mental_floss magazine
SUBSCRIBE >
GIFT SUBSCRIPTIONS >
DIGITAL SUBSCRIPTIONS >
subscriber services >
[We’ll start the judging at 8am Eastern Time Friday morning. Get in those last-minute entries overnight.]
Last month, the fine folks at Quirk sent us a copy of Thomas J. Craughwell’s This Saint’s For You! 300 Heavenly Allies for Architects, Athletes, Brides, Bachelors, Babies, Librarians, Murderers, Whales, Widows, and You. After being assured holding this giveaway didn’t mean parting with my copy, Mangesh and I came up with these contest rules:
1) Declare Yourself a Saint. Tell us in the comments about the obscure area over which you’ll preside and hover. The more obscure – and the more funny – the better. But remember, patron saints already exist for all sorts of random topics, including advertising professionals, beekeepers, lost objects, poets, rabbits, riots, makers of playing cards, the falsely accused, and the physically unattractive.
2) We’ll pick our favorite on Thursday and send you the book. Two runners-up will get free mental_floss t-shirts. It’s that easy. Well, winning the book is that easy. Recognition as an official patron saint may require additional paperwork.
Here’s a little more about information, excerpted from the back cover:
“This Saint’s for You! describes the real-life histories of more than 300 saints and explains how they have become associated with certain people, places, and professions. Also included are images of 300 gorgeous full-color holy cards that depict these heavenly allies in all their glory. Whether you’re a flight attendant or a stenographer (or an ice skater or a motorcyclist or a Girl Scout…), we guarantee these saints will save your life!”
Let your campaigns for sainthood begin.
I am St. Jill, the patron saint of special events. I will be with you when you plan a wedding, host a party or, as all good recreation coordinators know, plan a tea party for 50 little girls and their doting, over-indulgent parents. With my help, you will never forget paper plates, always remember to sit Mrs. Jones as far away as possible from Mrs. Smith, and will be granted good weather when you are expecting 1,000 people to attend your Arts & Crafts festival in mid-June. Amen.
posted by Jill Korsok on 12-9-2007 at 10:33 am
I am St. Lori, patron saint of lines at the supermarket that appear to be short, but then, because you have chosen to stand in them, slow to a halt over a questionable coupon or the correct code for zucchini. Instead of granting you patience, I will probably cause you to be charged twice for something that never ends up in your grocery bag. Yeah, I know I won’t be popular. Deal with it. Um…amen.
posted by Lori L. on 12-9-2007 at 11:14 am
Greetings from St.Marcia, Patron Saint of Loser Magnets. Don’t have a job? Holla at your girl. Live in mom’s basement? Come up in my grill and bug me all night. Explain how it’s o.k. that she still does your laundry, too, because “she’s down there doing hers anyway.” I am here to lead the way from my sad yet vast experience attracting losers.
posted by Marcia on 12-9-2007 at 11:17 am
I am St. Liz, patron saint of cat ladies. I will be there to grant you the strength to lift large flats of cat food and litter at the pet store. Through your faith in me, I will grant patience when your cats hover and cry as soon as your head hits the pillow. You will always remember your cat’s birthdays when it comes time to throw a party if you keep me in your heart. Most importantly, I will never leave your side, even when your date has run screaming after you told him just how many cats you have. Amen.
posted by Liz on 12-9-2007 at 11:34 am
I would like to be re-christened as St. Billy Bob, the patron of fauna that is growing in ruined cars that are parked in the front yards of the underclass everywhere. I feel that these modern flower beds are vastly misunderstood. I also realize that the first sentence is a mouthful, so I have a catchy name for my patronage. St. Billy Bob, the patron Saint of Jalopy Horticulture.
posted by Nathan on 12-9-2007 at 11:37 am
I am St. Swiffrieda, patron saint of non-dusters.
Years ago the mystery of non-dusting was revealed to me by a wise man who had spent years accumulating the wisdom as well as the necessary dust to test it. He revealed that dust never gets more than one quarter inch thick before it collapses in on itself. With proper meditation techniques and practice one can learn to ignore this slight buildup and free oneself not only of the onus of dusting but also the hatred of dust. A bonus is the revelation that dust is a security and privacy asset. It reveals whether your worldly goods have been messed with or taken. Even the most highly trained practitioner of the Eastern arts cannot re-settle dust so it looks undisturbed.
Pray to me that your unenlightened neatnik friends stay off your case.
posted by Alice on 12-9-2007 at 11:46 am
I am St. Ryan, patron saint of drunkards. Pray to me when choosing your poison for the night, (or day), in hopes that it may guide you to complete happiness. Pray to me when cracking open that beer, pouring that shot, or mixing that drink, that you may achieve your goals for the night. Pray to me, when you reach that euphoric high, that you will be the life of the party, and you will bring positive attention about yourself and that someone special will notice. Pray to me, that you dont mess this up. And remember, when you are worshipping the porcelain god the next morning, DO NOT curse me!
posted by ryan on 12-9-2007 at 11:51 am
I St. Joshibus, Patron Saint of All Things Flatulent, hereby force my silent but deadly presence upon you. I watch over all those weird uncles whose pleas for pulled fingers so often go unheeded. For all those purveyors of chili-dogs and Mexican cuisine, fear not for you have a guardian! To every father who has ever felt the need to blame the nearest canine, I bring hope! Blessed are the cheese cutters who have smelt it and especially those who have blessedly dealt it, for they shall inherit an empty room! And for those who deny it: be not ashamed that you supplied it.
May the Lord bless you and excuse you, pardon and deliver you from all Beano and potential retaliation from offended bystanders, and bring you to everlasting gassiness (without painful consequences) this day and forever more. Amen.
posted by Josh on 12-9-2007 at 11:53 am
I am Sandy, the patron saint of tolerant roommates. If you, like me, have a dreadful roommate that stays up all night listening to country music, sleeps all day and gets huffy when you try to turn on the lights to study for your upcoming organic chemistry final (aaagggh!), and routinely comes back to the room at 3 in the morning in a state of extreme intoxication and vomits all over your bathroom leaving you to clean it up, then I will watch over you and make sure that you make it to the end of the lease without initiating World War III.
posted by Sandy on 12-9-2007 at 11:56 am
I am St. Shakabuku Hyde, Patron Saint (and Bodhisattva) of Two-Fisted Enlightenment. Because sometimes, people just need some sense knocked into them.
posted by Berin Kinsman on 12-9-2007 at 12:04 pm
I am Jonathan, patron saint of patron saints. Do you live life wholly good? Do you help others at any measure? Do you, however, feel as though you’re missing something? Jesus is a busy man, that’s the reason he needs patrons saints for assistance. But who will watch over these faithful helpers?
