Wednesday, September 11, 2013

And Now A Word From Our Sponsor

Picture this: you're on a date. You've had a fabulous dinner followed by expensive drinks, and now you're parked in front of her house saying good night. You lean in for a kiss and she cowers back like dogs are attacking. "It's been a wonderful evening," she stutters. "Let's please not ... spoil it."

What's gone wrong? Odds are you've just fallen victim to the number-one killer of the one-night stand: your breath was just too fresh.

See, you put a lot of effort into that date. Maybe too much effort, in fact. You shaved, got dressed up, maybe splashed on a little cologne. At first your girl thought it was nice. Then when you started asking about her day and wondering what she thought, she realized you'd put more effort into this than she did. The die was cast. When she smelled that fatal dose of minty Mentos on your breath she thought, "Ohmigod, this dude is crazy desperate!"

Well, buckle up and get ready for your life to change with Colgate's new Coffee and Cigarettes scent. It not only cleans and whitens your teeth, but it leaves behind the odor of freshly-ground French roast (black, no sugar) and unfiltered Pall Mall cigarettes.

Colgate's harsh new scent has been scientifically formulated to totally addle today's women. At first whiff she'll think you were busy and semi-thoughtless, but over the next seven to ten minutes it'll occur to her that deep down you don't care about her at all. Before the night is over the unmistakable truth will have solidified in her head: you have better things to do and don't care about her at all. Now lean in for that kiss and see where you get! Just make sure you've got coffee and cigarettes for two.



Also look out for new Colgate Advanced Coffee and Cigarettes, to give you twelve-hour protection against looking like you give a fuck.


It's actually sort of refreshing to realize that Spotify knows nothing about me. I mean, if they think I was still in school at the age of 38 then they won't be a whole lot of help to the NSA.

Monday, September 9, 2013

Dear AMC TV employees:

You've never heard of me, but I found all your email addresses on Google. Based solely and entirely on that string of letters with "@" in the middle I've decided that you all want to get email from me. Surely you agree, since that's apparently why I get email from you.

Today I'm having chicken sandwiches for lunch. Just broiled chicken on bread. I always liked mayo but recently decided it's kind of gross, like lube for a sandwich. I don't even like getting my throat greased up when Raoul's in town.

If you don't want to receive these updates in the future, UNSUBSCRIBE HERE. Either click on the box where it says DINING DELIBERATIONS or unclick it: one of them subscribes and one unsubscribes but I didn't take notes when I set it up.

Welcome to my email list!
RomanHans



Dear AMC TV employees:

Hi. It's me again. I played a little joke on you: the checkboxes on my UNSUBSCRIBE page don't work at all. Or as you guys say, "Please allow ten days for your changes to take affect." Ha!

I really don't get fashion. Everybody says you've got to wear a black belt with black shoes. And then I tune into Project Runway and chicks get reamed for being too "matchy-matchy"! Is that a thing? Do I need to buy something brown?

If you don't want to receive this newsletter, CLICK HERE and uncheck the box next where it says WARDROBE WONDERINGS. Please allow blah blah blah.

All the best,
RomanHans



Dear AMC TV employees:

Me again. I know you unsubscribed from WARDROBE WONDERINGS and DINING DELIBERATIONS. Hell, I haven't seen four hundred people move so fast since I went swimming in white Speedos. But this is a brand new newsletter and I thought you'd be interested.

Did you know tofu increases estrogen production? I was having lunch with a girlfriend when she was all, "Roman, you are turning into a chick." And I was like huh? She said, "You're vegetarian, right? You're eating lots of tofu? Well, tofu causes estrogen production, and it's turning you into a chick." Naturally I was relieved. I mean, I'd assumed she was badmouthing my skirt.

Stay tuned for more updates with my weekly LUNCHTIME LAUGHS newsletter. You should probably forget about unsubscribing because I'm just doing new newsletters every week until Jesus returns.

All the best,
RomanHans



Dear AMC TV employees:

Well, out of the kindness of my heart I added a box that said UNSUBSCRIBE ME FROM ALL NEWSLETTERS, and all four hundred of you did. This means you won't get any more of my newsletters. This, however, is a one-time email I thought would interest you. Why? Because you're the people who kept emailing me crap about Breaking Bad when I DON'T WATCH THAT SHIT and COULDN'T GIVE A FUCK.

Today it's warm in my apartment, so I put the air conditioning on. Rain is dappling at the windows so I kind of want to open them but I live over a Chinese restaurant and the Amityville Horror can't compete with those kinda flies.

