Posted                       

OK, y'all know this has to be on this thread!

quote:

---

Strange.

You called God "strange."

That is so...so...so...offensive I am speechless. Thus I voice my outrage in interpretive dance:

xxx
............. x pause
.... x ......... ... .. . spin spin spin ...
...............................................
................. leap .........................
... pause ..... x x x ....x x.... spin ....
.......... leap .......... ..... ..... ..... ..
.... ... pause ... ... .. . xx
............. spin spin spin .. x
..... spin spin .. x
... spin . x
..
x
.

So there.

---

Posted                       

quote:

---

O no, o no, o no! THANKSGIVING! Aieeeeeeeeeeeee!

I open my refrigerator door and see three boxes, each containing leftover pie*. Do you know what this means?

(You feel my hands grip your lapels as I shake you back and forth)

DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS?

The dreaded Pie Equalization Precipitate! My God! Any unequal amounts of leftover pie in any container, even plastic wrap, poses the gravest threat to the planet!

For example, if I have 3 slices of key lime, 5 of chocolate, and 4 of apple, then I must eat 2 slices of chocolate pie and 1 of apple in order to equalize the number of leftover pie slices lest the Earth's orbit decay and we spiral into the sun! All life on Earth depends on me eating the correct amount of pie! How can I bear this responsibility?

Okay, I'm calming down, calming down, calming...going to my happy place...happyhappyhappy...and now we're home. Okay.

My fellow 'Shipmates, I need your help. Please aid me in saving all life on this planet by equalizing the amount of leftover pie in your homes. Life is lost without you! When you reach the end of this post, run--don't walk--to your kitchen and IMMEDIATELY eat any unequal amounts of leftover pie.

If you have no pie, any cake or tart will do. Even cornbread in a frying pan! If none of those are available, a bag of cookies will suffice. Barely.

If you only have one pie, you can still help. Look at the number of slices remaining. Make sure to eat any slices that would violate the 90 degree rule: There can be no leftover pie outside any of four equal quadrants of the pie plate, with the axis of the quadrants on the center point of the pie if the pie were still whole.

So, can I trust you, my friends? Please, help me help us all! For liberty and justice forever.

===============
*We were tasked to bring pies to our family's Thanksgiving** dinner, so while other people have leftover turkey, dressing, appetizers, et al, we have leftover pie.

**Note to non-US Shipmates: Even if you don't celebrate Thanksgiving, you can still help! Just make sure you have equal amounts of leftover desserts in your home.

---

Posted                          

quote:

---

“Doesn't that [being a minister’s wife] entail you going 'round to ill parishoners and spoon-feeding them nourishing soups? Mentoring the Infants' Bible Class? DittoChurch Mothers? Also, how're your potluck organizing skills? You ought to brush up on your vestry and altar decorating knowledge, as no doubt you'll be asked to head those committees. If I were you, I'd start drinking heavily now”

---

Posted                   

quote:

---

I dunno, tomb, the Sinester may actually be on to something here; doggone I'd never thought of it before. A flour and egg wash followed by a trip into a deep fryer would render a raw penis that was...hmmm...well, I think it would cook up pretty well.

In deep frying, the batter protects the food from direct exposure to the hot fat, thus drying out, so a batter fried penis would certainly be moist enough. (Anyone care for a corndog? )

Since spongy tissue is composed more of empty space than discrete tissue (think of a kitchen sponge), and heat breaks down protein over time, you'd need a cooking technique that would prevent the penis meat from dehydrating too much while at the same time weakening the molecular bonds between the tissue vacuoles enough to render the meat into something with a good mouthfeel; i.e., not too chewy. (This is why some cuts of meat are best cooked a longer time over a lower heat versus a shorter time over a high heat.)

I think Sine is right; deep frying would provide the ideal cooking environment, but you're very limited in what you can do with the batter to add flavor. Also, you want to cook the whole penis all the way through. You don't want a burnt exterior and raw interior! Given we don't know the size of the penis, I suggest prior to cooking halving it length-wise with a sharp knife. This would double the cookable surface area and halve the cross section of tissue the heat would have to reach through and cook.