Just interested in the field and looking for more information? Are you unsure of what patron saint you’d like to be? Come in for an interview. O seasoned veteran, has your path become blurred? Do you need a little advice in a tight squeeze? Well, I’m your saint, your patron saint, your patron saint of patron saints.
posted by Jonathan on 12-9-2007 at 12:21 pm
Hello to all. I am St. Susan, Patron Saint of Customer Service. Every time you phone your phone company, bank, or car loan company, I am with you. When you have been on hold 30 minutes and have been told that you are the next caller 45 times, I am with you. When the automated voice appreciates your patience 65 times, I am still with you. And when you finally think you are getting a live operator after an hour, but you are disconnected, and when you call back the message states they are on Yakutsk (YAKT) time and are closed, I am still with you.
Pray to me and I bring to you patience and understanding so that you will know that YOU WILL finally get through to someone only to find he/she has limited knowledge of English. Peace be with you. Amen.
posted by Susan on 12-9-2007 at 12:26 pm
St. Lisa here. Patron saint of the normal people that show up at diner’s at three in the morning. One prayer to me and I’ll have your back against all those weirdos and freaks that you and I both know you want nothing to do with.
posted by Lisa on 12-9-2007 at 12:44 pm
Hello, I am Saint Augustus, Patron of people who take their cats backpacking. I have no authority over car camping. As no one, to my knowledge, takes a cat camping I won’t have much to do. This also makes ma the defacto Patron of laziness.
posted by gus on 12-9-2007 at 1:30 pm
I am Saint Nathan, the patron saint of atheists. Probably the worst sainting gig since the people I help don’t want or care for my help. They would even swear I don’t exist. Jerks.
posted by Nathan on 12-9-2007 at 1:40 pm
I am Saint Jamie, the patron saint of law librarians. That elusive case on point that your attorney needs will be found, during regular business hours, by a law librarian who has prayed to me. Few law librarians pray to me, so you must ask your attorney to speak with her/his law librarian to make sure I am prayed to so your case will be won.
posted by Jamie on 12-9-2007 at 1:57 pm
Blessings to all of you!
I am St. Ellis, the patron saint of Hugo Chavez, Fidel Castro, Bin Ladden and George Bush. It seems kind of an odd and reduced patronage, but my sole mission is to keep these 4 from hindering the well being of the rest of the earth´s population. If you think I am not doing a good job, imagine how it would be if they were left without a patron saint :-)
posted by Ellis on 12-9-2007 at 2:07 pm
I am Ryan Patron Saint of Beer Pong, or Beruit if you’re on the west coast. Pray to me when you wish to avoid a white wash, or pray to me when you are trying to white wash your opponent, so they may be forced to make a sacrifice to me for my amusement. pray to me if you wish to make a bounce for two cups. Regardless if you use the high arc, or the line drive throw, i am your saint, pray to me and we will all in in the game of Beer Pong.
posted by Ryan Kapsar on 12-9-2007 at 2:09 pm
I am Saint Betsy, the patron saint of the not quite good enough. I protect those people who are always one step behind the winners. If you constantly place second, had a 3.95 GPA, or made it to the last cut of that awesome job before being cut, then I am the saint for you. Odds are that praying to me won’t improve anything though, as I am only a second-rate saint myself.
posted by betsy on 12-9-2007 at 2:20 pm
St. Heather here, patron saint offering protection against refrigerator mold. Pray to me when your carton of fresh strawberries goes bad a mere 24 hours after purchase. Due to a bureaucratic error in Heaven’s Department of Saints and Saintly Acts, however, I can only help in the fight against that fuzzy white mold that grows on fruits and veggies. You know the stuff. All requests for protection against blue mold on cheeses and breads will be returned to sender.
posted by Heather P. on 12-9-2007 at 2:33 pm
Peace be with you my child,
I am St. Stu, patron saint of random trivial knowledge. I am the one you pray to during bar trivia when you are wracking your brain trying to remember the order in which the Power Ranger summoned their powers in order to win the $20 bar tab (btw, it’s Mastodon, Pterodactyl, Triceratops, Saber-Toothed Tiger, Tyrannosaurs; with the occasional “Dragon-Zord” thrown in at the beginning if Tommy the Green Ranger was around) Whenever you are writing the essay for your 17th Century Europe Final, I am the one who reminds you that he was portrayed by both Tim Curry and Charlton Heston on film, but blocks your memory of any vital facts about his life or the name of his successor.
I am the one who will never let you forget the theme song to H.R. Pufnstuf. Lo, when you are in the deepest depths of despair, I am the one who comforts you, and allows you to recall the Konami code, and that Nintendo was originally founded as a trading card and stationary company.
Even during the throws of passion, I am with you. For truly I say unto, whilst you are kissing on the couch with your significant other, yea, even engaging in heavy petting, I am the one who forces the thought that Jackee Harry was also on “Sister, Sister” as well as “227,” and the names of the twins sisters were Tia and Tamera Mowry, and you will have that nagging thought that one of them is now on some show on the CW, but you can’t remember the name. And verily, I say, you will part lips with your beloved, now fully consumed with the knowledge that their little brother Tahj was on another show, which you think was called “Smart Guy,” which you sorta remember watching one time at your friend Kyle’s house. By this time, you will have fully separated yourself from your partner’s embrace, since you are now completely lost in thought, recalling the names and species of all of Kyle’s childhood pets.
But let not your heart be troubled, my child. For lo, I am always with you, even when you least expect it. The trigger which engages my patronage can be as minute as a snippet of a car commercial jingle.
