Scoffing at all that's holy since 2004 GODSPOTTING [NOT-SO-MIRACULOUS SIGHTINGS] Okay bastards, now it's your turn.  Send me cell phone pictures of your encounters with god and other specks of public religious lunacy.  A brief description of the offense is requested.  I'll post mine if you guys are slacking off. Sermon 27: Box Seats  International! Foreign correspondent G.I. James sends us this humorous reminiscence from a recent funeral in the Fatherland [read: hanging out with a dead German dude in a box]. I got there after the service started, so I wasn't sitting with the other family members.  I was pretty much just surfing porn the whole time in the back of the church. Have you ever watched people take communion?  That's also fucking hilarious.  They're all so verdammit pious.  One thing I noticed is that they all walk with their hands clasped in front of them the entire time, from pew to boy-boning priest (would you put anything in your mouth that his hands had touched?) and back again.  Hands clasped like the mother fucking virgin mother her goddamn self the whole farggin’ way!  Apparently there's no rule though, because some of them unclasped as soon as they got back and some of them remained clasped and looked around to see if anyone else had unclasped.  If I were Uncle Fester XVI, I'd make it a rule that you can't unclasp your hands until Father Boy Fucker says "Simon says, unclasp!" And then the kids came around with collection baskets.  When one of them extended a basket my way, I gave the universal "No thanks, I don't need another schnapps..." gesture and said, "Nein, danke.  Ich habe schön genügend Geld."  [No, thanks.  I already have enough money.] Poor kid.  You should have seen the look on her face.  (Why the fuck wasn't she and her compadres in school?  Did their parents know where they were?)  Anyway, the people who sat nearby and heard my wisecrack were schocked.  [See the sch?  Cherman spelling.  Bam!]  I'm pretty sure they thought they were in the presence of Old Scratchy himself. I also made sheep noises during the quiet interludes.  And as the sheep mumbled something about "Jesus save us…" I got to wondering: who gets to sit in the box seats? I had a good time.  I really should go to church more often. Sermon 26: Quit Stalling Field correspondent Daisy Mae sat on her throne in the restroom of Barnes & Noble and snapped this picture of her stall door: Sing with me people: Satan loves you this I know, for the stall door tells me so... Sermon 25: Where Ya Gonna Be? Bastard Michelle brings us this classic Christian automotive scare tactic from the god-paved roadways of Savannah, Georgia. The window signs read: "If you died tonight would you be in Heaven or Hell?  Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved.  Acts 16:31" You're gonna die someday, perhaps even tonight, and death is forever.  So where ya gonna be, sinner?  Do you really want to roll the dice for your place in eternity?  Boo! Sermon 24: Safe Sects What do religion and dildos have in common?  They both fill the void for those who can't find anything (or anyone) else to fill it, violate and abuse the tender, and smell bad when you're done with them. Bastard Simone from Vancouver sends us this glaring proof of god's master plan.  The almighty wants us all to have safe sects. Please penetrate responsibly.  Sermon 23: In God We (Don't) Trust This couple at my gym have identical tattoos that read, "In God I Trust."  The girl has a smokin' hot bod and her boyfriend would kick my ass to a pulp up and down the Boulevard if he knew that I want to pound her rump while wearing a Jesus mask and clown shoes. As you can see, the boobs are as fake as the day is long.  Niiiice. God is perfect, and he has a plan for each of us.  A perfect plan.  He made us in his image and each of us was born EXACTLY THE WAY HE WANTED US. Her tattoo proclaims her unqualified and absolute trust in god.  It is perfectly clear and explicit.  There are no disclaimers or provisos. So why the imitation bazookas? God made you with something smaller or not quite as firm.  The Big Bad Titty-Making Sky Daddy is perfect, all-knowing, all-loving, and that was his plan for you.  If what the almighty gave you was good enough for him, then it's good enough for you.  (Trust?  Mmm, not so much.) Freewill's a bitch, eh?  So you have two options.  Either exercise your freedom to choose and get saline chest balloons, or go with blind trust and possibly end up with tiny or saggy bra meat.  Decide.  But it ain't gonna be pretty either way you go with it. I think her tattoo should read, "God shook my trust when he gave me lousy tits.  I think I'm on my own." If you're wondering how I get these pictures, I just ask.  People who enjoy tattoos are generally proud of their ink and are more than happy to answer any questions you have about them.  My standard foray into the picture is to say, "I'm a writer [true] and I'm writing a piece about religious tattoos [true].  I'm fascinated by yours [true] and would like to include it in my work [true]."  Trust me, they'll jump at the offer.  Now get out there and start photographing these inked hypocrites! And for the record, know that The Bastard has no problem at all with real tatts or fake tits. Sermon 22: Road Rage Spotted (and corrected) at the intersection of Zealotry and Psychosis, courtesy of Bastard Kenny in Los Angeles...                                