The Bible: Fancy Plans Edition Vol. 7

May 4, 2010

A long-delayed welcome back to an old favorite: the Bible. As usual, the sugar-coated teachings of the elders have been undercut with the saucy impertinence of today’s cynical bloggers. While many of you may find this to be “just fine,” rest assured someone, somewhere is busily putting together a chain email, full of grammatical errors and exclamation points, decrying today’s lack of morality and respect.

Before you finish adding the last few bits of ALL CAPS, why don’t you read a bit. And contemplate.

Previous heretical texts stored safely here:
The Bible: Fancy Plans Edition Archives

The crew of "To Catch a Predator" sets the bait.

1And there went a man of the house of Levi, and took to wife a daughter of Levi, much to Levi’s surprise and instant outrage.

2And the woman conceived, less than two months after a hasty wedding, and bare a son: and when she saw him that he was a goodly child, she hid him three months, as his incessant goodliness made dinner conversations awkward. And boring. And don’t even mention the “marital relations.”

3And when she could not longer hide/put up with him, she took for him an ark of bulrushes, and daubed it with slime and with pitch, and put the child therein; and she laid it in the flags by the river’s brink. When Social Services arrived to investigate a “slimy, pitchy baby,” they found themselves stymied by the archaic term “flags” and turned the whole case over to the Sheriff’s office.

4And his sister stood afar off, to wit what would be done to him, because she was nosy. And somewhat barren.

5And the daughter of Pharaoh came down to wash herself at the river; and her maidens walked along by the river’s side, uttering sycophantic nonsense; and when she saw the ark among the flags (whatever the hell they are), she sent her maid to fetch it.

6And when she had opened it, she saw the child: and, behold, the babe wept. So did the pitchy, slimy baby. And she had compassion on him, and said, This is one of the Hebrews’ children, which reminds me, could you maidens run down and make sure they’re still enslaved? Thanks, you’re a dear.

7Then said his sister to Pharaoh’s daughter, Shall I go and call to thee a nurse of the Hebrew women, that she may nurse the child for thee? And Pharoah’s daughter said, shouldn’t you be back in your slave hut or whatever?

8And Pharaoh’s daughter said to her, Go. And try to act more “enslaved.” And the maid went and called the child’s mother.

9And Pharaoh’s daughter said unto her, Take this child away, and nurse it for me, for I am incredibly busy. And spoiled. And I will give thee thy wages. And the woman took the child, and nursed it, saying something under her breath about a “ridiculously circuitous plan.”

10And the child grew, and she brought him unto Pharaoh’s daughter, and he became her son and was tattooed with the Egyptian hieroglyphic for “adopted.” And she called his name Moses: and she said, Because I drew him out of the water. Or rather, my maidens did, but I take the credit around here.

11And it came to pass in those days, when Moses was grown, that he went out unto his brethren, and looked on their burdens: and he spied an Egyptian smiting an Hebrew, one of his brethren, and Moses felt a tag guilty about his general “unsmittenness.” He did, however, begin to feel better about his “adoptedness,” which was pretty much burden-free.

Unfortunately, Moses' privileged life had made his shanking skills a little rusty...

12And he looked this way and that way, and when he saw that there was no man (and only a couple of women whose eyewitness account would be immediately discounted), he slew the Egyptian, just to watch him die, and hid him in the sand.

13And when he went out the second day, behold, two men of the Hebrews strove together (which is not nearly as dirty as it sounds): and he said to him that did the wrong, Wherefore smitest thou thy fellow? And Moses said, What the hell was that? English, motherfucker. Do. You. Speak. It.

14And he said, Who made thee a prince and a judge over us? (Um, the princess did. Duh.) Intendest thou to kill me, as thou killedst the Egyptian? Moses said, well, not originally but you’re starting to pissedst me off. And Moses feared, and said, Surely this thing is known, and regretted handing out the t-shirt emblazoned with “Moses: Kills Egyptians Dead.”

15Now when Pharaoh heard this thing, he sought to slay Moses. With extreme prejudice. [Musical sting.] But Moses fled from the face (and other more damaging parts) of Pharaoh, and dwelt in the land of Midian (Egypt’s “Mexico”): and he sat down by a well, feeling very grateful that he was not in Bruges.

16Now the priest of Midian had seven daughters(!): and they came (!!) and drew water(!!!), and filled the troughs to water their father’s flock. (…)

17And the shepherds came and drove them away in their finest pimpmobiles: but Moses stood up and helped them, and watered their flock. And fertilized their crops. (+4 EXP)

18And when they came to Reuel their father, he said, How is it that ye are come so soon to-day? I was expecting you later. And this thing with the vacuum hose… well… it’s really not what it looks like.

19And they said, An Egyptian delivered us out of the hand of the “shepherds,” and also drew water enough for us, and watered the flock. And fertilized our crops. And rescued a baby calf. (Check gifts.)

20And he said unto his daughters, And where is he? why is it that ye have left the man? seriously, what the hell, women? call him, that he may eat bread. And watch “Egypt’s Top Model.”

As he struggled to contain his nauseousness, Moses pondered Zipporah's fascination with her bag of feces.

21And Moses was content to dwell with the man (seven daughters being a lot of contentment): and he gave Moses Zipporah his daughter, who was well-known for her catchy name and infectious… laugh.

22And she bare him a son, and on the first try, sending her father (he of the “women-only” swimmers) into a spiralling depression, and he called his name Gershom: for he said, I have been a stranger in a strange land.

23And it came to pass in process of time, that the king of Egypt died: and the children of Israel sighed by reason of the bondage, and they cried, and their cry came up unto God by reason of the bondage, which had gone well past what could be considered arousing.

