The First Church of Bob: A Flerken Faith

09/01/2026

THE CHURCH OF BOB: SEPTEMBER 1ST PROCLAMATION

September first is not only the beginning of spooky season but it’s also Ginger Pumpkin Goblin Day!

Congregation, the pumpkins are out, the skeletons are up, and somehow the orange cats have been given a holiday.
This seems irresponsible.

Ginger cats do not need a confidence boost. They wake up every morning with the confidence of Johnny Knoxville staring directly into a camera and saying, “Hi, I’m Johnny Knoxville, and this is Jackass.”
Except nobody is filming.
There’s no stunt coordinator.
Steve O isn’t coming.
And today’s stunt is apparently, “Can I jump from the refrigerator to the ceiling fan?”
No. No, you cannot.
He does it anyway.
Five seconds later there’s a crash, somebody is yelling, the shower curtain is down, a houseplant has been legally declared dead, and the ginger cat is sitting in the middle of the wreckage licking his bu****le like he wasn’t involved.
Then he hears a moth.
Round two.
“Hi, I’m Cheddar, and this is Jackass.”

Ginger Cat Appreciation Day means we must formally recognize the pumpkin colored goblins who spend the other 364 days committing crimes against furniture, gravity, houseplants and basic common sense.
Bob is thrilled. Bob is also concerned.

Science tells us all ginger cats share one brain cell. Bob attempted to locate it for today’s ceremony.
It is currently unavailable.
Somewhere in Des Moines, a ginger cat is licking a lampshade.
Nobody knows why.
He doesn’t know why.
God doesn’t know why.
The lampshade certainly didn’t consent to any of this.
This is the wisdom of the orange cat. Bob respects it. Bob does not understand it. Although, Bob suspects witchcraft.
Which explains why ginger cats belong to spooky season.

Black cats look like they know ancient secrets.
Ginger cats look like they accidentally summoned an ancient secret and are now trying to eat it.
A black cat may be a witch’s familiar.
A ginger cat is the reason that witch lost her security deposit.
And we love them…Every magnificent, affectionate, loud, hungry, confused little fluffy pumpkin demon among them.

So give your Ginger Pumpkin Goblin a treat. Scratch the empty little head. Tell him he’s handsome. Tell her she’s a pretty kitty.
Then move anything breakable away from the edge of the counter.
He has plans.

Meanwhile, Karen says September first is too early for Halloween.
Bob put a decorative skeleton in her passenger seat.
His name is Gary.
Gary lives there now.

Kevin decorated his porch with approximately nine pounds of fake spiderweb and now his house looks like Shelob refinanced it.
His stupid Chihuahua is wearing a pumpkin costume with little leaves around the neck.
He looks like an angry Mr potato head with toothpick legs.
For the first time in Church history, Bob supports something Kevin has done.

So congregation, bring forth your Ginger Pumpkin Goblins.
Post their pictures in the comments and tell us their names and a little about them.

Be advised that submitting your cat grants Bob the completely imaginary authority to investigate their background.

Your sweet little Chester may actually be Cornelius “Ham Sandwich” McGillicuddy, former riverboat captain, banned from three PetSmarts and wanted in Iowa for stealing a rotisserie chicken from a moving vehicle.
Bob does not create these criminal records.
Bob merely discovers them.

Happy Ginger Pumpkin Goblin Day.
Happy spooky season.
Release the pumpkins.
Deploy the skeletons.
Respect the black cats.
Appreciate the orange ones.

And if your ginger cat suddenly freezes and stares at something directly behind you that you cannot see…
Do not turn around.
It’s spooky season now.
Whatever is back there is between Bob and God.

All hail Bob!
All hail the orange idiots!
Mrrrrp!

08/27/2026

The Church of Bob has lowered the flag to half mast.
And by “flag,” we mean the Jolly Roger.
And by “half mast,” we mean Bob knocked it over while trying to climb the rigging.

But today, even Bob the Flerken is quiet. Tim Curry has passed away at 80.
And this one hurts.
Because before some of you knew him as Pennywise, before others knew him as Dr. FrankNFurter, Wadsworth, Darkness, Rooster, or that magnificently irritated hotel concierge dealing with Kevin McCallister…

The man was a pirate. Not metaphorically. Tim Curry actually played the Pirate King in The Pirates of Penzance.
Because apparently the universe looked at Tim Curry and said:
“Give that man thigh high boots, an open shirt, a sword, and command of a pirate crew.”
And Tim Curry said: “Obviously.”
Then, years later, he became Long John Silver in Muppet Treasure Island and delivered what Bob considers one of the finest depictions of professional piracy ever committed to film.
The man stood on a ship surrounded by Muppets and somehow managed to be the most gloriously theatrical creature in the room. Do you understand how difficult that is? He sang about being a professional pirate.
He swaggered.
He schemed.
He chewed scenery like the scenery owed him money.
And somehow beneath all that magnificent villainy, he gave Long John Silver a heart.

