Pastafarian Theology Doctoral Theses

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Re: Pastafarian Theology Doctoral Theses

Postby black bart on Mon Oct 24, 2011 4:43 pm

:paranoid: :paranoid:

...er...Sorry Nef Yoo, I have just set sail for Timbuktu/Wagga Wagga/Nantucket/insert appropriate destination...Will help with Diploma when I return in about 40 years.
The smoke wafted gently in the breeze across the poop deck and all seemed right in the world.
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Re: Pastafarian Theology Doctoral Theses

Postby Nef Yoo BlackBeard on Tue Oct 25, 2011 8:15 am

Um... hokay, heer me storey.

Why yer shood niver eet cheez befour bedtime by Nef Yoo BlackBeard age 3
Um… hokay, so thee goode shippe Lollypoppe wuz in Portsmuff fer supwyse, lyke lollys an peetzer an chocklit milk and sech, an an an thee crew wuz all thayre, seaman Stanes, master Bates, an Roger thee cabin buoy, hexcep we ran owtuv fish ed stoo, an thee crew wuz lyke hooray hooray thayres no fish ed stoo! but hi says hokay hi go inter town an gets sum. So I puts on a fresh dyper an gets mee bagger dubloons an goes inter town.

Hi goes inter thee first shop an says hi coman yer giv mee fish ed stoo! an thee man says hi ain’t got nun, so I runnim froo an goes to thee nex shoppe an says to thee man hi coman yer gib mee fish ed stoo! an he says he ain’t got nun eever. Hi ax him wye an hee says thet bart innerstrees bin shut down by thee viro-mental helff an thee revenue man again. So hi runnim froo an go to thee nex shoppe.

Thee nex shoppe is thee same, an mee cutlass is getting blunt wiff all thee runnin froo by now, so hi stops to have a fink.



Hi sitten on a bench on thee hi street, an thares theez men all playen geetars an blowen on pan pipes, an they dressed in big doormats wiff funny hats on. So hi goes up ter thum an sez duz yer noe ware hi kin get sum fish ed stoo? an wun o them sez “Buenos Dias Senor! We are the finest Peruvian boskers in all of Portsmout. You want to buy a CD of pen pipe music? Ees muy muy relaxoso!” So hi sez no hi looken fur fish ed stoo, nut cds, duz yer no ware hi kin get sum? an thee bloke says “Bueno, Senor, I do not know, but I know someone who does, my brother he has these llama, ees very clever llama, eet knows everytheeng”.

So we goes to see thee mans bruvver, an thee bruvver got this stupid looken sheep wiff a big long neck, but hi carnt see no llama. Hi dunt noe wot a llama looks lyke, but it dunt look lyke noe sheep. But thee blokes bruvver is wareig thee same sort of doormat an silly hat, they all look thee same lyke thee Ramones or sumfink, an hee sez “Hola Senor! Theese ees my llama, ees a verry especial llama, every day eet tells thee fortunes and answers thee questions. We call eet El Llama del Dia, but that joke eet no work so good in Spanish, so we call it the Daily Llama”.

So hi sez “Oy! Stupid sheep fingy! Hi coman yer tell me ware hi get fish ed stoo!” an the llama looks at me an then spits on mee jyint hatte. Thee bloke, or it mytev been is bruvver hi dunno, says “Senor, you must speak to the Daily Llama respectfully or eet weel not answer you” so hi sez good hafternoon sur! Hi am thee notarised… notortoise… famous Capn Nef Yoo BlackBeard of thee goode shippe Lollypoppe, an hi needs ter find me sum fish ed stoo fer me crew iffn yer wooden mine, fank ye yer welkum?

“Ah, fish head stew, eh?” says thee llama, an he sownds juss lyke thet Steven Fry bloke offer thee telly, “Well, I am afraid to tell you, young man, that there is no fish head stew to be had in all of Portsmouth. If fish head stew is what you really want, what you really need, then I am afraid you must undertake a perilous and unpleasant voyage. It will be dark and noisy, smelly, cramped and dangerous, you will meet many dangers and fight off many foes on the way: you must take a train to London. South West Trains, part of the Stagecoach group run by those fundamentalist idiots Ann Gloag and Brian Souter. I wish you good luck, and may the Flying Spaghetti Monster go with you”.

