Photo by Johnbullas under Creative Commons Licence
Staring at the tubes of Anusol and Glemoroids in Boots got me thinking about deity worship the other day. No, I don't know why, either.
This reminded me of an internet phenomenon suited to pleasing put-out Atheists at Christmas.
Three years ago The Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster was born, crediting an invisible meatball-and-pasta bodied creature with creating the universe after heavily drinking.
The number of Pastafarians, or Spagnostics, in the world grows daily. They believe global warming increases in line with decreasing numbers of pirates, thought to be pioneers of peace.
May his noodly appendage touch you.
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I expect we are all gearing up to our office Christmas parties.
A few years ago, reproduction giant Canon did a survey and found that emergency call-outs went through the roof to repair Christmas party-damaged photocopiers.
Aside from some embarrassing paper jams, engineers found a sleeping cat, a snake, a cheque for £6,000, a condom and even a sausage roll blocking copier chutes. What a party!
The office party is thought to date back to the hedonistic Roman times where they ate "without scruple".
Legendary parties have seen the West Wing of America's White House burn down while President Herbert Hoover smoked a cigar.
Good times!
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