That was Tim Curry.

He could be terrifying, ridiculous, elegant, sinister, hilarious, heartbreaking, and completely unforgettable…sometimes within the same five minutes. He made weird people feel like maybe being weird wasn’t something that needed fixing.
He showed generations of theater kids, goth kids, horror fans, misfits, musicians, pirates, and assorted creatures lurking around the edges of polite society that you could walk into a room completely committed to who you were and own the damn room.
Bob respects this philosophy immensely.
Bob has never entered a room quietly in his life.
So tonight aboard The Mary Ellen Carter, the lanterns burn a little lower.
The crew has raised a glass.
Captain Stellamara has ordered the black flag flown.
Jonah the Witness is standing solemnly on deck.
And Bob is sitting at the bow staring toward the horizon, pretending he absolutely does not have feelings because Flerkens are apex interdimensional predators, and apex interdimensional predators do not cry. His eyes are merely leaking seawater.

Somewhere beyond that horizon, I like to imagine a ship just appeared through the fog.
A familiar figure stepped aboard.
The crew asked: “Who goes there?”
And that unmistakable voice answered: “The Pirate King.”

Welcome aboard, sir.
May the seas be calm, the treasure plentiful, the costumes outrageous, and wherever you’ve sailed off to, may there be a spotlight waiting for you.

Because Tim Curry never merely entered a scene. Tim Curry arrived.

Fair winds and following seas, Pirate King.

From Bob the Flerken, the Ghost Pirates of The Mary Ellen Carter, and every magnificent weirdo you helped convince to keep being magnificent, thank you for the strange journey.

And somehow, there is one final Tim Curry moment that feels different today.
Dr. FrankNFurter, standing alone on that stage in The Rocky Horror Picture Show, stripped of all the outrageous bravado and spectacle, singing I’m Going Home.
For a man whose career was filled with larger than life characters, that performance was strangely vulnerable and heartbreakingly human.

So perhaps there is no better way for Bob and the crew to say goodbye.
The curtain is falling.
The ship is waiting.
The Pirate King has one last voyage to make.
And somewhere beyond the fog, the lights are coming up.
Tim Curry…I’m Going Home.

Fair winds, sir.

You’re going home.

08/26/2026

A SERMON FROM HIS HOLY FUZZINESS, BOB THE FLERKEN

Rum Runners, gather around.
Today, we must discuss a woman Bob considers to be one of the few humans who appears to have understood the basic requirements of existence: Big hair. Big heart. Sequins. Music. Animals. And PIRATES! Yes, Dolly Parton.

Now some of you may be saying, “Bob, Dolly Parton wasn’t a pirate.”
WRONG!!! Dolly helped create Pirates Voyage Dinner & Show, a full-blown pirate dinner attraction featuring enormous pirate ships, an indoor lagoon, acrobatics, mermaids, music and enough swashbuckling nonsense to make Captain Stellamara stare silently into the distance wondering why The Mary Ellen Carter does not have this kind of production budget. Dolly even helped write music for the show and appeared as a mermaid.
Therefore, by decree of His Holy Fuzziness:
DOLLY PARTON IS AN HONORARY PIRATE.

But then Bob discovered something else.
DOLLY SUPPORTS ANIMAL RESCUE!!!
In 2022, Dolly launched her Doggy Parton pet line and designated a portion of the proceeds to Willa B. Farms Animal Rescue in Tennessee, an organization that helps displaced animals of all kinds.

Bob stared silently at this information for several minutes.
“She has pirates. She has rhinestones. She helps rescue animals.”

Jonah the Witness slowly opened the Sacred Book. “Your Holiness…I believe we have found the Patron Saint of Bob.”

Because underneath all the rhinestones, enormous hair and general appearance of someone who defeated gravity through sheer force of personality, Dolly has always represented something Bob actually takes seriously, and that is kindness. She came from very little and spent her life giving a whole lot back. She built things. She created things. She helped people. She helped animals. She made people laugh. She wrote songs that somehow make grown adults stare out a car window like they’re starring in the saddest music video ever made. And she never seemed to forget where she came from.

Bob respects this.
Bob also respects any woman who can write Jolene, build an entertainment empire, put pirates in a giant indoor lagoon, help rescue animals and still somehow look like she just emerged victorious from a rhinestone explosion at eight o’clock in the morning. That is power. That is leadership.

Jonah the Witness has therefore entered Dolly Parton into the Sacred Records of the Church of Bob as:
DOLLY PARTON
Patron Saint of Big Hair, Bigger Hearts, Rhinestones, Rescue Animals and Questionably Acquired Pirate Treasure.

