From now on, I'm never going on vacation without five copies of The Gospel Of The Flying Spaghetti Monster.You know those annoying hotels that try to force the owner's belief on you by locating Bibles in the beds, on the TV, in the medicine cabinet and in the shower (true story)? I found a way to get back at those jerks. Take all of their Bibles and replace them with The Gospel Of The Flying Spaghetti Monster. I don't mean hide the Bibles either. I mean steal them. It's quite simple: They proposed that you convert to Christianity and offered you a Bible. You accepted both the proposition and the gift and returned with your own offer to show your thanks. If they turn you down, it's their loss.
In fact, I'm not going to limit myself to annoying hotels. From now on, I'll get up bright and early on Saturday mornings (4:00 a.m. sounds good), dress up in a nice suit, bring some friends, print out some Pastafarianist propaganda and knock on the door of every Jehovah's Witness in the state and harass them into converting. Same principal as hotels: They made an offer, I turned them down and gave them my own offer out of the goodness of my heart. They will likely eventually return with another offer. When that happens, I will too. If everyone did this, they'd give up harassing us eventually.
Oh, and why limit myself to doing this only in person and in hotels? Other people don't. So, next time a Church mails me about how I need to convert NOW to get into heaven, which is a wonderful land of marshmallows, whiteness, pearls, saints, preachers, pedopriests, happiness, expensive foodd (likecaviar), singing, and dancing. Except for the marshmallows, that place sounds pretty crappy to me. Of course when compared to the next part of the letter, which describes Hell, a horrible, smokey, burning, torture-y, firey, flaming, demonic, suffering land of coal (which tastes much worse than marshmallows) it sounds ok.Generally they conclude these letters by telling me that God loves me, even if he intends to cause me infinite torture simply because I disagree with his followers.
Well, I'm not taking it anymore! I'll send them a letter informing that if they don't begin worshipping the omnipotent, omniscient, omnifarious Flying Spaghetti Monster, they will never make it into Heaven, a place of beer volcanoes and pizzas tress and strip poles as far as the eye can see. Of course, I will go on to explain that Hell is quite similar, however the beer is stale, the pizza was made by a German guy from Texas using rotten tomatoes, and the strippers are ugly and have herpes. I will then conclude by telling them that FSM loves them and, unlike some other Gods I can name, he at least gives the non-believers SOMETHING.
Oh, and those guys who dress like priests and stand on city corners screaming that we must convert or burn in Hell aren't off the hook either. After I've sent out all the mail and harassed some Jehovah's Witnesses, I'm going to a large city dressed in full Pirate regalia and screaming that they must worship FSM or go to Hell. And, unlike those priests who must flee to the Pope-mobile when a cop tells them to shut the fuck up, any police officer who tries to stop me had better watch his back, because full pirate regalia includes a pistol, a cutlass, and a blunerbuss.
And I'm also going to try to convince the government to let Pastafarians borrow tax dollars to construct a multi-million dollar Pirate Ship-shaped temple to the FSM in which we may conduct our Noodly Worship. I will also eventually convert it into a private school where at least one period of the day will be dedicated to indoctrinating children into the Noodly Ways. The lunch menus will, of course, be limited to pasta, ramen, meatballs, pizza, beer, and any other food discussed within the FSM's Gospel.
May all who read this by touched by His Noodly Appendage. RAmen.
Wow... I was originally going to make this one paragraph and go on to explain how we can make money by going to war... I didn't realize religious people wanted to convert me this badly.
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