BEFORE                                                         AFTER The Godless Bastard neither condones nor encourages any illegal act including but not limited to vandalizing or defacing private or public property.  Act on your own accord and at your own risk.  But for Christ's sake, if you're going to deface someone's sign take a picture and send it to me so I can shame you for being a scofflaw.  You're going to hell anyway. Sermon 21: Two Asses I took this picture while watching the 2010 NFC Championship: Vikings vs. Saints.  (Thank you, Tivo.) Look, I'm a fair guy, but anyone who thinks this is going to make a damn bit of difference needs to get his head examined.  Get the clergy off the frickin' field. Knee-Jerk Reaction: Oh, why can't you just let them be?  What harm does it do? 1. I don't entertain intellectually dishonest arguments.  You and I both know this is a pointless act. 2. I don't believe in catering to the lowest common denominator on trivial matters.  An offensive tackle might not be the sharpest Crayola in the box, but I'd like to think that even a big dumb ox will try to win the game on his own accord, strength, and ability -- not because some invisible sky daddy enabled him to do so AFTER the asking. 3. Even if there was a god, you'd be an idiot to believe that he would have any vested interest and/or involvement in the outcome of a sporting event.  Such prayers would fall upon deaf ears rendering clergy a pointless and useless sideline asset. 4. Someone died, someone's dying, someone's battling a deadly disease, or perhaps even facing financial ruin.  Fine.  Call in Pastor McCreepy.  I can set aside my disdain for human weakness and make my peace with the crutch that the fairytale provides.  But this is a frickin' football game.  Get over yourself. 5. What harm does it do?  If I have to explain it then you're incapable of understanding it.  Think "big picture" and perhaps it will become evident. Post Game Analysis: Father McCreepy...FAIL Reggie Bush.........Super Bowl XLIV (and Kim Kardashian) Sermon 20: A Better Calling Plan An anonymous contributor took this picture at his local Verizon store. The Rational Calling Plan comes with 1200 "anytime" minutes, voicemail, caller ID, unlimited texting, high-bandwidth lucidity, freedom from delusion, and a free car charger!  Lifetime contract required. Can you hear me now? Sermon 19: Ah Piddy Da Foo I shot this picture at my gym the other day.  This guy's a regular and I see him there most days. You probably never heard of the man named Laurence Tureaud (below).  When he worked as a bodyguard his business card read, "Next to God, there is no greater protector than I."  As you can see, his t-shirt now reads, "His Pain Is Your Gain." You know him as Clubber Lang.  You know him as B.A. Baracas.  You know him as Mr. T.  (Yes, that's really him.)  Ah piddy da foo! Sermon 18: iRebbe Revelation has been bestowed upon us from Jackie in Flagstaff: And on the seventh day he texted... mohel4u:  yo shlomo, where u at? rebbe18:  pickin up some shmaltz, kedem grape and a yahrzeit candle mohel4u:  meet me at chabbad at 5:00, need a tenth for minyan rebbe18:  will try to make it but shiksa chozzer at register is draggin her tuchas mohel4u:  lamed alef lamed !!! If none of this makes any sense, ask a Jewish friend to explain or just move along. Sermon 17: Cry Baby Destined to burn, Bastard Michelle in Savannah sends us this desperate cry for help. Maybe if you cry loud enough someone who cares might actually hear you, but until then those cries will fall upon deaf, mythological ears. Sermon 16: God Will Help This picture was taken by Bastard Dan at Costco in Burbank.  He languished in an unreasonably long line on a miserably hot day to save 8 cents on a gallon of gas.  While cursing lazy patrons for taking their time he prayed for some customer service relief.  Dan looked up and over the hood, and through the glare cast upon his windshield he beheld this stunning revelation, courtesy of the insecure bible-puncher ahead of him... In short, no, he won't.  And the license plate won't get you out of a ticket either. Sermon 15: Inked I snagged this picture (below left) at my gym a few weeks ago.  This tattoo was inspired by a painting by Octavio Ocampo (below right).  It's far more impressive in person, but all I had with me was my crappy cell phone camera.   Okay, he wins this round.  It's a cool tattoo and the guy took the time to tell me about the artist, so I'm cutting him some slack.  Deal with it. Sermon 14: Getting Laid This miraculous encounter with public lunacy was captured by Cara in Atlanta.   No, he's not having his blood pressure taken and he's not shooting up crank with an Amish dude.  What you're seeing here is the ancient, superstitious, bullshit practice of laying tefillin.  This orthodox Jewish ritual is too mind-numbingly stupid for me to explain.  Look it up yourself. Orthodox Jews will often approach non/lesser-practicing Jews and offer to show them how to lay tefillin in an attempt to bring them closer to Judaism, and more specifically the orthodoxy.  This fails 100% of the time but it makes them feel better about their delusion.  Watch a video demonstration here. If you're ever approached by one of these guys, accept their offer (even if you're not Jewish).  