So raise a glass, Rum Runners, to Dolly Parton! May we all leave this world having created a little more music, a little more laughter, a little more kindness and a little more love than there was when we arrived. And if somewhere along the way we also acquire a pirate ship, several mermaids, a herd of rescue animals and a giant indoor lagoon? Even better.

Bob has spoken.

Praise Dolly and may she rest in peace. Until we meet again, lovely human soul. Safe journey to fiddler’s green and that big ghost ship in the sky.

08/24/2026

ATTENTION FOLLOWERS OF THE BOB ALL MIGHTY!!!
We are requesting to see photos of your cats!!!!

All Hail BOB!!!
Mrrrp!!!

08/24/2026

08/21/2026

THE CHURCH OF BOB PRESENTS: AN IMPORTANT HISTORICAL DOCUMENT.

Historians claim this ancient artwork depicts a great warrior preparing to conquer Mongolia……Wrong.
This is the earliest known documentation of a human being trying to get his fu***ng cat to go take a s**t before leaving for work.

The Mongol army is assembled.
The horses are saddled.
Thousands of warriors await the command to ride.
Entire civilizations are about to fall! …..But none of that matters because Bob has been pacing around the house screaming for 45 minutes, and the second somebody opened the door he suddenly decided he had nowhere in particular to be. This warrior had to halt a military take over because his kitty had to take a s**tty.

“Come on, Bob.” ….Bob sniffs a rock. ….“Bob. We have to conquer Mongolia.” ….Bob eats some grass.
“BOB. PLEASE JUST SH*T!!!!!!” Bob sits down.
The invasion has been delayed … indefinitely. Jonah the Witness has declared this The First Sacred Poopening and claims Bob’s eventual turd marked the exact location where the Church would be founded 800 years later.

And you ask where Kevin and Karen are in all of this…. Well…
Karen has already filed a complaint because nobody brought a p**p bag. Kevin was thankfully absent from this particular chapter of history because Chihuahuas had not been invented yet.

This was widely regarded as humanity’s golden age. Eventually Bob took a s**t. Mongolia was conquered. History was made.

And somewhere, somehow, Bob immediately wanted to go back outside again five fu***ng minutes later.

ALL HAIL BOB.

08/20/2026

Vote for The Mary Ellen Carter

Vote for works performed and exhibited between Sept. 1 and Aug. 31.

08/19/2026

CHURCH OF BOB: NEW CREATURE JUST DROPPED.

BEHOLD!!! DINGUS KHAN!
Also known by his government name, Gizmo.

He has arrived before the congregation looking like someone just told him there are zero treats left in the house and he would like to speak directly to their caregiver’s mom. Do not be deceived by the enormous Disney eyes. This is an orange cat. There are no thoughts behind those eyes. There is, however, ONE communal orange-cat brain cell, and Dingus Khan currently has it reserved for Thursday between 2:15 and 2:17 PM.

Bob has reviewed the photograph and issued the following official Church assessment:
“ORANGE.”

Jonah the Witness immediately fell to his knees, “MY LORD… IS THIS ANOTHER FLERKEN?”
Bob slapped him.Not because Jonah was wrong. Because Bob just wanted to slap someone.

Dingus Khan has since been appointed Supreme Warlord of Blankets, First of His Name, Conqueror of Absolutely Nothing, Keeper of the Forbidden Brain Cell, and Assistant Regional Flerken.

His qualifications include:
Orange, Long arms, Concerned face, Probably screams for no reason, Has never paid taxes, Looks like he would knock a glass off the counter and then become frightened by the noise, and May or may not know where he is

Bob approves.
The Church approves.
The brain cell remains unavailable.

ALL HAIL DINGUS KHAN!
May his reign be orange, his bowl be full, and his thoughts be few.

Praise Bob! Mrrrp!!!!
…………………………………………….,,
DO YOU WISH YOUR CAT TO BE JUDGED BY THE CHURCH OF BOB?

If you would like your cat featured in a future Church of Bob post, submit a photo along with a brief description of your cat.

Tell us their name, personality, crimes, hobbies, questionable habits, and anything else you believe the Church should know.

DISCLAIMER:
The Church of Bob reserves the right to completely disregard your narrative.
We may embellish it.
We may misunderstand it.
We may uncover lore you were previously unaware of.
We may assign your cat a government position, criminal enterprise, religious title, maritime rank, or deeply unfortunate nickname.
We may not even stick to your cat’s actual name.

By submitting your feline to the Church, you acknowledge that whatever Bob decides becomes canon.
Submit accordingly.

Praise Bob. Mrrrp!

08/14/2026

Fellow FLERKENITES! Jonah has arrived and he is preaching the good mews about Bob!
All hail Bob!!!!

Mrrrp…