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    Gender Identity and the Invisible Pasta God
    Gender Identity and the Invisible Pasta God
    Gender Identity and the Invisible Pasta God
    Ebook59 pages56 minutes

    Gender Identity and the Invisible Pasta God

    By Stephen Measure

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    About this ebook

    Kale, a wannabe pickup artist, attends a Pastafarian meetup to mock the religious and hopefully hook up with his sufficiently-hot co-worker Jezzie. But when a peg-legged Pastafarian minister shows up in pirate garb and leads them all to the school board meeting next door where a debate about bathroom policies is underway, it becomes obvious that those who arrogantly claim to be non-religious actually have a religion after all.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherStephen Measure
    Release dateAug 22, 2018
    ISBN9781940778365
    Gender Identity and the Invisible Pasta God
    Author

    Stephen Measure

    Stephen Measure is an author of social and political satire, both humorous and dark.

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      Book preview

      Gender Identity and the Invisible Pasta God - Stephen Measure

      Gender Identity

      and the

      Invisible Pasta God

      STEPHEN MEASURE

      Silver Layer Publications

      Copyright © 2018 by Stephen Measure

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

      This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, organizations, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or organizations is entirely coincidental.

      silverlayer.com

      Silver Layer Publications

      P.O. Box 1047

      Chino Valley, AZ 86323

      Updates:

      September 2018: New cover

      Kale was a twenty-year-old virgin and that was just freaking unacceptable. Oh, it’s not that he hadn’t tried. You have no idea how hard he’d tried, the dozens of first dates in high school: dinners, movies, dances. And how many second dates had that translated into? Less than you could count on one hand. And how many third dates? A big fat zero. Kale had been friend-zoned more times than he could count, been like a brother to half the girls in his graduating class, and altogether been the most non-nice guy to have ever been afflicted with the nice guy curse.

      Now Kale was in his second gap year between high school and college, adrift, no aspirations in his life, nothing going for him except a bi-weekly paycheck from Infinite Word Worlds, the only remaining bookstore in his town, where he worked the day shift. He spent the night shift alone, assuaging his loneliness through pixels on his computer monitor. Sunrise followed by sunset. Rinse and repeat.

      But no more. Last night, Kale had discovered inspiration. Last night, Kale had had a revelation. Not a boring, stuffy revelation you might hear about from your ninety-seven-year-old Sunday School teacher. Not a vision, not a voice, not a bright light, a burning bush, or a talking donkey. No, Kale’s revelation had come from that most accurate of sources: the Internet. There he had been, just like every other night, jumping from site to site, as was his habit, demonstrating his manhood to himself through the sheer variety of bodies he might objectify, when he had discovered that which would turn his life around, give him purpose, and translate the digital ones and zeros he fixated on into real flesh and blood objects he could use and leisurely discard. Praise be, Kale had discovered a pickup artist message forum.

      These were giants among men, Michelangelos who nightly crafted masterpieces of personal pleasure out of willing canvases of makeup, hairspray, and low self-esteem. The notches on these men’s bedposts were legendary: dozens … hundreds. It was awe inspiring. Did a single night go by when these men among men were not bagging a new conquest? Was there a woman alive who was immune to their charisma and their carefully choreographed playbook that was guaranteed to transform ice queens into raging volcanoes? Kale didn’t think so, and the thought made his palms sweat.

      Could he really be like them? Could he exude testosterone like some bathroom dispenser of male musk? Could he follow in the footsteps of such heroes of the pickup artist message forum like AlphaAlphaInfinity, LadySlayerX304, or NeggingMasterW? They claimed he could! To think that a beta male like him could reach such heights of alphaness, it was wonderful. And the steps were all right there on the Internet! All explained through message post after message post, or available as downloadable lectures for the low cost of three of his paychecks.

      The pickup artists had byzantine levels of seduction. If a woman was here, then you should do this to raise her to the next level. If that didn’t work, then try this. It was all very complicated, and in truth it was a little too much for Kale to understand, especially after only one night of study. But he did remember a few key points.

      The first was negging. The idea was simple: you insult a woman until her self-esteem is so battered and broken that she’ll be willing to have sex with you. Some pickup artists like NeggingMasterW seemed to have raised it to an art form. He had once negged the valedictorian of an Ivy League college on graduation night, only hours after her valedictory speech. The evening had started with her riding high on confidence, being honored in front of hundreds of people, and had ended with NeggingMasterW riding her, the valedictorian

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