How did the man in the LEFT photo transform into the man in RIGHT photo?
What happened to him?
What is his story?
(the more ludicrous the better )
Originally Posted by Stache
Who said some folks lack passion.
Quit the medicine doc, you have a definite future in creative writing.
Originally Posted by FRAU
Bob was wildly happy with his Wall Street lifestyle. He had it all - the Armani suits, the 6 digit salary, a woman on each arm. He even laughed all the way to the bank when the Martha scandal broke.
But still he felt something was missing.
Then one day while power-lunching with clients at an upscale Italian Bistro, Bob became mesmerized by the pattern in his pasta. He was fascinated with the perfection of curvilinear undulations, and as he sat contemplating the perfection, a single strand of pasta slipped off the side of the plate and landed on his wrist.
Of COURSE! That was IT! Bob became filled with wonder as the perfection of pasta filled his empty soul. The Flying Spaghetti Monster had touched him with His noodly appendage, and his life would never be the same....
Bob became filled with the love of the FSM and buried himself in pasta and sauce studies, devouring every word and recipe in his quest to becoming One with the FSM.
He eventually lost his job with the firm when on spiritual grounds, he refused to take his clients anywhere but the Italian Bistro, and insisted upon handing out FSM educational tracts on the street corner outside his office. Nevertheess, Bob KNEW that the Flying Spaghetti Monster was truly WITH him and he did not fear.
Eventually Bob found a job waiting tables at the Italian Bistro, which is how he met and converted his future wife Jolene to Spaghetti Monsterism. Together they launched their own Spaghetti Monster Ministry and left the Bistro to pursue their higher calling.
They started out opening a storefront soupkitchen for the underpriviledged which introduced the un-pasta'd masses to the joys of free spaghetti dinners. Bob and Jolene converted so many that they opened two more storefronts to serve the FSM and His new followers.
Eventually Bob and Jolene had a baby. Bob was so fascinated with the similarities of the curling umbilical cord to the undulating noodly appendage of the FSM that he KNEW that He and Jolene had been truly blessed, and that they were meant to have many more children by which to glorify the FSM.
When they weren't boinking like rabbits to please the FSM, Bob and Jolene found the time to establish an entire CHAIN of pastafarian temples. The Temple of Primo Pasta to the Glory of the Everlasting and Flying Spaghetti Monster started its own TV show, of which Bob and Jolene were the star hosts.
But alas, material success started dragging Bob back to some of his un-pasta'd ways. It started insidiously. First he started drinking wine that didn't come in a woven straw bottle. Then he tried some veal with his spaghetti. Before he knew it, Bob had started sneaking around on Jolene with the owner of a chain of Texas Steakhouses.
One night Bob came home reeking of flame-grilling, when he thought Jolene and the 7 kids were asleep. But Jolene was waiting up for him and saw the red stains on his collar. She knew it wasn't her brand of marinara, and when she got closer she knew the awful truth - it was...... BarBQ Sauce!
When the scandal broke, the ministry fell apart, and Bob was indicted for a money-laundering scheme involving Canadian cattle ranches and organic semolina growers. Jolene left him and took the kids with her. The children... Ragu, Fettuccini, Pesto, Parmesan, Al dente, Primavera, and Linguini were all sent to private boarding schools in Italy to further their studies and to remove them from the scandal.
Bob served ten years in the USDA Federal Food Service Program before being released on parole. Unfortunately, because of his record and notoriety, Bob couldn't even buy a job on the outside. No self-respecting eatery would hire him.
Finally, one afternoon as Bob sat morosely picking at a plate of canned Ravioli and contemplating his fate, he glanced up and saw a billboard for Alfred's Tire Service. But the way the picture of the Tire was arranged in the ad, it made the name look like "Alfredo".
ALFREDO! It's a sign from the FSM!! Bob knew he hadn't been forgotten. He raced to the tire service to apply for a job.
Bob worked long and hard for Alfred, but he knew that it was meant to be. The FSM had found him a job and showed him His perfection everyday in the undulating curvatures of tire treads - just like His Noodly Appendage.