So hi goes to thee trane stayshun to gets mee ticket. Thee man at thee ticket office says “Are you travelling alone? Because the Super Midweek Saver ticket is not applicable to children travelling on their own unless it is a Bank Holiday Monday in a month with an R in it. I could give you a one-way Ultra-Saver Family ticket via Milton Keynes but only if you are travelling back yesterday. Failing that I can offer you a First Class business ticket with complementary champagne which you can’t have because you are a child for £457.22” so hi runnim froo wiff mee cutlass. Thee cue of peoples beehynd mee all started ter cheer.

Hi goes ter thee platform to get on thee train, an they’res thee Daily Llama standin there, so hi says hello llama, wuts you doin heer? an he says “Well, my dear chap, I find myself somewhat less than enamoured with my current compatriots and their tedious pan pipe dirges, I feel the need to spread my wings a little, although only metaphorically of course, being a llama, but I thought ‘Why not? Why not head off to London for an adventure with this young man? It must be better than having one’s picture taken with tourists and telling fortunes’. Also, I forgot to give you something. When you get to London, you’ll be needing this” an thee llama gives me an ole cardboard box wiff a bit of string to carry it rown yer neck. “Don’t open it just now” he says “You’ll know when to open it, when to use it”.

So we gets on thee train an thee llama says to me “Now, I know you are a notorious pirate captain, the scourge of the seven seas no doubt, but might you indulge me on this occasion and leave all the talking to me? These railway types are very officious and pernickety, and it is your first time dealing with them” so I sez wut? an he sez “Shut up and let me do the talking”. Juss then this horrible ogre cums running up thee train, an he meyken theez horrible noyzes an he smells reely bad so hi goes fer me cutlass, but thee llama stops me. “AAARRRGGHHH!!! GRRROAAAWWWRRRR!!! WARE BEE YER TICKET! WWWRRROOOAARRRRGGHHH!!! I COMAN YER SHOW MEE YER TICKET!!!” screams thee ogre.

“Now look here my good man, there’s no need for that. This poor child is deaf, he cannot hear a word you are saying” sez thee llama.
“YER A SHEEEEP!!! YER CARNT BRING NO SHEEEP ON NO TRAYNE!!! IMMA MAKE KEEBABS WIFF YER GRWOAAAAARRRRR!!!” says thee ticket hinspeckter.
“Actually, I am a llama, not a sheep. Lama Glama, not Ovis Aries to be precise in the matter; in fact I am a guide llama for the deaf. This young man is exempt from holding a ticket due to his status as a deaf dwarf orphan from the family of a Chelsea Pensioner, and I am allowed to travel with him free of charge as his guide animal. It is all in the standard terms of carriage, section 16 subsection 11 paragraph 3. You do have your copy of the standard terms of carriage with you, don’t you? Oh dear, that would be a glaring omission on the part of a ticket inspector, but on this occasion perhaps I won’t mention it to your superiors. I trust we understand each other? I will wish you good day, sir”.
Thee ticket ogre whisperz “I GOT SOM MINT SAUCE WIFF YER NAYME ON IT, SHEEEP…” an then ee goes back down thee train agen to eet sum German backpackers wiff sum fava beens an a nyce chianti.

So we gets ter London an wee gets off thee train an goes owt of thee stayshun, and thare is this big court house wiff loads of peeples and fertogrufers an sech an they all showten HANG IM! HANG IM! at this chubby bald bloke, an then hi has anuvver look an it’s Unkle Farty! Unkle Farty in London goin into thee court wiff a bunch of pleecemans! Unkle Farty muss be reely importent ter be garded by so menny pleecemens, so we goes ter see wot is happenin.

