Oh Futher Light and Knowledge, how do I love you.
FLAK has it’s orgins in a political discussion gone truely, spectacularly, howlingly bad after which the board owner closed down the original board (The View from the Foyer) and it was ressurected by the brilliant lights of the DAMU who currently inhabit FLAK. Confusingly, they managed to get the old domain name, so it’s thefoyer.org.
FLAK is not specifically devoted to humor but is filled with witty, erudite and very crude ex-mormons and New Order Mormons. As such there is a great deal of humor that emerges. What caught my eye was this lovely thread about Chad Hardy’s BYU appeal which quickly decends into… alliteration.
H. I. McDonnough
As I opened the door and had a direct view from the entry to her bed, she was in it, nekkid and being furiously fucked by her boss. She was a dental assistant, he was a dentist…and her bishop, married.
Cumom takes it from there
Furiously Fucked by the Father of her Ward
Boisterously Bonked by her Bishop
Energetically Excited by her Episcopate
Powerfully Pounded by the President of the Priest Quorum
Strenuously Screwed by the Sacerdot
Awesomely Awled by the Authority
Joyfully Jackhammered by the Judge in Israel
PseudoMormon takes the pass:
Diligently Drilled by the head Deacon
Prayerfully Poked by the Priest.
Briskly Boned by the Blessed Bishop
KingM adds a few:
Porked by priesthood power
Lasciviously licked by the Lord’s Anointed
Furthermore, FLAK has one of the best threads on Mormon LOLcat’s ever. It’s been going for months. I admit, I’m a lurker on FLAK and this thread actually inspired my own forays into Mormon LOLcats.
This one is my favorite:
A FLAK holiday tradition are the blasphemous and absoloutly gut killing ‘Smithmas Carols’
A personal favorite by SL Slacker
Twas the night before Christmas, in fair Zarahemla
Where two seons of gold won’t fetch half a limnah
Since the buildings all crumbled and smashed to the ground
Over dead, bloody people heaped up in a mound.
The children were strewn over sharp rocky beds
While visions of cureloms danced in their heads
And Mamma with her bleeding and my fractured thigh
Had just settled down to curse God and die.
When out in the rubble arose such a clatter
I strained my head up to see what was the matter
And peered o’er the stones – my eyes flew like a tapir
just stabbed in a battle with an iron-tipped rapier
The sky covered up by black clouds of debris
Hid the frenzied, cold wounded still trying to flee
When what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a pinprick of light growing steadily nearer
From a man clothed in white, his robe open in front
Like a pimp-daddy lounge singer pulling some stunt
When a voice still and small wafted over the snow
That pierced to my soul, “Folks it’s time for the show!
“Come hear Jesus, my son, in whom I’m well pleased
Who helped ravage your cities with death and disease!”
So I looked and saw Him light down from the sky
Landing on top of and crushing some elderly guy.
I stared right into this holy hipster’s breast
Which was shaven as freshly as his chin, legs, and the rest
His eyes, how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
He was fit as a stallion, and smelled of chlorine
From that Heavenly hot tub where he stashed Ann, Meg, and Doreen
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He’d scarcely arrived when he went straight to work
Proclaiming himself emperor, the self-righteous jerk
Then he invited the young and the old not yet dead
To forget their own wounds and check his out instead
Then he quickly got bored and started to rise
Up and lecture us all on how to baptize
He laid out every detail as if I should care
About proper procedures when one missed a few hairs.
Then to prove that he wouldn’t leave us all in a lurch
He took care to expound on the name of his Church.
Then he healed some of the injured who had faith to heal
And suggested they forget dead friends who lacked zeal.
Now laying a finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up to heaven he rose.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he flew out of sight,
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
There are many, many more. DAMUites, bring your intelligent angst to FLAK.