This has been WEATHER WONDERINGS.

Okay, I'm not a sadist. All your angry notes have finally gotten to me. If you really don't want to hear from me, CLICK HERE and initial where it says, "Roman, I apologize for incessantly emailing you crap about Breaking Bad when you DON'T WATCH THAT SHIT and COULDN'T GIVE A FUCK. I promise we'll never email you again."

It'll work; I promise. But if I ever hear from you again, my next update is called SEXY SHENANIGANS and my pubic hair went gray back in 1982.

All the best,
RomanHans


Looking for a good book? The Philadelphia Independence Visitor Center has a varied stock. Here's some choice selections from their Noxious Gas and African American Studies section.

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

"Undercover Boss" Celebrates Its 500th CEO Shocked To Discover His Employees Aren't Paid A Living Wage

This week CBS TV's "Undercover Boss" will celebrate its 500th episode, and the 500th company president who had absolutely no idea his employees worked so hard for so little.

"The initial idea was to show both sides," said Mitchell Michelson, the show's producer. "Show incompetent employees getting fired, and terrific employees being rewarded. We realized pretty quickly that we'd get sued by the incompetent employees, so instead we decided to focus on the great employees. We actually worried that we wouldn't be able to find any who weren't already well-paid and well-treated, but we laugh about that now."

The show's formula has been honed to a sheen over the years. "The CEO goes undercover and hangs out with his low-level employees," said Michelson. "He discovers that the people who have been giving him their blood, sweat and tears can't afford to buy more than one roll of toilet paper at a time. He declares that this is completely unfair and unjust, and wishes he'd taken action before. Inevitably, tears accompany these hard-won realizations, and he gives three people money and then heads home."

One might think the show's long-term success on a major network would lead to an improvement in America's workplaces, but Michelson says that doesn't appear to be the case. "You'd think people would catch on eventually," he said. "Every week there's another CEO who's shocked, totally shocked to discover his employees toiling long hours for an unlivable wage. You'd think other CEOs would tune in and say, 'Hey, I should check and see if we mistreat our workers.' But these are important, powerful businessmen. If they don't have time to ensure their employees are treated well, when would they find the time to watch TV?"

Walter Blickner, head of Blickner's Sporting Goods, raves about his experience as the 500th clueless CEO. "I had a great time," said Blickner, whose company has 214 stores and $600 million in yearly sales. "It was really a great experience, and I was really glad to take part. Of course, I was standing on the shoulders of 499 other CEOs who also 'forgot' to visit their stores and see if their employees slept in their cars."

Longtime viewers of the show will doubtless recall numerous highlights, but Michelson's personal favorite was Tamara Lepnicki, the single mom who worked 14-hour days sewing the feet onto dolls at Candy's Clown Factory for six dollars an hour. Copious tears were shed when CEO Mark Livingson discovered that Tamara's two children were taken away because she couldn't afford adequate medical care and he presented her with a 3-day cruise to the Bahamas and a trophy that named her, "QUEEN OF THE HUSTLE!"

The show was an immediate success so don't think the producers will fiddle with a winning formula. "It's been an amazing ride," said a beaming Michelson. "I'm thrilled that we can show the hardworking men and women of America that their indefatigable effort will eventually be rewarded, though currently for just three of them a week. I'd like to say that our show provides good role models for CEOs, but clearly that isn't the case and we'll just have to keep on educating them one at a time. It's my fervent hope that in the next few years we'll feature another five hundred corporate leaders who truly don't realize how shitty it is to work for them."


Tuesday, September 3, 2013

Evolutionary Biologists don't get much respect. And rightly so! Whereas many intelligent people contribute to the world by investigating the regulation of serotonin uptake by postsynaptic receptors or the effect of cognitive behavior therapy on body dysmorphia, EBs spend years struggling to explain why people still have eyebrows.

They come up with these ridiculous explanations -- spoiler alert: it's all about sex -- and then preface them with disclaimers like, "Of course, there's no way we can know for sure." Men have pubic hair because it holds pheromones, thereby attracting sexual partners. Men have facial hair because it provides physical evidence of reproductive prowess, thereby attracting sexual partners. Gosh, I guess that's why there are so few Chinese! And if indeed the end-all of evolution was to get us all laid, wouldn't there be at least a couple people with the words "I'M RICH!" spelled out in freckles on their foreheads?

When they wander away from the human community, however, EBs go entirely nuts. A terrific example is this compilation of studies examining homosexual behavior in insects. Short answer? The eight-legged dudes were all positive their partners had vaginas.


