Satan in the flesh

…or a really good Barbie impersonator?

WTF is Knewz? That is one of the worst written stories I’ve ever read. The phrase “cut from the womb” appears 15 times in that short story. its in nearly every " paragraph". You need to stop reading these trash sites. They’ll make you go blind.

Oo, sorry I couldn’t find a timely write-up in the Guardian for you.

The posted link had the best Barbie impersonator photos, but here’s another they missed.

OK, so Cheerleader-types really are Mean Girls.


That was the nastiest web page I have seen in months. The other stories they link to sound just as sick, it cannot be healthy to read those things, even if they are not made up. I’m off! :nauseated_face:

I once saw a huge, jet black Great Dane. Hanging from his collar was an ID tag that I thought read SATAN. When I asked the couple if I could pet Satan they flipped out.

The dog’s name was Satin. The owners were very religious and were horrified that I thought their dog’s name was Satan. They went on and on about it.

I wonder if they changed the dogs name later that day? Not that you or I will ever know the answer.

“Oh, gracious, whoever could’ve trampled my prize begonias?”

"Oh, I don’t know. Could it be… SATIN?"

From A Dirty Job by Christopher Moore:

“Why do you call this dog Mohammed?” asked the bearded man.
“Because that’s his name.”
“You should not have called this dog Mohammed.”
“I didn’t call the dog Mohammed,” Charlie said. “His name was Mohammed when I got him. It was on his collar.”
“It is blasphemy to call a dog Mohammed.”
“I tried calling him something else, but he doesn’t listen. Watch. Steve, bite this man’s leg? See, nothing. Spot, bite off this man’s leg. Nothing. I might as well be speaking Farsi. You see where I’m going with this?”
“Well, I have named my dog Jesus. How do you feel about that?”
“Well, then I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you’d lost your dog.”
“I have not lost my dog.”
“Really? I saw these flyers all over town with ‘Have You Found Jesus?’ on them. It must be another dog named Jesus. Was there a reward? A reward helps, you know.” Charlie noted that more and more lately, he had a hard time resisting the urge to fuck with people, especially when they insisted upon behaving like idiots.
“I do not have a dog named Jesus and that doesn’t bother you because you are a godless infidel.”
“No, really, you can not name your dog anything you want and it won’t bother me. But, yes, I am a godless infidel. At least that’s how I voted in the last election.” Charlie grinned at him.
“Death to the infidel! Death to the infidel!” said the bearded man in response to Charlie’s irresistible charm. He danced around shaking his fist in the Death Merchant’s face, which scared Sophie so that she covered her eyes and started to cry.
“Stop that, you’re scaring my daughter.”
“Death to the infidel! Death to the infidel!”
Mohammed and Alvin quickly got bored watching the dance and sat down to wait for someone to tell them to eat the guy in the nightshirt.
“I mean it,” Charlie said. “You need to stop.” He looked around, feeling embarrassed, but there was no one else on the street.
“Death to the infidel. Death to the infidel,” chanted the beard.
“Have you seen the size of these dogs, Mohammed?”
“Death to—hey, how did you know my name was Mohammed? Doesn’t matter. Never mind. Death to the infidel. Death to the—”
“Wow, you certainly are brave,” Charlie said, “but she’s a little girl and you’re scaring her and you really need to stop that now.”
“Death to the infidel! Death to the infidel!”
“Kitty!” Sophie said, uncovering her eyes and pointing at the man.
“Oh, honey,” Charlie said. “I thought we weren’t going to do that.”

Charlie slung Sophie up on his shoulders and walked on, leading the hellhounds away from the bearded dead man who lay in a peaceful heap on the sidewalk. He had stuffed the man’s little woven hat in his pocket. It was glowing a dull red. Strangely, the bearded man’s name wouldn’t appear in Charlie’s date book until the next day.
“See, a sense of humor is important,” Charlie said, making a goofy face over his shoulder at his daughter.

(When Sophie points at something and says “kitty”, it drops dead.)

Heh. I know a Chinese family who adopted a dog from a shelter. When I met the dog I was told the dog’s name was Chipoo.

I assumed Chipoo meant something in Chinese. When I asked why they named the dog Chipoo, they said that was her name already. They showed me the dog’s paperwork which said she was a Chihuahua Poodle mix, a Chipoo.

Many years ago, Hank Ketcham (cartoonist of Dennis The Menace) ran a story arc in which Dennis adopts a stray cat, which he names Hotdog. The theme of the story arc was that all the other people around Dennis simply could not accept that a cat could be named Hotdog.

Thanks for that. I’ve been looking for my next good read.

“That’s nothing,” Charles said. “If you feed them mini-propane tank they burp fire.”

Really? It’s not The Philosophical Strangler, but still a great read. Thanks!

Most of his books are pretty good, if you want to try more Moore.