Hey, Phelps, you mofo!

So after dosing myself with analgesics and finding the right pillow to put behind me on my desk chair, I finally got into a nice writing groove. In fact, I think physical pain helps deepen a story, as long as the author can keep it from interfering with her/his keyboarding skills.

After a fairly productive day, off I went in search of a brief diversion, because my life's been sorely lacking in amusement over the past week. What led to my chuckles, in a roundabout way, was a message delivered via the wonderful members of the Westboro Baptist Church in Topeka, Kansas and their eloquently perspicacious pastor, Fred Phelps. See it there, on the right? I swear, these warm-hearted folks put the "Christ" back in "Christian."

After catching up with news on the equal-opportunity-haters front (because WBC also foments loathing of Jews, Blacks, and the entire United States of America, for being the melting pot it is), I followed some links and came upon an even more inspiring website.

Look what it let me do!

Click on the post title to do some sign-making of your own. It's very therapeutic.