IMHO the penis would best be served (pun intended) by pan searing it first in wine, garlic and some fresh herbs, giving it that first burst of heat to carmelize the exterior, then perhaps a quick saute, then transferring it to the tempura batter and into the fryer. While the penis is cooking, add some more wine and cream, plus a bit of butter, to the fry pan to deglaze it, reducing the liquid by about a third to a half. This will build a simple pan gravy and will work for any cut of meat.

Pull the penis out when it's GB&D (golden brown & delicious), plate it, drizzle the pan gravy around it, then go with the potatoes you suggested tomb. I think two kiwi fruit at one end would serve as a nice garnish, don't you?

---

quote:

---

Marinade #1 for Jerry Boam
===========================
2 1/2 tablespoons soy sauce
1/2 teaspoon minced peeled fresh gingerroot
3 tablespoons brown sugar
1 tablespoon medium-dry Sherry
1 tablespoon white-wine vinegar
1 garlic clove, minced and mashed to a paste with 1/2 teaspoon salt

This marinade is per pound of meat to be served.

If you wanted something a bit more robust, try this one, per two pounds of meat to be served:

Marinade #2 for Jerry Boam
===========================
1/3 cup dark beer
1/3 cup soy sauce
1/3 cup Dijon mustard
1/4 cup firmly packed dark brown sugar
1 onion, minced
1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
8 whole black peppercorns

---

Posted                          

quote:

---

originally posted by KenWritez:
I inspire raging hormones like Genghis Khan riding little red blood cells across the steppes of your hippocampus.

---

quote:

---

BTW, I do a pulled pork BBQ so good it'll make a bishop kick a hole in a stained glass window.

---

quote:

---

Most times I'm full up to here (gestures) with all the round-robin bullshit bickering I see on the Ship. The same arguments. The same invincible ignorance. More of the same assholes, just with different names. Like trying to corral a roomful of methamphetamine addicts with rage control issues. How Erin and the admins have survived this long without climbing a tower and shooting people is a miracle, a testimony to God's grace, strict gun laws, and the power of self-medication.

---

quote:

---

Don't piss me off! I'm on Atkins and I'd kill you just for the protein

---

Posted                          

quote:

---

Originally posted by comet:
KenW's been taking the megalomania pills again.

---

Posted                       

quote:

---

Originally posted by Kelly Alves:
As this came flying out of my mouth the other day under duress, I figured I should thank Kenwritez:

quote:

---

F**k me running.

---

[Edited for Hellishness]

---

quote:

---

Originally posted by KenWritez:
The day of my funeral, Kelly's going to come forward and place a single rose on my casket. Someone will ask what I meant to her, and she'll answer, "He taught me 'f*ck me running.'"

It's legacies like this that are truly priceless.

---

( I only wish I could have really been there with that rose.)

quote:

---

Originally posted by Gill H:
From Kenwritez on the 'Justifying a Christian Hell thread':

The Ship is a community full of lumpty, bumpty people and Alan Cresswell, it's not a frickin' TV show where all our problems are resolved in 22 minutes and four advertising breaks.

---

quote:

---

Originally posted by KenWritez:
For those clergy trying to increase membership, I can walk into the church and instantly double the size of the congregation.

---

quote:

---

People in pain need to be loved sacrificially, unconditionally accepted, they need to know YOU are there with them, YOU, you as in your heart and soul and spirit, NOT your lectures or good advice. They know you can't take away their pain, that's not the point! The point is that you give of the one thing no one else can duplicate: Yourself, your essence, your identity as a fellow human and fellow sufferer.

---

quote:

---

Oh Hell, maybe I'm the one who needs an anger management class.

Here goes.

God, WTF are You thinking, letting me have free will? What, are you stoned? Are you so alien or uninvolved with our lives down here that You don't see how badly I keep fucking up?! [smacks God] Wake up! [/smacks God]. Or...am I just lucky? Did I somehow draw the "Become unnoticed by God" special Community Chest card in this cosmic game of mortal Monopoly?