So we goes inter thee court, an thare’s Unkle Farty right up in his own speshul box ryte at thee front, an this bloke in a wigge juss lyke Thee Black Spotte stands up ter speek. “If it please your Lordship, I will begin by laying the charges before Mr. Bartholemew Antony Wolfric Brian Blackbart, of no fixed abode, care of Portsmouth Police. Mr Blackbart, you are charged that on the nineteenth of September in the year of our lord 1749, at your premises in Portsmouth, you did wilfully and with malice aforethought produce Fish Head Stew using condemned fish heads that were not fit for human consumption, and had in fact been retrieved from a landfill site by person or persons unknown, possibly a dog working under the alias of ‘Milo’; to the personal injury and peril of the public of that town. How do you plead?”
So Unkle Farty says “Ooh, I can feel a proper rasper coming on, isn’t it? Nobody light a candle, eh? Too much Theakston’s Old Peculier last night, Boyo. Hang on to your hats, here it comes…” an then Unkle Farty lets out a reeeeeeeely biiiiiiig faaaaaaaaaaart!
THTHTHTHTHTHTHTHTHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPP
PPPPPPSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH
FFFFFFFFFFFFFPTPTPTPTPTPTPTPTPT!!!!!….
THRPT!!!!…THRPT!!!…PFFFTTT!!!...psssssss…..


All thee blokes get thare wigs blown off, an lots of thee ladees fainted, peeples started clymin over thee seets to hescape thee dreadful smell. Thee llama sez to mee “Now! Now is the time to open the box!” so hi opens thee box, an thare’s this rubber mask wiff two big glass eye holes an a big long nose bit. “It’s a gas mask! put it on now!” says thee llama, and then he passes out from thee stench. So hi puts on thee gas mask and starts tryen to hescape.

Juss then, thee gas in thee court room hexplodes frum someones pipe settin it on fyre. BOOOOMMM!!! an then hi gets blowed hacross the street an lands on a pleeceman. “Are you alright little boy? Where is your mummy?” sez thee pleeceman. Hi tells him hi dunt noe ware me mummy is, cus hi don’t, me auntie wunt tell me, so he sez “Well, go and try to find her! Go and ask if anyone has seen her!” so off hi goes.

So hi walkin hup an down thee street, a little buoy in mee gas mask, walkin froo thee rubble an thee smoke, an hi asken all theese people “Are you my mummy? Are you my mummy? Have you seen my mummy?”, but they all keeps screamin an runnin away. Hi muss be more notarised an scary pyrite then wot hi fink hi am! Juss then thee llama appears again, warein a bowler hat, an hee sez “Well, this has been fun, I am sure, being the product of such a young and fertile mind, but I am afraid, little Nef Yoo, that now it is time to wake up”.

Han then hi wakes up in mee bilj, an it were all a dream. Hi et too much cheez befour bedtime agen. Fank ye ye welkum, now hi coman ye gib me diplomer fingy.

Sined NEF YOO BLUCKBEER age free. :nefyoobash:
cabin boy fir hyer. jyint hat no hextra charj.
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Re: Pastafarian Theology Doctoral Theses

Postby DavidH on Tue Oct 25, 2011 8:43 am

Neff Yoo, I quite agree that you should be certified. :haha:

(Although it was a very good story indeed.)
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Re: Pastafarian Theology Doctoral Theses

Postby pieces o'nine on Wed Oct 26, 2011 12:21 am

May hit pleeze thee court, oi hobjeckts.

That were a foine long-winded tale, roight enuff, but hit were nuffink loike a thesis fer an hadvanst degree, in thee style modeled fer us by Cap'n Roy.

Ware be thee title page, thee habstract, thee table ov contents, (theyre be plenty o' bodies, oi concedes) but not comprisin' thee vareyus chapters (inner duck shun, litter revyoo, findin's hetc.), nor a bibleeografie or refrentses seckshun. Ware be thee style? Ware be thee hackshool dissertashunin'?

Oi sais, mayke 'im rite hit over an knot use crayon this toime. :nefyoobash:
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Re: Pastafarian Theology Doctoral Theses

Postby DavidH on Wed Oct 26, 2011 4:49 am

Well, Pieces, it's more worthy of a Doctorate than Kent Hovind's thesis. Couldn't we award Neff Yoo a Choc. D. or an M. Lol.?
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Re: Pastafarian Theology Doctoral Theses

Postby Roy Hunter on Wed Oct 26, 2011 6:56 am

Aw, come on Pieces, it's got a great 'Bart blowing up a building by farting' scene in it. How can you not like that?
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Re: Pastafarian Theology Doctoral Theses

Postby Roland Deschain on Wed Oct 26, 2011 8:17 am

Who's been a very good boy then, Nef Yoo? You have, that's who. Do you want a wollipop? There you go. Now let me get your diploma for you, for being a good boy. I've made it really pretty so it matches your wall. Here you go:-

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Re: Pastafarian Theology Doctoral Theses

Postby pieces o'nine on Thu Oct 27, 2011 2:02 am

DavidH wrote:Well, Pieces, it's more worthy of a Doctorate than Kent Hovind's thesis. Couldn't we award Neff Yoo a Choc. D. or an M. Lol.?