24And God heard their groaning (and bitching), and God remembered his covenant with Abraham, with Isaac, and with Jacob, which apparently was right at the tip of his tongue for the past several generations, but now… NOW YOU REMEMBER IT??!?! WTF???

25And God looked upon the children of Israel, and God had respect unto them and their bondage, and gave them a safety word.



  1. H-O-W-L-I-N-G!!! HBO should turn this into a series (or at a minimum, hire you as a writer)! Tamer, you are the literary equivalent to a fine 7-course dining experience:

    Picture seated in a dark paneled room with an ornate neo-classical accent wall, dimly back-lit with wall-mounted Louis XVI bronze torch sconces, rich mahogany furnishings, gilt embellishment galore, and an attentive wait-staff at the ready to discreetly ‘fan’ (made of bone, silk and French of course) the air in the opposing direction of your dinner date if you so much as fart or belch. On the menu are Maine diver scallops served with seared foie gras, Jerusalem artichokes, Meyer lemon and quince (because you won’t eat foie gras on humanitarian grounds, the chef suggests a substitute of [vegan] faux foie gras). You finish up with single-origin Venezuelan chocolate mousse, passion fruit with a dreamy balsamic reduction and Mascarpone sorbet. When you walk out of said dining establishment, not only is the needle bulging past 100 on your satiety scale, you are radiating. Actually, you are GLOWING. Supreme satisfaction reigns. Your night out encompassed more than a dinner and lively conversation…it was…an EXPERIENCE. I get all of this from merely sitting at my computer and reading your hilarious Biblical interpretations (and no one is the wiser if I belch or fart).

    In the words of Archie Bunker referencing religion: “It ain’t supposed to make sense; it’s faith. Faith is something that you believe that nobody in his right mind would believe.”

    • Wow, e3h! Thanks!

      I’ve never been equated with fine dining before. Usually the comparison is to that restaurant that’s good when you’re drunk because it’s “still open.”

      The waitstaff is more than a little tired, and quite often, more than a little rude. But they all smoke and swear casually and don’t really mind if you stuck your tip in an upside-down glass of water because they haven’t washed a glass since 1983 and you’ve been drinking out of it for the last 45 minutes.

      You know, that kind of place. Where anyone can say anything and probably will.

      Thanks again for the deliriously positive comment, e3h. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten anything you’ve listed there, but I’m still flattered.

  2. First of all I gotta say, I freaking love the idea of Samuel L Jackson doing Moses in full Jules Winnfield. Its ideas like this that’ll bring a whole new generation of Christians to the mega churches.

    Now you’ve also given me an idea for a Christian t-shirt line that we could make a killing off of. Given both of our internet personas though we’ll need a front man, or woman; maybe B? Either way it couldn’t be us.

    So I was thinking we could design them like the MMA shirts that all the nerdy, pussy kids are wearing these days in an effort to look cool/avoid getting beat up. Think about it….

    • Scott –

      As usual you’re on to something. If there’s one thing this world needs, it’s more clever T-shirts. But this will be different! This time it’s us, instead of those bastards Ralph Abercrombie and Delbert Fitch!

      We’ll rule the world! Via Cafepress!


      I can totally see it. Let’s get B to front our new idea (which was mostly yours) and finance it (with money that’s mostly hers).

      Thanks for the hellacious comment, Scott. Great to see you.

  3. Seeing as I failed Sunday School (twice!) and still have yet to reach Chapter 2 in the Bible (the chapter where I’m told all the good stuff starts happening), I won’t even bother trying to add any witty commentary.

    Instead, I will just copy and paste some of the commentary that was pre-witted, by none other than yours truly (aka. you).

    “…And there went a man of the house of Levi, and took to wife a daughter of Levi, much to Levi’s surprise and instant outrage.”

    “…because she was nosy. And somewhat barren.”

    “This is one of the Hebrews’ children, which reminds me, could you maidens run down and make sure they’re still enslaved? Thanks, you’re a dear”

    And last but not least, numbers 7 through 20 inclusive.

    ps. FYI, “pissedst” is my new…well, you know.

    • Bschooled –

      There’s no shame in failing Sunday school (twice). There was really nothing in for the kids, other than different varieties of shame, demonstrated by an overbearing adult with a felt board.

      Thanks for the call-and-response comment. I’m especially proud of the work I did on numbers 7-20. Those will be the numbers that stand the test of time.

      Maybe I should do a chapter from Numbers. It’s by far the most boring book of the Bible, filled with “begats.” It’s like a family tree crossed with a slide show, narrated by the time-and-date person.

      Enjoy “pissedst.” Nothing says “safe” like an enormous amount of consonants.

  4. […] F. Lion Tamer: The Bible: Fancy Plans Edition Volume 7 and I Survived: True Stories of Human Survival Vol. […]

  5. This is very enjoyable to read. Have you done Jezebel yet?

    • I tried to, but she wasn’t putting out.

      (Scratch that. Let’s try that again…)

      I haven’t yet but only because Nick Denton is such a litigious bitch.

      (One more time…)

      Thanks for the compliment and tip, sdaedalus. Jezebel needs to be taken down a few notches and I think I’ve got the f-bombs to do it.

  6. Jezebel needs to be taken down a few notches and I think I’ve got the f-bombs to do it.

    I’m sure you do. Make sure you don’t forget to deal with the bit where the dogs ate everything but the palms of her hands and soles of her feet. I really enjoyed reading this bit as a kid.

  7. Why can’t you love Jesus the way my grandmother does or, if you’d rather, why can’t you love my grandma the way Jesus, (Hey Zeus) does?

    • I could do both, but I think that would make Grandma/Jesus/Hey Zeus jealous. I’m only one man.

  8. One talented man; don’t sell yourself so short… whonkz!

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