So when the road of life gets weary, and you cannot recall the MVP of Super Bowl XXII, simply call upon my name, and in do time, you will remember Doug Williams. In the name of Marshall, Will, and Holly, Amen.
posted by Stu on 12-9-2007 at 2:42 pm
I am St. Madeleine, patroness of that annoying thing that happens when you encounter someone walking in the opposite direction and you both try to sidestep each other only to wind up face to face again. You know what I’m talking about. Just whisper a quick prayer to me and your path shall be impeded no longer.
posted by Maddy on 12-9-2007 at 2:56 pm
I am St. Pete, patron saint of aglets. Whenever those things at the end of you shoelaces goes missing, I am there to look after them and guide them back to you when you have entered the afterlife. Pray to me and light votive candles to ensure that your aglets stay connected to the ends of you laces so they don’t become frayed.
posted by PeteRepeat42 on 12-9-2007 at 3:06 pm
I am St. Jiffy, the Patron Saint of Arachibutyrophobia. Though I personally do not find myself overcome by the fear of peanut butter sticking to the roof of my mouth, I know multiple people who do and I try my best to console them. I also recruit said arachibutyrophobics into my phobia club, “Clubbo-phobia”. We memorize the most ridiculous phobia names and search for representatives of each. We then seek to console them. Arachibutyrophobics are not easy to console, nor are they pleasant people with which to dine. They generally avoid sandwiches for fear of PB & J (which, as I like to point out, NO ONE will ever substitute for your turkey club and expect you to eat it), and won’t go anywhere near Thai restaurants or places that sell Reeses Cups. Without the tryptophan found in peanuts, those who suffer from this phobia tend to be incredibly high-strung. Half of the time, they can’t even remember what it is that they’re afraid of due to niacin efficiency.
As you can see, it is not easy being the Patron Saint of Arachibutyrophobia, but someone’s gotta do it!
posted by Becca on 12-9-2007 at 3:08 pm
Greetings from St. Laura.
I am the saint of Electronics Which Have Been Ruined by Liquids.
Kids poured Grape juice on your cell phone?
Drop your MP3 player in the toilet?
Spill coke on your digital camera?
Pray to me. Hail to me. For I will look over your electronic tidbits and keep them safe.
With my grace, you will fish the MP3 player out of that toilet without a drop having permeated into its delicate circuitry.
I have the power to make the lid on the kids juicy cup blocked, so the sugary gorp does not pour onto your nearby waiting electric nose clippers.
With a whisper of my holy breath, I keep that Styrofoam container of take out Chinese soup from washing over your purse when you take a quick turn and eliminating your entire life, residing in your PDA.
I ask for a nightly votive, lit to my memory. I was martyred by watching TV and making toast while drying my hair in the bathtub.
posted by lauraebk on 12-9-2007 at 3:23 pm
I am St. Katherine the Short, patron saint of drinking at Epcot in Disney World. Not sure which German wine flight to try? Pray to me (although I warn you, I am partial to the white). Trying to find the perfect French pastry to go with the merlot? Look to the heavens (or the bathrooms in Morocco) and ask for guidance. And if the credit card machine is broken at the beer kiosk in Canada, I shall help guide you to the nearest ATM.
Above all, it is my duty to help you have a magical day.
posted by Kate on 12-9-2007 at 3:32 pm
I am St. Anna, the patron saint of lost pencil lead. When the eraser falls out of your mechanical pencil and all the lead you own goes with it, pray and I shall assist you. No guarentees, though.
posted by Anna on 12-9-2007 at 3:45 pm
I am St Tricia, and there’s a 30 percent chance that I’m the Patron Saint of the TV weather people. If you say it’s going to be partly cloudy, just ask me and I’ll let you call it a more pleasing mostly sunny. Whenever you need to cut into someone’s favorite afternoon program to let them know there may or may not be a slight chance of severe thunderstorms and floods, call on me and I’ll be there. Just to make sure everyone understands what’s going on, I’ll help you repeat the same warning 3 times, bringing the “Severe Weather, Death and Destruction Update” to 15 minutes instead of 2. I will also beef up your title to Chief Meteorologist of the World so that you’re really respected, even though your forecasts are wrong 5 out of 7 days of the week and you probably don’t have a degree in Meteorology. Also call on me for my specialties, arm sweeping ability and all things green-screen. Pray to me that you don’t get fired when your boss comes back from golfing soaking wet after you told him it would be sunny. Amen.
posted by Tricia on 12-9-2007 at 3:56 pm
I am St. Ryan the patron of multiple choice tests. When more than one answer is correct let my intercession guide you to the “best” answer. I can not assist you with short answer or essay questions, but I know a guy…
posted by Ryan on 12-9-2007 at 4:00 pm
I am St. Matthew, Patron Saint of Polyester Clothing. Once during the late 60’s and early 70’s I was loved by all, as a harbinger of fashion and style. But now I am equally revered and hated by those who must wear uniforms. I may keep your creases in your pants and shirts forever, BUT due to the miraculous wonder of my fabric I keep you hot in the summer and cold in the winter. And also you will sweat profusely from your nether regions whenever I deem that you owe me penance.
My one request is that you abstain from being near near large fires, lest you catch your polyester clad ass on fire, and in doing so hasten your trip to the other side.
posted by Matt on 12-9-2007 at 4:06 pm
I am St. Lesley, the patron saint of prop shoppers. Do you need to find 20 bottles of orange Listerine before the show? Pray to me, and I will lead you to a well-stocked drugstore. Is it 5pm and you have the wrong kind of blanks? I will get the army/navy surplus store to leave them with the guy in the parking lot next door when they go home so that you can still make your 7:30pm call. Pray to me for your most obscure propping needs, I am here for you…
posted by Lesley on 12-9-2007 at 4:08 pm
Hello. I’m St. James. To distinguish myself from the other, lesser St. James, I shall be known as St. James the Really, Really Important. I am the Patron Saint of Those Who Need To Be Difficult Just Because. What, you got a problem with that?!