Yes, a degree in Chok. Lit. or Peetzer Pi would be appropriate. In a manner of speaking.

Roy Hunter wrote:Aw, come on Pieces, it's got a great 'Bart blowing up a building by farting' scene in it. How can you not like that?
(Let alone referencing The Empty Child - I thought you were a Doctor Who fan?)

Yes I am, and never let it be said that I would dis a fellow Whovian.

Roland Deschain wrote:Who's been a very good boy then, Nef Yoo? You have, that's who. Do you want a wollipop? There you go. Now let me get your diploma for you, for being a good boy. I've made it really pretty so it matches your wall. Here you go:-

Okay, okay, thee peeps have spoken.


May I add that I am eagerly awaiting the dissertation on the Second Law of Thermodynamics. :scientist:
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Re: Pastafarian Theology Doctoral Theses

Postby Roland Deschain on Thu Oct 27, 2011 7:10 am

I did give him a "Special" doctorate, so that could translate into whatever you want. It's not necessarily a PPhD (Pastafarian Philosophy Degree). For a three year old, I think he did very well. Bart must be so very proud of him... :haha:

I also look forward to this Second Law of Thermodynamics thesis. It should be interesting to see it proven that abiogenesis and evolution could not have occurred. I've always thought there was something dodgy with these so-called theories!

(I know I still have mine to do. I just need a solid block of time to sit down and flesh it out)
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Re: Pastafarian Theology Doctoral Theses

Postby DavidH on Thu Oct 27, 2011 7:15 am

If I agree NOT to bore the bejazus out of everybody with a tedious thesis on linguistics, would you just give me the sustificit anyway?

The title would have been: Correspondences between French and certain human languages.
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Re: Pastafarian Theology Doctoral Theses

Postby Roland Deschain on Thu Oct 27, 2011 7:27 am

The rules are quite clear, David. I can't believe you would have the gall to ask me that question. HOW DARE YOU!?!?!? I get sick and tired of people...Oh, wait a minute, I forgot I have flimsy moral standards. Of course i'll make you one up. Any particular preference on the designs? :haha:

(If you could provide a thesis at some point in the future, even a condensed one, I would love to read it. I promise not to get bored, lol)
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Re: Pastafarian Theology Doctoral Theses

Postby DavidH on Thu Oct 27, 2011 8:02 am

Thank'ee, Roland.

Any particular preference on the designs?


I'll leave it to you, just so long as it's very flashy. :fsm_rock:
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Re: Pastafarian Theology Doctoral Theses

Postby pieces o'nine on Thu Oct 27, 2011 11:36 pm

DavidH wrote:Thank'ee, Roland.

Any particular preference on the designs?


I'll leave it to you, just so long as it's very flashy. :fsm_rock:


I would be delirious with joy if you could render it in French for the occasion... :lol:



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Re: Pastafarian Theology Doctoral Theses

Postby Cap'n Tedward on Fri Oct 28, 2011 3:12 am

I've already published my thesis on mythology. You can get it in most book stores, listed under King James Version.
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Re: Pastafarian Theology Doctoral Theses

Postby Roland Deschain on Fri Oct 28, 2011 10:37 am

Cap'n Tedward wrote:I've already published my thesis on mythology. You can get it in most book stores, listed under King James Version.

That, my friend, is a classic. Not sure about all the obsessive smiting and incest, but it's controversial enough to merit something doctoral. Needs more Unicorns, though. If you check the first page, let me know which design you require and it shall be done. I'm trying to think of a title for your degree, but bulls*** doesn't quite cut it... :haha:

(Maybe "Mythological Characters and Their Relation To Invented History"? Hmmm, a difficult one)
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