Whereas larger animals have developed more complicated homosexual motivations — like maintaining alliances, which has been found in certain primate and seagull species — insects seem to mistakenly partake in it in a hasty attempt to secure mates.

This opening statement says more about the scientists than about the bugs. There are a lot of reasons to have gay sex, they say, then cite that it's a great way to make friends. Really? If I want to make friends, I lend someone money. Help them pack. Feed their dog when they're on vacation. Put their erect penises in my mouth? It's not going to make the top ten.

Insects, though, don't even use this stupid excuse to go gay. No, they're in such a hurry to fuck, they don't even notice their partner's lack of vagina. After every instance of homo insect sex, apparently, the EBs have witnessed dude smacking his exoskeleton forehead and going, "Oops! Sorry! No homo!"

The study's idiot co-author goes even farther up the ridiculous-theory ladder.


"[Insects] have evolved to mate quick and dirty," said study co-author Inon Scharf, an evolutionary ecologist at Tel Aviv University. "They grab every opportunity to mate that they have because, if they become slow, they may give up an opportunity to mate." Sometimes, such extreme indiscrimination leads to mating with inanimate objects, as has been observed in beetles trying to mount glass bottles.

Got that? Beetles don't just mistakenly fuck dudes because they think they're chicks. No, they mistakenly fuck bottles because they think they're chicks. Scharf actually says that glass bottles look like giant female beetles. I guess that explains why women always run screaming out of liquor stores.


Other studies do, however, show evidence of more intentional and malicious motivations behind homosexual insect sex. Male butterflies, moths and wasps, for example, use same-sex encounters to distract competitors from potential female mates.

Really? You know, I've had sex a few times. Guys have approached me in bars, said, "Why don't we go back to my place?", and we've fucked. But I'm relatively sure the guy's primary motivation hasn't been to keep me away from the hot chicks. And I'm not sure how a scientist would determine this motivation. He see a bunch of moths, both male and female. The male moths start fucking. They're all lubed up and screwing and an actual, thinking scientist says, "Wow, they really want to distract the other dudes from all the women!"


Certain beetles have even been found to use same-sex mounting as a way to spread sperm to other males that may then pass it along to the next female he mounts,...

Sigh. Well, I guess we should have seen that coming. Now Bob Beetle is ejaculating on Barry Beetle's chest in hopes it'll get rubbed against Betty Beetle. I'm trying to figure out how EBs work out this whole cause-and-effect. Beetles have gay sex, then still dripping sperm they hang around with females. I'm thinking (1) they have to hang around with females because there's no Insect West Hollywood, and (2) beetles have a hard time cleaning up.


     Dear Scientists,
     Maybe the beetles would have wiped off the cum but, you know, they don't have Kleenex.
     Hope this helps,
     RomanHans

Are you getting the idea that beetles have a lot of gay sex? Well, it appears you're right.


[O]ne study found that certain male insects have developed femalelike genitals to lower the risk of damage from homosexual penetration.

That's my favorite beetle anecdote, and definitely the pièce de résistance. That's the story that sets intelligent people giggling because it destroys that whole "confused hetero" theory. Let's set the scene: there's a whole colony of horny insects, but all the males are just buttfucking each other. Constantly buttfucking. In fact, they buttfuck so often it's actually a threat to their lives. (Mental note: could this be why crabs walk sideways?) Male insects go gay so often that even God is throwing in the towel. He's like, "Holy Christ! If I give you guys fake vaginas, would you please stop fucking each other in the butt?"

And what's the first thing Evolutionary Biologists have to say about these insects? NONE OF THEM ARE GAY.

Sadly, I see a lost cause, at least for the near future. Because if rampant gay sex won't convince scientists that not all insects are straight, what will? Will they need to carry little rainbow flags? Hold parades? Open discos? That would certainly be one of the most disgusting things I could think of, and I've been to Oil Can Harry's.


Friday, August 30, 2013

Random Thoughts

I'm not really like other people. When I get stressed out, I run around like a chicken with its head.
I'd stayed at the Hyatt at the Bellevue before, so I remembered. I remembered setting the air conditioning on HIGH the second I set foot in my room, and I remembered that when I returned after eight hours of sightseeing the place was still as stale and dry as day-old toast. Still, I'd made it through that last visit and I figured I'd make it through this one too.

I didn't. I woke up at 4 a.m. lightly bathed in sweat. I don't particularly mind sweating in bed, except I was alone.

