a car accident, and not expected to live.  After visiting him in the hospital, I decided I didn’t want to just go home, so I thought I’d drop by her place for a visit. 
     When I got to her place, the front door was open.

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     Some people can find humour in a blog.  Some people cannot.

     Back in 1997 when I wrote about psycho ex-girlfriends, I think I summed it up nicely.  Is she psycho, or “just someone who you feel is, indeed, full of more @#$! than last night’s dinner casserole?”  There were no invisibile mind-control rays in the post.  There were no “read between the lines” misogynistic overtones, either.
     But it is certainly the only post here that I can think would trigger this kind of response (with the expetives deleted).  The weirder part is, it came from someone here in Knoxville!

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