What are You thinking, huh? What is your game plan? Do you HAVE a game plan? Certainly not one You let me in on! How stupid do You hafta be for trusting me with anything resembling real life? I can fuck up a cup of coffee! You KNOW this! It can't be a surprise for You of all people!

Uh oh...no you don't! Don't You EVEN tell me You love me! I won't have it, do you understand? Telling me You love me does me exactly fuck all for good! How can You love me? Look at all this shit I've caused, look at these pissed-away opportunities, but my abilities aren't stopping there, no sir! I have yet to really miss one opportunity for hurting myself, much less someone else.

Look inside my heart, God. It's full of rage right now, and shitloads and shitloads of fear with a fat, charming dollop of lust on top, dusted with a fine sprinkling of greed, served on a bed of crispy sloth, with a nice side salad of gossip, a trough of gluttony, and an ice-cold chalice of pride to wash it all down! I'm mad, I'm afraid, I'm paranoid as hell and I'm really gonna hafta pee in a few minutes.

Why do You keep telling me You love me when Your love doesn't fit what I see as love? Where the Hell did I get these standards, anyway? Why do I struggle with the shit in my life that I do? Why isn't my life easier, more like a beer commercial?

What--is that it? Am I having so much trouble because I think my life should work like that of someone on tv? Like some worthless shit-for-brains sitcom?! Or, worse yet, some pettifogging, goat-raping ADVERTISEMENT? I should always be trim and muscular, a male model with six-pack abs and a twelve inch blue steel throbber? My life is sad and incomplete without a silk suit, a fat wad of cash and plastic, a .44 magnum and a hot car, trophy sluts pushing their siliconed racks against my sinewed arms and vanquished bad guys cowering around my impeccable Cole Haan loafers?

This is all boiling down to: I think I should be the center of the universe?

Holy fucking ego, Batman! I done gone and bought into some serious shit! No fucking wonder, Sherlock! Jeez, why am I smacking God when I should be smacking me?! I'm the true idiot here, not God, although WTF He's trusting me with His love to give to others is a brick topped mystery.

So...You do love me after all. You love me despite all the shit I put You through and all the fire alarms I ring in Your house at night. You do keep on loving me when by any reasonable standards You ought to've bitch-slapped my fat, fucked-up ass into orbit around Pluto by now.

You love me? You're one sick puppy, God. Thank you.

---

Posted                       

quote:

---

[With apologies to Gin and to all Roman Catholics.]

One late night I heard the heart-wrenching cry of a Jesuit stuck on a third-floor ledge on the building across the street from mine. How did he get there? Nobody's home in that apartment.

What to do? I called the local seminary, but their offices are closed and the voice mailbox for the emergency line is too full for me to leave a message.

The guy at the city's non-emergency help line says the department in charge of Jesuit rescues (there is such a thing?) won't open until 8 AM. Lutherans!

I call 911 to get a fire truck to rescue this poor Jesuit. It's still pouring rain, and he's obviously scared out of his mind. The ledge he's on is barely four inches wide, and it's about 32 feet above the ground. The 911 operator tells me this is not an emergency, and directs me to call 311 before she hangs up. Arrgh.

Finally, I walk up to a nearby Roman Catholic cathedral and explain the situation to the priest on duty. He goes on the PA, notifies the dispatcher, and next thing I know, it's a scene from the movie "The Bells of St. Mary's." Within seconds, about a half-dozen of NYC's finest priests and bishops come running down the stairs, get suited up, and get on their truck. The garage door clatters open, and the truck roars off with sirens wailing, lights flashing, and incense smoking.

I run after them, and get to the scene just a few seconds after they do. They've got their flashlights out, and have located the Jesuit. A bishop turns to me and says, "A Jesuit? I thought you said a cat was stuck on a ledge!"

We finally see the window behind the Jesuit is actually open a few inches. And what does he do after sitting on the ledge and crying for an hour? He naturally gives himself a tongue bath and then goes back inside the apartment and turns on the tv.