Not helping matters was the bedding. It was dark and the covers were mangled and somehow the tiny top sheet had gotten swallowed up by the thick duvet. My options seemed like either arctic provisions or a naked man laying atop a mattress. While I enjoy the odd naked man, I also know that after laying prone for a period of time, his body partially liquifies and forms folds and wrinkles that rival the Grand Canyon if it had curly brown hair springing out of its chasms. Not to mention the whole Tennessee Williams stigma that comes with oppressive heat and sleeping:

STELLA: Oh, Brick. This heat is like a vice, squeezing the living daylights out of me. The dank air is settlin' in my lungs so it's like I'm a'wallowin' and a'frettin' in the soggy recesses of a swamp rather than at the luxurious Hyatt at the Bellevue.

BRICK: I can't take it, Stella! It's circling my head like a buzzard and squeezing me like a snake and I swear it's going to suck me dry. Every breath I take my mouth turns to sand, and I can't move without feeling the accursed vines of the kudzu plant creeping up my thick, tattooed legs here on the edge of the upscale Rittenhouse Square shopping district.

I'm not the kind of person who accepts something and lets it go, especially if it means paying big bucks to not sleep for eight hours. I'm definitely a "bee in my bonnet" kind of guy, except I own the Bonnet Store. I hit a button on the phone that said "GUEST REQUESTS." I wasn't sure it was appropriate: it sounded like it was for people who ran out of hair gel rather than, say, people who had reached medium-rare, or didn't like lions clawing down their doors.

I explained the situation to the woman. She offered to send up an engineer to fix the thing, but in my book putting on clothes and having company pretty much means sleep time is done. Instead I went with her helpful tips: first, set the fan on AUTO instead of HIGH. I assumed that something running constantly at top speed was more efficient than something that randomly turned on and off, but I've never been paid to think at 4 a.m. Second, set the desired temperature at 68 instead of 60. I may have missed the logic here, but apparently if the air conditioner thinks the job is too big, it won't even give it a try. When the desired temperature is close to room temperature, it feels like it's got a fighting chance.

She also offered to send up a fan. I got the idea that if she worked at Avis and my Mercedes broke down, I'd be tooling around Philly on a Big Wheel.

I decided to go with her helpful tips. Twenty minutes later, when I realized the temperature wasn't going to change and I wasn't going to sleep, I called back and asked for the engineer.

I completely banished any thoughts of a silver lining when he arrived and wasn't even remotely hunky. He confirmed that the GUEST REQUEST tips were total crap while he pulled the AC filter out. He actually thought I'd be interested to know that it was two inches thick with lint, and I waited while he fetched a new one. "It'll be okay now!" he said. Really? I thought. Is that the Hyatt motto? If I find a hair on the Grilled Skuna Bay Salmon at the XIX restaurant will the waiter pluck it off and proclaim, "Looks like it's okay now!"

Needless to say, I was a bit grumpy when I boarded the MegaBus home. The guy behind me talking nonstop on his cellphone certainly didn't help. In his fourteenth conversation his voice suspiciously lowered, clearly indicating a female on the other end.

"Nickname?" he asked in Barry White's voice. "You gave me a nickname?" He chuckled long and low and I actually started to think it was sweet. "Yeah," he said, "I like that nickname. We'll have to give you a nickname too." Another pause while my chilly heart defrosted. I felt like recommending the standards: Sweetie, Darling, Honeybunch. "Okay," he finally said. "We'll call you Downstairs Margo."

I sighed. New York City's skyline appeared in the distance and I thought, "Well, it looks like I'm okay now."



What did the zookeeper witness in the white animal section? They were all hanging around their rooms and cutting themselves.

Real answer: PANDA-MONIUM

Thursday, August 29, 2013

Spent Tuesday night in Philly at the Hyatt at The Bellevue. Hoped the air conditioning would kick in eventually; it didn't. Woke up at 4 a.m. sweating. Called the front desk. "I can send up a fan," she said. I said, "I'm a goddamn business traveler, not Cho-Cho-San."

Thursday, August 22, 2013

Dr. Phil Tweet Outrages People Who Misinterpret A Poll Question And Think He Found A Drunk Girl And Wanted Advice


Story.

News Roundup

Former teen heartthrob David Cassidy was pulled over in upstate New York for failing to dim his headlights and was charged with DWI.

Cassidy was stopped early Wednesday about 10 miles south of Albany. Tests showed his blood-alcohol content at 0.10.

The Albany Times Union reported that when the arresting officer, Tom Jones, told Cassidy his name, the singer said, "What's new, pussycat?"

