From: joemahoney1950@gmail.com   
      
   My fellow fellaters of the florid fungus; my fellow praisers of the pumpkin   
   puffball.  Today, using modern science -- such as that which disproves Darwin   
   and climate change, and demonstrates conclusively that the bacterial flagellum   
   was constructed    
   meticulously by the Christian God -- we will re-examine the Biblical story of   
   the Feeding of 5,000.   
      
      Traditionally, this story -- told in Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John -- is   
   that, as Jesus swished around in his dainty floral robes, hipster-beard   
   waving, his disciples following him toting wicker baskets (hence the   
   expression "gay as a picnic basket"),    
   his disciples noted that they had reached an isolated spot.     
      
        My congregants, we *like* taking out buddies to isolated spots, don't   
   we?  Places like public parks, or better yet the restrooms therein.  And when   
   questioned as to our penchant for these odd meetings, we remind the   
   questioners of our "rigorous    
   honesty" or our "spiritual-not-religious" natures.   
      
      
        But back to the Bible.  So Jesus' disciples remind him they're in an   
   isoklated spot (Jesus was too stupid to recognize this himself), and suggest   
   that he dismiss the adoring crowd behind them so they can get him for some   
   nice suppa.   
      
      
        But Jesus says "No"; there's no need for that.  He takes five loafs of   
   bread and two fitches presented by -- what else? -- a young man, waves them   
   before the heavens, thanks God, andthen begins shredding the loafs and picking   
   apart thr fitches, and    
   before long, each follower's picnic basket is filled like an Alt-Righte's   
   rectum.  And the crowd, which has split up into groups of fifty, gorges and is   
   satisfied.   
      
      
        My kneeling, circle-jerking congregants, there are a few minor problems   
   with this interpretation.  First, Holy People don't like seafood.  The one   
   woman I've ever been comfortable with in my life (because she hates sex and is   
   therefore not    
   threatening), Robin is her name, well, she's allergic to seafood.  And to   
   spice.  "It is what it is," she says.  And she attracts many followers kin   
   this manner, who mimic her every slogan and predlilection.  And these flouncy   
   followers prefer pizzas,    
   beef, mcDonald's, and donuts.  So rather than disassembling fitches, which   
   Jesus would never touch for fear of offensing this genderless Marshall   
   Applewhite entity, he phoned delivery services for meat, donuts, and   
   Domino's.  Mmmm.  Donuts.     
      
   Large and in charge,   
   Spiritual not Relgious,   
   Cruising Cap firmly in place on my mayonnaise-oozing bald head,   
      
   Pastor Joe   
      
             
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)