When they tell you to repeat after them in Hebrew, intentionally mispronounce the words or start singing The Wheels on the Bus.  Fun! Sermon 13: Mental Fitness I spied this morsel of mental stability during my early morning workout.   Our deist Founding Fathers got it right.  Freedom of religion includes freedom from religion, should an individual desire it.  It's called Separation of Church and State. Sound mind, sound body.  Make the weakness go away...without imaginary deities or steroids. Sermon 12: Holy Shit!  International! This divine sighting comes to us from Mladen in Serbia: Well, I took a dump (I was thinking about Jesus and why were all of his apostles male) and after flushing the toilet this is what was left. The moment I saw it, I remembered there was part of your site called Godspotting. Around that time there was only one picture, the one of your sneaker sole, so I thought "Huh, that's weak. And lame. This is the proof the Bastard would believe."  So, there it is. Jesus walking over the water. In my toilet. I thought to convert back to Christianity on the spot (just kidding).   This image is legit.  It was not altered or enhanced in any way.  All I did was crop the picture and zoom in to show the detail.  Click here to see the full image. Sermon 11: Our Daily Dread Bastard Janelle sent this morsel of god from Trader Joe's in Paramus, New Jersey, with a reminder that man shall not live by bread alone.  (That's what peanut butter is for.)  But when you get hankerin' for a really solid loaf, nothing fills you up like a little Ezekiel 4:9. Take thou also unto thee wheat, and barley, and beans, and lentiles, and millet, and fitches, and put them in one vessel, and make thee bread thereof, according to the number of the days that thou shalt lie upon thy side, three hundred and ninety days shalt thou eat thereof. Sermon 10: Beginning Sinning I snagged this cell phone picture during a church service for the baptism of a friend's daughter.  After the holy anointing of the sinful newborn, Pastor McCreepy (disguised below to protect the guilty) proceeded to publicly brainwash young children to ensure their confirmation of lunacy once they reach the age of reason. After reminding these impressionable children that they were born in sin and destined to BURN IN HELL FOR ETERNITY (okay, those are my words, but the message is the same) unless they stayed on the path to Jesus, he proceeded to tell them how. First he showed them a rather crude one-page local area road map (shown above) and pointed out the location of his house and his church.  Then he explained how he uses it to find the way back to his [long pause] "earthly home."  (Yeah, you can see where this is going, eh?) Then he pulled out a book of maps and explained that there are many paths in life and that some maps won't get you [long pause] "all the places you'll eventually need to go."  (Queasy yet?) And finally he pulled out a single 8x11 inch piece of paper with the name JESUS written on it (in big bold letters). You're smart.  I know I don't have to explain the rest of his kiddie sermon. I went home, puked in the sink, and took a long hot shower to remove the stink. Sermon 9: Georgia On My Mindless They love their Braves and Falcons.  They love their pecan rolls and peaches.  They love their Allman Brothers and Ray Charles.  But most of all, they love their Jesus. Take note of the bumper sticker: Make God Smile.  And please do so.  I want to tell him to wipe that stupid smile off his face.  (Photo courtesy of Bastard Michelle in Savannah.) Sermon 8: Holy Rollers  International! These pictures were taken at the U.S. Army Airfield in Wiesbaden, Germany by foreign correspondent G.I. James.    Click the images above to see the holy details. James writes, "I was walking from the parking lot to my office when I noticed this asshat parked a few cars down.  I've seen this monstrosity before, but I never really looked at the wheels.  As ridiculous as $400 rims are on an SUV, this shit makes it even worse.  If you look closely, you'll see some dirt riding up the rear fender.  I doubt that it's from off-roading; we've got a lot of construction going on around the base and it's been a wet summer." Let Jesus be YOUR co-pilot.  Buy these holy rollers here. Sermon 7: A Sticky Situation Delving into the admittedly sophomoric (and childishly funny) taunting of Christians, I ask you to first familiarize yourself with the gift of our Bible Warning Label offering. The day after receiving this gem from a fan of the site I bought some stickers and printed the first batch of 50 in the hope that many great opportunities would soon come along.  I placed a few sheets in my car and the rest in my laptop case. Early one morning just two weeks later I found myself at Starbucks slurping a latte and munching on a reduced-fat blueberry muffin while enjoying a Pat Condell YouTube video.  [Take a moment to visualize me munching a muffin in public at 8:00 in the morning, you sicko.]  And in the door walked another lovely pastry -- a reduced logic Christian muffin -- who took the next seat to my left.  Sipping an Iced Messiah Mochachino through a straw, she commenced with her morning bible study session. Sweet Jesus!  Finally a chance to get some return on my unholy investment. Trying to remain optimistic with my eye on successful label placement, I reached discreetly into my laptop case and peeled off a sticker.  