The bishop turns to me and says, "There's a reason you never see a Jesuit's skeleton in a tree."

---

Posted                       

quote:

---

Originally posted by Kelly Alves:
Patdys reminded me of this one:

quote:

---

Originally posted by Kelly Alves:
As this came flying out of my mouth the other day under duress, I figured I should thank Kenwritez:

quote:

---

F**k me running.

---

[Edited for Hellishness]

---

quote:

---

Originally posted by KenWritez:
The day of my funeral, Kelly's going to come forward and place a single rose on my casket. Someone will ask what I meant to her, and she'll answer, "He taught me 'f*ck me running.'"

It's legacies like this that are truly priceless.

---

( I only wish I could have really been there with that rose.)

---

No casket, Kel! He must have anticipated you but I wish you'd told me, I could have arranged something.

Charlotte

--------------------
WTFWED? "Remember to always be yourself, unless you suck" - the Gator
Memory Eternal! Sheep 3, Phil the Wise Guy, and Jesus' Evil Twin in the SoF Nativity Play

Posted                          

quote:

---

Originally posted by Kelly Alves:
And, from the same thread, I'll end with this (tonight):

quote:

---

Oh Hell, maybe I'm the one who needs an anger management class.

Here goes.

God, WTF are You thinking, letting me have free will? What, are you stoned?[...]
You love me? You're one sick puppy, God. Thank you.

---

---

Posted                      

quote:

---

Turning to the distaff, we have Marvin the Martian on the table. Mr. Rock'n'roll. Frankly, he's going to need a lot of work, I fear.

For Marvin, I see him as a peppery stir-fry or as jerky. He looks like he smokes, which would cause an unpleasant nicotine flavor to the meat, so I definitely suggest a thorough cold water cleaning and then an overnight milk bath for him, changing out the milk every few hours. This will tenderize the meat and rid it of any unpleasant flavors.

For the stiry-fry, take a kilo of Marvin flank steak and cut in 3 cm strips across the grain. Marinate the meat for about two to four hours in soy sauce, sugar, a small amount of smashed fresh ginger, a splash of white wine or orange juice, red pepper flakes and a splash of fish sauce (nam pla). Make a slurry of cornstarch, cold water, a dab of soysauce. Stir fry the meat with sliced red bell pepper, bok choy, celery slices, peanuts and the slurry, let it thicken for about a minute, then serve with bean sprouts and shredded carrot on top.

---

Wrong, but delicious

--------------------
Hail Gallaxhar

Posted                       

For me, anything that Kenwritez wrote was worth reading (and a fond memory was of the PM he sent during the Let's Offend thread when he was worried he might really be offending people )
The ones which truly stick in my mind, however, were from that SoF classic, the Nativity Play. It's hard to find the best Kenwritez post - they were mostly cumulative in effect and there's not room here to quote the entire play - but his post on arriving in Bethlehem and bringing the Wise Man's gifts to Jesus has to be amongst the best. Just to explain one thing - the Nativity Play was done in Real Time and the scene for the arrival of the Wise Men was notable for the fact that they actually didn't turn up until the rest of the cast had gone to bed due to time zone difficulties!

quote:

---

Phil shakes his head sorrowfully.

"Nope, still looks like 'Bill' to me. 'Course, he is da Savior, da Messiah, da Big Paisan from Upstairs, but I woulda thought they woulda gone fer a name like...erm...uhhh...'Vinny'! Yeah, dat's da ticket!

O man...you know how long it's gonna be before she <points sneakered toe at snoring BVM> learns how to make a decent marinara sauce? She's just a kid, so's her ol' man! Kids raisin' kids! Sheesh!

Well, kids or not, He's here and you gotta do what you gotta do.

Phil rummages in the black bag.

"I dint know what to get her, but I got dis great box o' smokes for da kid. Genuwine Cuban Frankincense cigars an alla dat, I was gonna smoke 'em, den I t'ought better of it. <Lays box of cigars at Jesus' feet.> They'll come in handy when he gets married, has kids of his own."