I read so many times people saying their loved ones were taken because God needed more angels in heaven. This irks me so much. People don't become angels. They are totally separate beings. God brings people home for reasons all his own, and we might never understand it, but it's certainly not to gain new angels. He's got more than enough, so shut up, people!

I mean, come on. When a dog dies, does it become a chicken? Does a monkey become a sea cucumber? No! Christ, we're intelligent people, not Buddhists! It's scientifically impossible. One thing does not turn into another! When you die, you become invisible and your soul floats up to heaven but suddenly sprouting wings and magically learning how to play the harp is just patently ridiculous.

I realize I need to be patient. I've been asking God to grant me patience almost every time I feel like hitting one of the kids. And I know it's comforting thinking that after God takes us, we'll all be flying around heaven like Superman. But the sad fact is that's just a sad delusion, and as much as it pains me to say this, we need to face the cold, hard facts. We'll have to walk around on the clouds just like regular old dead people.

Of course, these clouds also have a silver lining. God likes us better than angels. That's why he gave us free will while making the angels his helpers, henchmen, and housekeepers. Yes, we make mistakes, but He gave us that freedom because he loves us so much. The angels are second-class, not as good, sad substitutes for the real thing -- pretty much like God's adoptive children. He can cast them out of heaven, but once we're in we're good. It's like heaven has a union.

Anyway, if you agree, please spread the word. Next time one of your relatives dies and a well-meaning "friend" says God must have needed another angel, politely inform them that you're strong and resilient enough to face facts: that your dead relative will be sitting at God's right hand for the rest of eternity as long as idiots like them don't get in the way.

Olympics Committee Says Russia Doesn't Discriminate Because Straights Will Also Be Arrested For Saying Anything Positive About Gays

Story.

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Gorgeous Portraits Capture The Feminine Side of Masculinity (PHOTOS)

The Huffington Post has a lovely photo essay today. I'll let them explain.

Nir Arieli's portrait series "Men" places men in traditionally feminine spaces and postures, illuminating the human characteristics that have, over time, become decidedly feminine traits. The following male muses are making us wish men felt free to explore their feminine sides more often.

Ms. Arieli gives Hanno musically-oriented props to indicate that this classless Neanderthal may actually respond to something other than pork rinds and baseball scores. He is clearly occupying an unfamiliar space: he's thinking. And not thinking about adding a back deck to the house, but about his place in the universe, his role in society, and how many calories are in rice pudding.


Paul's little trip to Gayville comes courtesy of adding one accessory and ditching another: he's lying on an effeminate bedspread and not eating a pulled pork sandwich. This portrait isn't entirely successful because it's obvious he's faking his vulnerability to get his girlfriend to blow him. Also, Paul often finds himself on a woman's bedspread because he has eighteen roommates and hasn't done his laundry since 1982.

You'll notice a lot of these models are lying down. Men don't do that a lot, because they don't have to wait for themselves to come home from work.


Tal's posture is traditionally feminine because only women aren't smart enough to find their way out of tide pools when it gets really cold. Her family is loading the ice chest, recliners and umbrella into the station wagon and she's like, "Wait! I suddenly realized why Paul never called me back in the summer of 1983!"


Can't wait 'til Ms. Arieli captures women in traditionally masculine spaces and postures, but I guess there aren't many betting parlors left and there's like zero female models willing to kick a dog. Thanks, Huffington Post!

Monday, August 19, 2013

The tastefulness of hair rides a very thin line. It's attractive, for example, in masses on Alec Baldwin's chest. It's not so hot when there's only one and it's sticking out of your kebab.

"What Not To Wear" Puts 5,000th Woman in Cinched Blouse and Belted Jacket

Today in the New York Times: "Dark and Angry" Teenager Asks Mom To Join Him On Royal Caribbean Cruise

He wasn’t just an ordinary teenager who rolled his eyes and walked 10 paces ahead of me, either. He had grown into someone dark and angry, and when I was with him, I either felt like I was isolated in a psychological freezer or needed to hide in a bunker. He had called me unthinkable names and shattered my heart to smithereens. When he asked me to go on the cruise,

Friday, August 16, 2013

How To Tell If Someone Is Lying

They Speak Formally. Bill Clinton said "I did not have sexual relations" instead of the more familiar contraction "I didn't have...". This is typical of people who are lying; to avoid contractions and use more formal language to distance themselves from the lie.