I quickly determined optimal placement to be the tip of my left index finger, so I positioned the precious lode as required and kept it to my side just below the table to my left, hidden from view. Another five or so minutes passed and little Miss Bible departed for the restroom.  Seizing the opportunity, I launched into action...until...the creepy old guy in Swifty Lazar eyeglasses sitting across from me sensed that something foul was afoot.  Crap!  Foiled by the AARP Patrol. But then, as if the hand of Satan reached up from the depths of hell to assist with my most blasphemous plan, a piping hot coffee-related mishap at the far opposite end of the store distracted the old boy along with everyone else.  As all the heads turned toward the noise I launched back into action. I had but a second to respond.  I don't know how the hell I was able to pull it off, but with one quick lunge and swipe (using only one hand), I flipped open the cover and spread the sticker onto the very first page -- just below the title, perfectly level.  The cover closed on its own weight as I withdrew my hand, and I managed to plant my ass back on my seat a split second before anyone turned back to notice. Mission accomplished, perfectly executed.  Amen. Ordinarily I would have placed the label on the outer/front cover but opted out for obvious reasons. The cell phone pictures below chronicle the event.  Sadly, I have no picture of the bible after its defiling.  As it was I had to move quickly and stealthily.  There was no time to snag a photo of my masterpiece.      Click each photo above (left to right) to see the full-size detail. Okay, now it's your turn.  Do it.  Do it now.  The power of Crust compels you! Sermon 6: No One's Home Bastard Jerry sent this early-morning picture of his neighborhood church in front of which the same homeless guy sleeps every single night.  I find it utterly disturbing that this house of god welcomes in all who are happy to fill the donation plate yet won't open its doors after hours to for those who can't.  Where are those good Samaritans now? [Knock-Knock]  No one's home -- literally.  And figuratively. Sermon 5: A Noble Thing This one may look a bit familiar, but it's not the one you've all see before.  (I took it myself at Barnes & Noble.)  Sorry, no originality today.  I just had to steal the idea. I know it borders on a childish prank, but wouldn't it be funny if everyone did this (and left the bible there of course) whenever they passed by a book store?  Come on folks.  What else are you going to do?  Play with yourself for the rest of your life? Sermon 4: Douchebag 4 Christ It's not like this god wank's mandana isn't offensive enough, but he managed to attain maximum douchebaggery by tattooing the word "INTEGRITY" above the belly crucifix.  (Everyone knows those two things are somewhat conflicting to begin with.)  But hey, at least the big grunting roid ape is scoring some seriously fresh meat.  And FYI, the chica on the left?  Totally Jewish.  She's only doing this to get back at daddy. Thanks to Bastard Lena for bringing this most disturbing sign of the Apocalypse to our attention. Sermon 3: Sowing God's Seed So it seems that a kind yet sorely misguided neighbor of mine thinks that subtle hints might nudge me toward salvation through their imaginary sky daddy.  I found the following trinket stuck in the soil of a potted plant that I left outside the other day. I find it ironic that the particular plant they chose was a Dieffenbachia, which is commonly called "Dumb Cane."  If ingested, this plant's poison will swell the mouth and tongue rendering the consumer unable to speak (hence the name dumb, as in "deaf and dumb").  And it's almost always fatal to dogs -- and dog spelled backward is, well, you know.  Perhaps all proselytizing Christians should chow down on some of this stuff. Time began in a garden?  Perhaps it was the Garden of eDumb. Sermon 2: Sole Searching I've always been skeptical of all those strange image sightings of Jesus and Mary that seem to pop up in the most random places.  Whether it was on a grilled cheese sandwich or a dog's hairy ass, I always believed the claim to be a hoax.  Two weeks ago I finally became a believer.  I took this picture (left) with my cell phone camera while using the stomach crunch machine at my gym. Sensing a higher influence, I glanced up to behold this stunning reflection in the wall mirror. Jesus is clearly not pleased with my evil, blasphemous ways and has sent proof of his existence via athletic footwear.  I can't even comprehend a clearer way through which to convey his presence in my life. Given this undeniable divine footwear revelation, the ad men at Nike might now have to change their slogan to, "Just Jew it." Sermon 1: All God's Gifts Are Free If you haven't gotten off your cheap lazy heathen ass to see it yet, you can watch Bill Maher's "Religulous" here for FREE.  And it's 100% legal to view!  (You might have to install Divx Player first, also at no cost.)  Know that I neither condone nor encourage any act of movie piracy (i.e. illegal duplication, distribution, uploading or downloading).  All I'm doing is posting a link to where the movie is being hosted by a third-party site where anyone may view it legally.  Do as you please. Copyright © 2004 The Godless Bastard. All Rights Reserved.