Feeling the need to offer a borderline offensive rejoinder to that telemarketer? Pray to me for guidance. Who knows - couldn’t hurt.
posted by James on 12-9-2007 at 4:08 pm
I am St. Shelly, patron saint of all who work toward the end of apostrophe abuse. Every time you see an apostrophe being used incorrectly and you fix it, I will protect you against the jeers of those who would call you a grammar nazi. I will smite them upside the head with a Warriner’s English Grammar book– you know, the kind you used in junior high. There is a special place in heaven for my followers, you who toil ceaslessly to forward the cause of innocent of the humble apostrphe and its misemployment.
posted by shelly on 12-9-2007 at 4:15 pm
I am St. Corrine, patron saint of actuaries’ wives. I will help you at parties, as your husband ‘entertains’ guests with tales of placing a monetary value on Aunt Alice’s eating disorder. I will aid you in explaining that your husband’s job has nothing to do with birds or bees (and very little to with the birds and the bees) to your boss, friend, 3 year old, Aunt Alice, and every Tom, Dick, and Harry you ever meet. I will lend you money, because your husband has no choice but to be frugal as he analyzes your every spending habit. And I will lend a sympathetic ear, as you recount the boring tales from the office your husband is sharing.
posted by Corrine on 12-9-2007 at 4:20 pm
I am St. Chet emillio de toilette un rrrrr and i am the saint the number 1 and 2. Because of me you will no longer have to put down 2 sheets of paper in the bowl to prevent the water from splashing up into your buttox, especially after you have taken a tinkle beforehand. Furthermore you will bask in my presence because your excrement will from here on out forever smell like roses (or A1 sauce if your a man). However I must warn you that no matter how or what i do my powers are weak and powerless when it comes to the stench of a mayonaise eating binge….. i will not tolerate it….. your fate will be sealed with a butt splashy of epic proportions and there will be a rash….. Amen
posted by Noe on 12-9-2007 at 4:30 pm
i am the St. Maria, patron saint of the mispronounced names. since most of you will mispronounce my name upon reading it, you should say it like “Mariah” and not like its spelled, i will allow you to call me St. Mri. Mri is how to pronounce my name in Southern. pray to me and i will whisper in the ears of teachers, professors and interviewers the correct way to say your name. i will not do this for telemarketers, as i realize that this is an excellent way to dodge their calls. my powers are particulary important for for children still in school, since after 2-3 years your entire grade school will be able to say in unison on the first day of roll call “It’s pronounced Mariah, not Maria,” which gets old for everyone involved. also, to all prospective parents out there, i will talk you out of hard to pronounce and/or easy to joke about names or monograms. for proof of my powers, you can ask my friend’s son who was monogram was almost ASS until his parents spoke directly to me and realized the error of their decision.
posted by mri on 12-9-2007 at 4:59 pm
I am St. Adrienne, patron of the Grossly Over-Responsible. Yes, to you who accept every opportunity and/or burden to find its way into your tightly scheduled life, you who offer assistance to those seemingly in need of help (but who are probably faking it because they know you’re a sucker), you who find a way to become even more encumbered by unnecessary responsibility, despite the nagging, sinking, impending sense of doom and failure, I say to thee: “Taketh my hand, I will assume yet another personally unfulfilling endeavor to rid your life of worry, deadlines, stress, thought, or obligation in any form. I am here for you, and you, and you, and you. Is there anything else I can do for you? I have already given up the overwhelming urge to lapse into a coma-like slumber, I promise I have the time. No, really, it’s okay.” Sigh.
posted by adrienne on 12-9-2007 at 5:33 pm
I am St. Chris, patron saint of nerds who wear t-shirts with obscure but clever inside jokes. Go forth, my children, confident in your fashion choice. Heed not those who pronounce Jung with a hard J sound, for they will not understand the wit of your shirt. Know that I am smiling upon you as the nerdy but totally hot girl at the comic store laughs when she sees your “Green Linen Shirt” shirt, for I have guided you to her to learn her WoW server and toon name.
posted by Chris on 12-9-2007 at 5:39 pm
I am St. Ronald, patron saint of Magneto Optical Traps. For years atomic, molecular and optcial physicists have exploited my work to cool atoms to near zero temperatures, giving credit to the “Atom Gods.” Little did they know that they couldn’t speak to the big cheese himself, but rather had an intercessor relaying their requests and helping to shape their clouds of ultracold Lithium and Rubidium. But mark my words, a day will come when I get a vacation and they’ll realize the importance that my saintly work has played in the success of their experiments.
posted by Ron Stites on 12-9-2007 at 6:08 pm
I, Brammimonde, declare myself to be the patron saint of waylaid lawn ornaments.
Unparalleled tragedies befall these, the most vulnerable of our suburban bretheren. What– I ask ye, brothers and sisters– What of the flamingo who’s leg has snapped during an unseasonal summer storm, it’s bouyant body now floating down the storm drain’s way? What of the resin frog that seemed like a good idea at the time but now sits alone in the wasteland shelves of Goodwill? What of the concrete fairy who has lost her wing to thy son-in-law’s car door? You know that the little scumbag chucked it in the ditch, and now it’s buried under those leaves somewhere. And what, dear friends, what of the utmost tragedy? What of the plight of the garden gnome who sends photo after photo home, documenting his perilous struggle to be reunited with the family he loves? Do you think it’s easy for brightly colored ceramic statuary to get photos processed in foreign countries these days?
To call upon me in thy time of need, repeat this prayer daily (translated from the original latin):
Hail Brammimonde, shepherd to thy gnomes, queen of all fanciful woodland figures moldy and worn, the gentle hand that shelters me as does the for-decorative-purposes-only did in my days of youth, resin frogs she does hold to her breast, oh Saint Brammimond help my Lawn Ornament find rest.
Amen.
posted by Brammimonde on 12-9-2007 at 6:50 pm
I am St. Cheryl, patron saint of barn chores. I am the one you pray to when the barn list is long and your day is short. I will keep your water buckets pure and clean. I will prevent your horses from dirtying your newly cleaned stalls. I will keep them from getting hungry when you can’t get home on time to feed. I will make their hay last longer in their paddocks. I will keep their tack oiled and clean. I will keep your aisles neat. All I need is a supply of peppermint treats and prayers for a perfectly balanced seat…
posted by Cheryl on 12-9-2007 at 7:21 pm
I am saint Awyuk, I am the patron saint of projectile vomiting and the preceding nausea. Pray to me when you’d rather not bathes your fellow humans in your stomach filth. If you find favor in my eyes I will only drench the priest with a little bit of pea soup from yesterday. Amen.
posted by Leslie on 12-9-2007 at 7:50 pm
I am Saint Owwie, the patron saint of pinkie toes. Whenever you slam your pinkie toe into the corner of a table, against a door, or just by walking, say my name in a loud, strained voice and I will help you forget the pain. In life, I practiced the art of yelling the Lord’s name to help heal my own hurt pinkie toes. My first two miracles were the healing of in-grown toe nails, and my third was the removing a corn from Pope John III’s right pinkie toe.
Go with the Grace of God, and walk without limp.
