One night I had a wondrous dream,
One set of footprints there was seen,
The footprints of the Goddess they were,
But mine were not along the shore.
But then some stranger prints appeared,
and I asked Her, "What have we here?
These prints are large and round and neat,
But much too big to be from feet."
"My child," She said in somber tones,
"For miles I carried you alone.
I challenged you to walk in faith,
But you refused and made me wait."
"You would not learn, you would not grow,
The walk of faith, you would not know,
So I got tired, I got fed up,
And there I dropped you on your butt.
"Because in life, there comes a time
When one must fight, and one must climb,
When one must rise and take a stand,
Or leave their butt prints in the sand."
Sned's Law: Whenever two or more Pagans get together, they will end up talking about Christianity or the Bible, as they are the only things which they can agree on.
If it's cold enough to freeze water, it's cold enough to freeze Pagans.
The only way anything is going to stop me from eating this would be if the goddess came down and specifically told me not too. And even in that case, I'd try to stuff it into my mouth before she finished her sentence.
I'm an Orthodox Discordian.
Everyone must build an altar for the Starfish Mo, Wiccan god of echinoderms.
Ask 10 Wiccans (or Pagans) what they believe, and you'll get 13 answers.
Always make sure that you have at least one colander.
When the IMU (Iowa Memorial Union) screws up and books two rooms for you, you have two meetings.
When in doubt, read anti-Pagan propaganda and do the opposite of what it says Pagans do.
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