Frog Applause by Teresa Burritt for September 30, 2018

There IS some slight disagreement as to what al dente means in regards some relationships, yes.

Throw the guy Rabbi

a torn strainer

then have game set match.

Ramen!

I, and all others whose stash of illegal untaxed Italian sourced pasta self ignited recently, curse You.

I had my name legally changed to “Noodley Tentacles”.

It is pronounced, noo`-duh-lee ten-tah-clees`, with the emphasis on “noo” and “clees”.

Well, he wasn’t lying. The cops were a bit rough. The wifi cameras picked up and recorded Flipper’s monologue, and his attempt at murder, along with the return fire that followed, just before the Shadow cut them out and headed downstairs. They didn’t have anything to hold me on. They didn’t have anything to hold Kelly on. They didn’t have anything to hold the Shadow on. But they did anyway, for as long as they could. They needed the time to put their house in order, as well as they were able. There’s only so much you can do when you can’t control how information gets around. The whole spaghetti bowl of international networks for criminal enterprises and political corruption got put on the table for public consumption. Some people took it with alfredo, and some with marinara, but everybody got some.

Yeah, it looks like whoever that is with their feet in the air – Punch maybe? – is doing the lion’s share of the work.

Let’s reach right in and see what we pull out.

Ahhh … May the Flying Spaghetti Monster give us this day our daily garlic bread ….

It’s about the waiting. Let the time go by. But don’t wait.

I am really straining to understand this comic, though I must say, there probably is gnocchi to the mystery; but I could have pasta right by it without realizing. One thing I do know, that one guy is an impasta. If you find yourself in a non reciprocating relationship, you may have gone down the wrong path into pastatution. I know, I know, these puns are lame, and I surely will pay a pretty penne for my sins and am just asking pho trouble, but, wheatever.

One must sail across the pasta sea in order to reach for the Flying Spaghetti Monster..

pastafarian his the word for me

If I were a Pastafarian, I’d probably rue non-reciprocal relationships, and maybe even eschew them. But I’m not Pastafarian, do chew my noodles in most contexts (we shan’t speak of that slurping in of a single strand at a time, shall we not?), and do not care to speculate on what Those Two are doing!

Put that in your spaghetti sauce and boil the gollyjeez out of it!

Release the Linguine Kraken

Pastafarians worship the Great Pasta-Lulu, His Noodliness. They go to prepare the world, human blood to be the sauce and humans to be the pasta for him to consume. That is what the Pastafarians live for. The Great Spaghetti God and Monster to eat from their world.