The Flying Spaghetti Monster is not God; I am.
I have smitten and eaten the flying spaghetti monster. He was delicious. Of course, if you believe I am what I eat, then you may continue worshipping the Flying Spaghetti Monster in my person. I am happy when I see images of the Flying Spaghetti Monster, for they remind me of my tasty and delicious, delightful and nutritious, wonderful and filling meal. With a nice bottle of chianti. No, it was a bottle of Lady of the Lake sparkling pear wine. Sorry.
All about the Flying Spaghetti Monster.
I usually eat piles of poop, so don't even think about eating me.
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