Amen.
posted by Annie on 12-9-2007 at 8:19 pm
I am St. Lorna. I am the highly overlooked patron saint of discarded soda cans. See that can laying there in the road? Getting the urge to kick it? Well don’t! Or I shall smite you! Did that can ask to be there in the path of your disgusting foot? No it did not!
All soda cans are my children, as all soda cans get discarded by the cold unfeeling humans who use them to quench their thirsts…
One day all my children will come home to me, and they will be safe. Safe to plan their revenge on the species who created them to hold sugery sustenance, only to be used and have their poor broken, crushed bodies thrown in the the trash, or worse in the gutter.
So pray to me my soda cans! I have not forgotten you!
posted by Lorna on 12-9-2007 at 8:35 pm
I am Saint Erm, patron saint of everyone who has ever felt the need to one-up that guy who simply cannot resist the five-syllable synonym for a one-syllable word, or that woman who loves her obscure, Victorian vocabulary a little too much. All you must do is say my name, and I will guide you to the wisdom that will allow you to revenge yourself with brilliant repartee like, “From the misuse of your antepenultimate sesquipedalia, I can only assume that you have been struck with lethologica and will attempt to redeem yourself at a later time.”
Together we will wrest the power of vocabulary to the side of Good, and triumph over egotistical fools everywhere.
posted by erm on 12-9-2007 at 8:43 pm
I’m Duke, the patron saint of evolutionary scientists.
posted by Duke on 12-9-2007 at 8:55 pm
All hail to me, Saint Jill the Slothful. I am the patron saint of airtight excuses. Do you need an excuse to get you out of something with as little argument as possible? Pray to me and suddenly the words, “Explosive diarrhea” will slide from your lips. Ain’t no one arguing with that one.
posted by Jill on 12-9-2007 at 9:44 pm
Yea, verily, thus sayeth saint Ashley, patron saint of bad haircuts “don’t worry- It will always grow back”. When ever thou needest a new haircut but haveth no thought as to where thou mayest recieve such sustenance, call unto me and I will take thee by the hand and give thee answer to thy prayer- “try the new Great Clips”. Thou shalt recieve succor when afflicted in thy hour of need (say, just before a hot date) and I will hear thee. Yet, my answer will be forever and ever, “it will grow back”. In the meantime, tryeth a new style and hearken unto thy stylists advice- they completeth school for my work. And my work shall roll forward until every person who listeth may understand that salvation cometh after the “cut”. Amen and Amen.
posted by Ashley on 12-9-2007 at 10:04 pm
I am Saint Ashlelus, patron saint of babies who prefer germ infested dog toys to their own safely sanitized goodies.
From crawling babes cutting their teeth on a golden retriever’s tennis ball to a two-year-old blissfully pulling the strings out of a rope toy behind their parents back, I do not yell “No!”
I open my arms to the children and offer a layer of protection from scolding parents and rabies.
So, children and parents, make your prayers out to Saint Ashelus, Patron Saint of Kong eaters.
posted by Ashley on 12-9-2007 at 10:14 pm
Greetings my children, I am thy St. Annie, patron saint of lead characters in musicals that are constantly revived in cinematic form. Through me, you can feel the power of random bursts of song, as every good child should. Please do not fear my tendency to support youthful plucky maidens, I promise that my good will is open to all who ask in C sharp.
Amen.
posted by annie on 12-9-2007 at 10:15 pm
St. Maria–
where have you been all my life??
posted by richel on 12-9-2007 at 10:16 pm
i am st. sally, patroness of broken fingernails. just when you get them all the same length and can paint them, you know that one will break. that is when you pray to me. i will deliver unto you fake fingernails to cover for the broken ones.
posted by Shelly on 12-9-2007 at 10:18 pm
i am st. ophelia, patron saint of those who get drunk and attempt to dial the asshole that ruined their life. i protect you by causing you to misdial the number and reach a number that is neither answered nor has an answering machine.
posted by shelly on 12-9-2007 at 10:27 pm
St. Kelly, patron saint of trying really hard to cover up your butt crack when you squat or bend over because your boss won’t let you wear your stretchy pants to work.
posted by Kelly on 12-9-2007 at 10:32 pm
I’m Saint Dan, patron saint of those easily distra - ooh, a butterfuly!
posted by Dan on 12-9-2007 at 10:48 pm
I am St Cathi, patron saint of people with hearing-impaired spouses. Is the TV so loud that you can feel the vibrations through the bedframe in your bedroom two floors above the “den”? Pray to me. Is the TV so loud that it is still audible, through closed windows, when you’ve run to the farthest edge of the yard and buried yourself in the leaf mould under the cherry tree. Pray to me. Are your ears ringing (even though they are stuffed with cotton, your sweater and the crusts left over from your tuna-salad sandwich)from riding in a car with the CD player so loud that other drivers, three lanes over, are singing along? Pray to me. I can’t do much but if you’re praying to me, you won’t be cursing at him (or her, as the case may be).
posted by Catherine on 12-9-2007 at 11:15 pm
St Liz, will you keep people from leaving their unwanted cats and kittens in my mother’s yard, thereby causing an increase in MY household (I never met a cat she didn’t like but she lives in a trailer)?
And St Lesley, I’ll be praying to you next summer when I’m the “assistant” to the director, my 10-year-old granddaughter. (that is, the set-costume-prop-creator with a budget of zero dollars) I’ll be praying a lot!
posted by Catherine on 12-9-2007 at 11:25 pm
I am THE St Ryan, Patron Saint of Unreconciled Bank Accounts. Pray to me to protect yourself from bounced checks and missed bill payments. I will always be there to help you float you rent check until your next payday.
posted by Ssquach on 12-10-2007 at 12:08 am
I’m St. Emma, patron of depressed, drunken grad students who are seriously considering moving back in with their mothers.
Who am I? Why am I here? What the hell am I going to do with an MA in the humanities? Can I file a no-penalty medical withdrawl from the university because of a nervous breakdown? When did they jack up the price on McCormick vodka?
