It was only a matter of time. We’ve seen Big Lebowski festivals and convenience stores, so someone basing a religion around it was clearly in the cards. What I did not see coming was the religion being centered in Thailand. Don’t be fatuous, CNN:

Dubbed “Church of the Latter-Day Dude,” the group also invites “mellow, unflashy chicks who hang around in their bathrobes and take baths with candles and whale sounds,” says the religion’s Dudely Lama, Oliver Benjamin.

“Everyone feels oppressed by society’s pressures,” he says.

“Everyone wishes they had more freedom. Everyone wishes they could be more carefree, to worry less about money and status.”

Well, there you go. At this point you’re probably thinking, “Hey, I bet the guy who created a religion based around The Big Lebowski and refers to himself as the ‘Dudely Llama’ definitely isn’t a crackpot.” NOT SO FAST, MY IMAGINARY DULLARD READER! The article is littered with wackadoo quotes by Mr. Benjamin. Meet me after the jump.

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It seems like only yesterday that I was telling you about Kimbra Hickey, the hand model featured on the cover of Twilight, who carries Gala apples around in her purse and hangs out at Barnes and Noble just in case she sees someone reading Twilight and has to demand that they ask for her autograph.  Well now it seems Katie Couric may have found a hand model even crazier.  Enter Ellen Sirot, 40. She fancies herself a famous hand model, and spends the entire interview alternately waving like the Queen of England at a parade, and petting her own hands as if they were newborn kittens. Perfectly normal, perfectly healthy behavior.

“They are really like the most perfect, neutral toned hands.  So the skin is flawless, and it’s a very even tone, so it lights well and it photographs well.  The nails are very healthy. and they just emanate, like, radiate health and good care.

“I’m incredibly protective. I view my hands like elite athletes.  And so everything I do is to protect them from being in any jeopardy or any danger in any way.  So for me that means no cooking, no cleaning, no taking out the garbage, no opening cans, no opening windows, no opening doors, no gardening no sports… My whole life is dedicated to the care and protection of these hands.  [...] These hands have not seen the sunlight in about 15 years.  I wear gloves all day, every day.”

Gosh, what a delight.  What fun she must be at cocktail parties. Though I find it hard to believe that she doesn’t open cans. Her cats must be starving.

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Hey, remember back the late 80s when Victoria Jackson was on SNL, and people were like, “Aw, she’s a kooky, child-like blonde, that’s kind of a fun shtick.”  Fast forward twenty years, and now she’s a 50-year-old woman who wears a pink bow in her hair, and ultra right-wing whack jobs like to poke her with sticks and tell her, “Okay, Victoria, now say Obama is a communist, and try to sound like a drugged-up 7-year-old, people love that.”  Point being, she writes a column for Breitbart.com (presumably translated from crayon), and in it, she recently described walking out of Year One in tears.

It was the scene where the obese homosexual is fortune-telling by looking at the bowels of a sheep that has been sodomized by a person. I told myself this was a PG-13 movie and the writers were “lost” so they didn’t know how vulgar they were being. I asked myself, “Vicki, is this movie making you feel good?”  Myself replied, “This movie is making me angry, very sad, hopeless, and dirty-feeling.”  As the onscreen obese gay man poked at the bloody intestines and told the fifth anal sex joke, I looked at my daughter, and we got up and walked out.  I started crying in the parking lot as we walked to our car.

I had almost the same reaction Anal Sex Nurses 23.  I asked myself, “Vince, is this movie making you feel good?”  And myself replied, “This movie is making me feel good, but also confused, angry, and dirty feeling.  I’m about to come but I can’t stop crying. I worry the two might be related.  What’s wrong with me?”  To which I replied, “You know what’d make you feel better? A cigarette and some ice cream.”  And myself said, “Aw, thanks Vince, this is the best birthday ever.”