1 The FSM is my shepherd; I shall not want.
2 He maketh me to lie down in green pesto:
he leadeth me beside the still marinara.
3 He restoreth my sauce:
he leadeth me in the collander of Intelligence for Science's sake.
4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the taste of terriyaki,
I will fear no bad taste: for thou art with me;
thy meatballs and thy noodles they comfort me.
5 Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mexican food:
thou anointest my head with olive oil;
my cup runneth over.
6 Surely garlic and tomato shall follow me all the days of my life:
and I will dwell in the house of the FSM for ever.
Pastas 23 note from Scribe Solipsy: this is lovely. I'm sorting it, however, into Pastalms.