Worry no more, my child, for I, St Emma shall answer all of these questions whilst wallowing in gilt refulgence reminiscent of a late Byzantine encaustic Icon. (That last part will be on the test.)
posted by Emma on 12-10-2007 at 12:35 am
hi folks!
i’m julie, patron saint pledged to bedevil blanket thieves.
significant other always stealing your blankets in the middle of the night (and always JUST when you get warm enough to truly fall asleep)?? call on me, and i’ll see that they suddenly have to get up and pee.
posted by julie on 12-10-2007 at 1:47 am
I am St. Heather, patron saint of onigiri (Japanese rice balls). I bless these bundles of carbohydrate loaded goodness that feed so much of the hurried Japanese population. In addition, I watch over foreigners vactioning or living in Japan who cannot read the writing on the outside packaging and end up buying raw chicken filled onigiri or something equally unappetizing/potetentially a cause of food poisoning.
posted by Heather on 12-10-2007 at 4:17 am
I am Colleen, patron saint of Schadenfreude. I protect those who secretly smile to themselves when their intolerable coworker is let go, or when their vain sister-in-law gains 10 pounds.
posted by Colleen on 12-10-2007 at 5:35 am
Saint Cynthia patron saint of tongue twister attempters, pray to me by saying “Irish Wrist Watch” five times swiftly and correctly, and if you can do that, you wont’ need me
posted by Cindylou on 12-10-2007 at 7:24 am
I am Saint Karry, patron saint of cubicle dwellers. I will be there to comfort you when it feels the walls of your 4′x4′ cell are closing in on you. I will protect your ears from that guy with the really annoying laugh in the cube next to you. Turn to me when you need a break from the incessant hell that is your job.
posted by Karry Bender on 12-10-2007 at 8:06 am
Greetings from St. Ashley, Patron Saint of flawlessly hitting the orange button with skill and precision while playing Guitar Hero. Pray to me and you will never experience the shame, indignity and embarrassement of making it 70% through Freebird while playing lead guitar.
I offer no help, however, for the red, green, yellow, or blue buttons as I am a saint who helps those who help themselves.
posted by Ashley on 12-10-2007 at 8:49 am
I am St. Terry, patron saint of Waiting Until the Last Minute. Do you have a report due today? Pray to me so that I may give you the words to form an excuse that is so ridiculous it must be true and your boss will be so impressed that he gives you an extra day. I also help during final exams, Christmas shopping, and New Year’s Eve party dates.
posted by Terry on 12-10-2007 at 8:57 am
St. Diana of Palmetto Bay, patron saint of the special type of patience needed to deal with overbearing mothers who need help with the computer right when you are getting to sleep. I also clean windows.
posted by Diana on 12-10-2007 at 9:25 am
I’m St. Dunce patron saint of illogical assumptions. Got faith?
posted by Vorple on 12-10-2007 at 9:50 am
I am St. Julia, patron of those filled with impressively handy knowledge. Are you always able to answer the idle rhetorical questions of others such as “I wonder why candles are taper shaped?” or “Why does DC have streets named after all the letters except J, X, Y, or Z street?” For those faithful who always have the answer to every question, those who begin every conversation with “did you know…”, and greet every fact, no matter how minute with a “Wow!”, I will look after your passion for knowledge. Pray to me to remind your spouse to TiVo Jeopardy or you lose your copy of mental_floss and I shall provide.
posted by Julia on 12-10-2007 at 10:12 am
I am Saint MJ patron of all teachers who don’t know the difference between a monitor and a computer. Am I not there for you when you call me all emotional because your monitor won’t turn on, and I come running only to find that it has come unplugged? Am I not there for you when you force your monitor cable into a printer port and bend all the pins? Am I not there for you when your virus protection is not updated because you haven’t logged off and re-logged onto your machine for over a week? Yes my children, I am there for you with a smile on my face because I know there are flossers to whom I can tell the tale.
posted by mpyre9 on 12-10-2007 at 10:42 am
I, virgin St. Christina (b.1976- ), am patron saint of online dating and first impressions, assisting women who are navigating the dark, frightening internet alleys searching for love. A prayer to me may not squelch the pathetic feeling of desperation or embarrassment BUT it’s a comfort to know that you are not doing it in secret.
Prayer
Dear St. Christina, Guide my fingers as they click through profiles and pictures thousands thick. That love may find my desperate soul and keep me from dying single and old.
A man.
posted by Christina on 12-10-2007 at 11:09 am
I am St. Susan, the patron Saint of the ‘Elaine Dance’ from Seinfeld.
I have mastered the dance; something that takes a great deal of flailing thumbs, moderated kicks, torso jerks, moderated claps, and balance (if intoxicated).
I have also won a dance off against 3 guys by using only this dance.
When used at a bar, I have found it to be a great conversation starter and have been applaused many many times. Scaring off the opposite sex with the dance?? nonsense, guys have been attracted to it.
posted by susan on 12-10-2007 at 11:31 am
I am St. iElla, the patron saint of those addicted to online blogs & social sites. Can’t seem to stop reading Mental Floss in order to start your day & work. Can’t stop checking your Myspace account to see if your profile view count has gone up or if anyone has written you. Do you have a tendency to burn dinner because you can’t stop reading the 100 comments left by people that can barely spell cat, but are still compelling you to continue to read.
Pray to me and I will help ease your addiction for at least an hour. Which will give you enough time to eat, shower, work or accomplish any other chore you may need to do that doesn’t involve a mouse click or keyboard. And don’t forget to include an avatar of me on your own social site or anywhere else that allows you to post an image of me.
posted by iella blue on 12-10-2007 at 11:50 am
I am St. Jenny, patron Saint of overweight mothers who spend their whole life preparing meals for their bodybuilding sons. I give these women the strength to ward off heart attacks until the time their sons get rich enough to hire a team of chefs. My greatest gift to these women is the presorted carton full of egg whites. May they never have to crack open a real egg again.
posted by Jenny G. on 12-10-2007 at 12:12 pm
i am tami, patron saint of expensive free kittens. i preside over people who have adopted a stray kitten attempting to do a good deed (and add a little love to their lives) only to find out later that the kitten suffers from numerous expensive medical conditions. i attempt to give them strength and perhaps help them to win the lotto to pay for the mounting vet bills.
posted by tami on 12-10-2007 at 12:39 pm
I am Santa Victoria, patron saint of college students residing with room mates from hell
I am with you each time they lock you out to have some fun with their boy/girlfriends. Weird noises in their sleep. Constant bitching about things you do not care about. Shoes and clothing in the middle of a room to trip over. I am also with you when you have to endure their disgusting body odor. Hey, as far as you know they have no idea they reek of old cheese. I give the strength to endure it, and to come up with creative ways to get them to shower.(Itching powder perhaps?)