I'd never heard of this rule until a Headline News anchor confirmed it on TV, again citing Bill Clinton as the gold standard of liars. I don't know how that man ever fooled us with his ridiculously stilted words! I feel like an idiot, being duped with so many tall tales, but with this handy rule I know it won't happen again. In the future I'll be on the lookout for truthtellers using honest words like these:

  • Houston, we've a problem.
  • We're the world.
  • We'll fight on the beaches.
  • We're not amused.
  • I'll return.
  • We're legion.
  • I'm Spartacus.
  • I've a dream.
  • I'm the greatest.
  • Don't judge, or you too'll be judged.
  • The only thing we've to fear is fear itself.
  • I'm what I'm.
  • Thou shan't kill.

Thursday, August 15, 2013


I don't know why nobody's thought of this before. If you want to build a massive structure, what building material makes the most sense? Wood means chopping down trees. Cement means digging up land. What we need is something that's environmentally-friendly and sustainable, with a supply will never run low.

Hey, how about human bodies?

There's certainly no shortage of human bodies, which is why the Great Cross is such a terrific idea. It'll be length of ten football fields, and eighteen stories tall. It'll be "the largest Christian monument in the world dedicated to Jesus Christ" (are there bigger Christian monuments dedicated to, say, Fozzy Bear?) and will be "easily" visible from space.

And it's going to be a stack of dead Christians.



The Great Cross Alliance is dedicated to constructing the largest, longest-lasting Christian monument in the world. It will be built of columbarium and mausoleum vaults that are available for purchase for you and your family. The Great Cross will be supported by a world-wide community who choose to become part of this beautiful vision dedicated to Jesus Christ.

Naturally the people who propose this massive project have also written the world's longest FAQ. It answers questions like:

  • May I Visit? (Answer: Yes!)

  • Will Participants Be Identified? (Answer: Yes! We'll glue "Hello! My Name Is" stickers to their feet. Psych! Ever hear of headstones, people?)

  • Can I Donate To Help Build The Great Cross? (Answer: No, sorry. Psych! Send us a check.), and

  • Where Did The Idea Come From?

The husband and father of the family that developed the concept had three similar dreams between 2007 and 2009. He saw an enormous, gleaming monument in the shape of a cross. The construction was a stack of large, clear glass blocks, each containing the perfectly preserved body of a person in peaceful repose.... [He] realized that such a monument could be a rallying symbol for worldwide Christianity, and a way to preserve the Word of God for a long time.

Got that? It was a vision. Jesus came to him and said, "Look! Stacks of dead Christians encased in glass as a monument to me!" And the guy replied, "Jesus, glass just does not make sense."

Where's the giant cross going to be? I found this map helpful:



Got that? NOWHERE NEAR CHINA. And how is construction coming? Well, see for yourself:



Wait. No, that's right. For a second I thought I got the construction photo mixed up with pictures of my third husband installing our eight-man hot tub.

Despite their divine inspiration, great ideas don't have such a great success rate. The Firearms Museum and Reflecting Pool still haven't been built at The Citadel. In fact, all they've got to show after nine months of fundraising is a wooden shed, but Porta-Potties are on the horizon. Unlike the dead folks who'll make up the Great Cross, its future isn't set in faux-stone.

IMPORTANT INFORMATION: The project must reach a critical level of funding before construction can begin. This level is set at the sale of 400 spaces.... Once the critical number of 400 is reached, construction will begin as soon as possible.

Did you see that? I just caught it out of the corner of my eye, but it looked like THE RED FLAG YOU CAN EASILY SEE FROM SPACE.

Mausoleum spaces at the Giant Cross are priced at $25,000 for a single casket. Four hundred of these would bring the builders ten million dollars. When it's finished, the cross "will enclose a volume of 8.6 million cubic meters," which is enough to "contain more than three Great Pyramids," but those first four hundred coffins will total only around 1,300 cubic feet. That's about the size of an eleven-foot cube, discounting the visitor's center or rainbow-refracting observatory dome they might prop on top. Initially, at least, that Christian monument you'll be able to see from space would fit into somebody's dorm room and there'd still be room for a dozen bongs and a "Hang In There, Baby!" poster. You'd drive out to the desert to look at it but it'd be totally be hidden by the World's Biggest Thermometer.

Will it be popular? Beats me. Maybe there are Christians who want to spend eternity piled up with other Christians eighty miles from Reno. But I definitely think it'll be a beacon of hope and source of inspiration to the entire world. I know every time I'll think of that mound of dead people who fall for crazy shit like this I'll say to myself, "Now that is a really good start."



(Via the very busy Joe.My.God)

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