He looks more closely at BJ. "Man, he's gonna get cold!"

Phil pulls out an infant-sized Whitesnake Christmas Tour t-shirt and gently tucks it around the sleeping baby.

He rummages in the bag again, pulls out a folded paper deed and tucks it in Joseph's robe.

"For Joey, me and da boys went in and bought him a lil' woodshop in Nazareth and a set a power toolz. It's only right; he's just startin' out, he should have his own place. Don't worry, no strings and it's clean, da Romans can't trace nuttin' back to him or to us."

"For da Beevem, I just dint know what to get 'er. Den some friends and I found dis mink coat what had...ahh...dropped offa dis speeding truck, see? Too dark to read da name, so what wuz we gonna do? Let a poifectly good coat go ta waste? It's a Myrrh brand coat, supposeda be da best."

Phil gently spreads the coat over the sleeping BVM, who turns, still snoring, and begins to drool a bit.

Phil looks at the sleeping family, pauses a bit, then softly recites: "Glory to God in the highest, and peace on earth to all men."

He pauses for a beat, then whips out an enormous hankie and honks into it.

---

Posted                          

quote:

---

This actually happened, and it's my favorite social disaster (of biblical proportions).

The Smiths are having a dinner party one night. Unbeknownst to them, a plumbing problem over the years has been allowing raw sewage to build up in the wall space. So of course on the dinner party night of all nights the pressure in the wall reaches the breaking point and said wall bursts open, showering everyone with sewage. (Incidentally, also ruining the dinner party.)

(Sidebar: The family decided to send apology notes to their guests, and actually held a contest (through a magazine, IIRC) to find the best worded note.)

Sine, if you were Mr. Smith, how would you handle such a situation, and if you were to send an apology note, how would you phrase it?

---

quote:

---

"I am terribly sorry about the little mishap the other evening. Please send me your dry-cleaning bill and the bill for the hepatitis shots."

Ken, are you nuts? Some things in life are just plain awful and aren't fixable. I'd say that's one of them. Of course I don't believe it actually happened because the smell would have been a giveaway and the drywall would have gotten soaked through and began to bulge outward. Moreover it would be a very strange floorplan that would have the bathroom pipes running through the dining room walls.

But there are occasions when you just have to start over with new friends. That's why it's better to have a yacht than a villa. You can always sail away.

---

Posted                       

quote:

---

Originally posted by Horseman Bree:
How does one find the Nativity Play? I've only been here since late '03, so I wasn't able to read it "live".

---

Posted                         

quote:

---

---

quote:

---

---

HALT!

(bunny army halts, their little eyes glowing in zombie-like stupor. They sit on their haunches, still surrounding victims)

Do you want to hear my list of demands, or do I yell "sic"? [Kelly Alves]

Kenwritez wraps the stopped bunnies in strips of smoked bacon and sprigs of rosemary, salts and pappers them, spritzes them with 4 T of lemon juice, then pops them into the greased, doughed pie plates at 375 degrees F for 40 minutes.

DING! <oven bell rings rings>

The wonderful smell of baked hasenpfeffer with rosemary and bacon spreads thoughout the room. Even Kelly's nose twitches and she licks her lips in desire for a taste.


[Thus prompting Kingsfold into agonies of remorse, aided and abetted by Rowen and Chris T. You had to be there to appreciate it. ]

--------------------
"I don't feel like smiling." "You're English dear; fake it!" (Colin Firth "Easy Virtue")
Growing Greenpatches

Posted                       

quote:

---

Originally posted by El Greco:
What kind of god helps someone find their keys or take a good grade at an exam, but leaves children starve to death or get raped?

---

Posted                       

quote:

---

Originally posted by Smudgie:
For me, anything that Kenwritez wrote was worth reading (and a fond memory was of the PM he sent during the Let's Offend thread when he was worried he might really be offending people )

---

Posted                       

quote:

---

The wonderful smell of baked hasenpfeffer with rosemary and bacon spreads throughout the room. Even Kelly's nose twitches and she licks her lips in desire for a taste.

---