posted by Victoria on 12-10-2007 at 12:40 pm
Here’s my bio:
St. Rachel of Albany was born in the year of Our Lord 1987, the daughter of a humble electrician. She was canonized because of her patience in the midst of her father’s month-long summertime cucumber pickling. She endured cucumbers littering the kitchen, enforced dill-picking, and a universal odor of vinegar with a gentle spirit. For this the Church considers her a paragon of womanly virtue and filial piety. St. Rachel is therefore the patron saint of pickles. Also, since from an early age she chewed on the draw-strings of her hoodies, she is the saint of aglets (those little plastic covers on the end of shoe-laces).
posted by gibson8tor on 12-10-2007 at 3:06 pm
I am St. Maeve, patron saint of doggie diapers. Pray to me and your bitch in heat or unfortunately incontinent pooch will forever be at peace with the pup diaper. Never having to worry about leakage or Bowser rubbing his bum on everything to get that darned thing off, your little poochie will be comfortable and confident sporting such accoutrement with the guidance of St. Maeve.
posted by Maeve on 12-10-2007 at 4:05 pm
I am St. Kristen, the patroness of good parking spaces.
Place a statuette of me on thy dashboard and, lo, good parking spaces will become available as thou driveth up to any location. I am most helpful in assisting urban dwellers, but suburban and rural devotees may benefit from my divine gifts, as well.
Park remotely no more! Circle the block no longer! Never walk six blocks in high heels again!
Just recite this prayer to garner my parking prowess:
Oh, St. Kristen, as I driveth to my destination, please mold space and time such that my arrival coincides with another’s departure. Forever and ever, Amen.
posted by Kristen on 12-10-2007 at 4:07 pm
I am St. Mocos. I am the patron saint of those who pick their nose with their thumb, whereby assuming everyone thinks that it is just a scratch. You have seen them, they innocently flick their thumb and finger when their hand has returned to the position closest to the ground, assuming that no one saw their covert booger toss. (God forbit it be a slimy one. Those are like hell coming off without the “finger roll.”) I help the masses (haha, get it?) grow out their thumbnail so that the “scratch” will cover more surface area and allow for a deeper and wider swath. I also give those who witness the deed a feeling inside that says, “You know, I do that, too. I should just pretend like I thought he was just scratching.” Now, three hail Mary’s and 2 our fathers. Your sins, and nostrils, are cleansed.
P.s. I became this saint because I really enjoy picking my nose. And on a side note, I have often wondered…Did Jesus pick his nose in public? Was he worried about the social stigma associated with it? Food for thought!
posted by Tommy on 12-10-2007 at 4:08 pm
When a painfully long series of imagine ellipses overtakes your conversation, say a quick prayer to St. Mejdu, the Patron Saint of Awkward Silences. May clever puns, quick quips, and witty repartee be with you always. Amen.
posted by Mej on 12-10-2007 at 4:15 pm
According to the Patron Saints Index over at the Catholic Forum, there’s no patron saint for trombonists. Therefore, I, St. Roger of Lexington, must stand up and offer to fill this void. Pray to me and I shall protect you from dropping your mute loudly to the stage during a concert, or (horror of horrors!) losing your slide during a page-turn. I will not, however, stop you from whacking the tenor sax player in front of you in the head if you have to hit sixth position. That’s a problem for *their* patron saint.
posted by Roger on 12-10-2007 at 4:30 pm
I’m St. Joe, patron saint of that little piece of umbilical cord that dries up and falls off of infants after a few weeks.
Sure its not a “fancy” thing to be in charge of… But its alot more important than one might think; that’s why it only takes a fairy to cover baby teeth.
Unlike all the other schmoes on this list my job has some upside potential. Just a few more years overseeing the timely shedding of this often ignored pre-natal vestige and I’ll be in charge of eye color changing (Babies are born with bluish/greyish eyes which change with time).
Keep reaching for the stars, that’s what I say… It’s what got me out of overseeing Baby’s First Boom Boom.
posted by Doug on 12-10-2007 at 4:39 pm
Remember that time you added chili powder to your cocoa because “the Mexicans did it”? Well, you have St. Victoria to thank for that, Patron Saint of Bad Decisions. And those shoes you invented with live goldfish in the soles. Parking in the handicapped spot “just for a minute” and having your car impounded. Speaking of cars, the fact that you bought that Chevrolet Chevette to begin with. And the time you let your teenage son paint flames on the hood. And trying to give yourself stitches after nearly severing your thumb trying to sharpen a knife using another knife. Stealing audio/visual equipment from your company and then selling it on eBay under your own name. That was all thanks to me. I don’t make your life any easier. I just make it a lot more interesting.
posted by Victoria on 12-10-2007 at 4:58 pm
I am Ellen, Patron Saint of Cell Phones.
When you find yourself in the grocery store and you can’t remember if you have enough toilet paper but you can’t get enough reception to call your significant other, pray to me.
When your low battery alarm is beeping menacingly but you’re lost in the bad
part of northside, pray to me.
When you’ve been on hold with your cell company for 30 minutes and your call gets dropped and you’re about to flip out in front of your co-workers, pray to me.
When you leave the bar a little too late and drunkenly call your boyfriend to accuse him of not giving you enough attention, and he tells you to “calm down, you’re overreacting”, then you angrily throw your phone against the neighbors’ brick house, pray to me.
*These are completely hypothetical suggestions. I help in any time of cell phone frustration.
posted by Ellen on 12-10-2007 at 5:09 pm
I would be canonized as St.Perl, Patron Saint of Computer System-administrators. My faithful pray for me to intercede between them and the Stupid Users, granting them the patience to Suffer Fools, to be able to Display the Wisdom of Athena in solving problems, and to make all their scripts run True and Clean.
posted by Howie on 12-10-2007 at 5:49 pm
I am Saint Meg, patron of migraines, stomach migraine, pitiful landlord relationships, and the due justice college students deserve? Why you ask? Because as a martyr of all these various aliments and frustrating situations there is no one better to help you when you feel the world weighs heavy on your shoulders!
posted by Meg on 12-10-2007 at 5:54 pm
Call me Saint Biff, the Patron Saint of Mouth-Breathers. Invoking my name will help clear up those sinuses, raise that gaping jaw, and maybe even clean up that acne. I can be especially useful whenever one comes within five feet of an attractive woman.
posted by MrKrantz on 12-10-2007 at 6:04 pm
I’m Kate the patron saint of the directionally challenged. I once locked myself behind the fire door of a movie theater looking for the bathroom (don’t ask, but lucklily, it wasn’t an emergency!) I’d preside over gas stations and parking lots for those who hope to have an epiphany over where the hell it is they are going. I will try to work closely with the Patron Saint of Male Pride and the Patron Saint of Road Construction, but no promises there, OK?
posted by Kate on 12-10-2007 at 6:10 pm
I am St. Fritz, patron saint of public restrooms. I will ensure that all your public restrooms are clean, pleasant-smelling and have toilet paper.
I will also do my best to have soap and papertowels for you. But no promises on that one….
posted by Erin on 12-10-2007 at 6:17 pm
I am Karenicus, patron saint of college students with bad roommates. Be the roommate a raging drug dealer, a slut who likes to bring “friends” home, a creepy kid with no concept of personal hygiene, or simply another anti-social agorophobiac who NEVER LEAVES THE ROOM, I’m here to sympathize and bless you for your prolonged efforts to survive in this sort of environment.
posted by Karen on 12-10-2007 at 6:50 pm
I am St. Sara, patron saint of Judaism. I attend a Preysbeteria college full of Catholics and Christians and am the only Jew a lot of people know. I teach them what I can and help them learn about the Jewish religion and culture… for example we just lit a menorah and celebrated the sixth night of Hanukkah!
posted by Sara Tall on 12-10-2007 at 6:57 pm
I am William, patron saint of hiding ‘personal’ items. Realized you left the computer on with your favorite porn stars doing their job? Pray to me and your loved one will find a love poem written by you on the very same computer instead of the incriminating materials. Pray to me, and the lad mags about to be found will turn into Time Magazine.
posted by Billy on 12-10-2007 at 7:17 pm
I am St. Kelly the patron Saint of stupid nicknames. Any Steve-o’s, Mike-sters and Bob-erino’s have me to thank. Praying to me will ensure that all of the lamely nicknamed people of the world will prosper and someone in whatever workplace they inhabit will magically be able to yell it out across the sea of cubicles. Bow down the the presence of greatness!!!!
posted by Kelly on 12-10-2007 at 7:28 pm
the history of st Danielle is a long and often told tale. St. Danielle is famously the patron saint of longing for that last bit of whatever food was in the fridge when you left, but sadly, is no longer there when you get back. She went strolling from the monastery one day to chat with the future patron saint of people stuck with horrible managers, and as she went about her day a vision came to her. It showed her eating that last delicious coconut cupcake she had left on the counter. The vision became more and more lucid as the day went on. It was her destiny to conquer that cupcake! She went through many trial and tribulations as the hours of the day dragged on. Many were amazed at the quiet strength she displayed while fighting the vicious copy machine demon. She knew her reward covered in sweet frosting was waiting for her. Sadly on that historic day, when she returned to the abbey, she found that Scarlett No Haira, her hairless cat, had knocked the cupcake off of the counter and into the waiting jaws of Charlie, the one headed, but three legged german shepherd beast.
She lives on for the martyred cupcake, and those who have also daydreamed of a sweet treat only to find someone else had ravaged it, find St. Danielle’s story to comfort them.
posted by st danielle on 12-10-2007 at 7:53 pm
I am St. Korin. Patron St. of the weird people who look like a giraffe when they run. I will ensure that they provide entertainment for the rest of world without injuring themselves.
posted by Korin on 12-10-2007 at 8:06 pm
I am St. Mary, patron of the equillibrium challenged. Pray to me in times of tumbling and pain in front others. In times when you twist your ankle in a busy courtyard and have all the smokers look at you panties when your skirt is over your head and you are on hands and knees. Pray to me in times when your walking, induced by toxins and clumsily tip over or walk into the wall. I will be there to guide you to a safe resting place to recover, hide, and sometimes help you aim into the toilet.
posted by Miss Nae on 12-10-2007 at 8:13 pm
I am St. Manda, patron saint of hard-to-read bumper stickers. Yes, you are compelled to read them. They call to you to squinch your eyes up while driving in an effort to make the tiny lettering, the strange fonts, and the difficult colors into legible words. And while you know it may be dangerous, you continue to read even after figuring out that the bumper stickers are really ads for businesses that no longer exist. I will not save you from rear-ending the car in front of you while reading its stickers, but I will help you to laugh at the owner’s cleverness at finding such an interesting, if impossible-to-read bumper sticker.
posted by Manda on 12-10-2007 at 8:36 pm
I am St. Elastica, patron saint of the unreachable back itch. Back during the Middle Ages, I was castigated as a heretic for my beliefs and was left tied to a tree in the wilderness. The elements did not finish me, and the good Lord protected me from wild animals, but when I finally managed to free myself I had gone mad for want of scratching my back. I was martyred for my beliefs, as I vigorously tried to reach my spine not far away from the edge of a steep cliff. For your prayers I will grant you the relief of a not-too-sharp edged ruler, or a friend not given to nail-biting. I shall be depicted in paintings and statuary as standing on the Devil as represented by a serpent wearing one of those itchy woolen sweaters.
posted by Heidi on 12-10-2007 at 9:24 pm
Poignant message from: The Saint of Lost Socks.
Socks have been lost throughout the ages: What became of the pair of blue booties that I adorned our Lord with upon his birth?
I have performed many miraculous reunions over the course of history but, I am humbled by the mound of lost socks that fill my corner of heaven. Some will find their mate. Others will spend eternity searching for their argyle or plain-white match. Those are the socks that need my guidance and they need only pray to me for salvation. I will deliver them from the dryers and discarded laundry baskets of the world. I hold no judgment over the left or the right.
My ordained task is to puncture the toes of the ignorant and those who would discard a solo sock; for once the left has been cast away, all I can do, is pray for the soul of the right.
posted by Steven Irwin on 12-10-2007 at 10:12 pm
Greetings Flossers and Followers! I am St Sara, Patron Saint of Cowlicks. Got a hot date? Job interview? Church? Your own Wedding? Did you fall asleep after a shower even though you know you shouldn’t because “once it dries that way it doesn’t move until you wash it again”? I understand your plight. Did you get a new haircut that looked great when the stylist did it, but once you’ve washed it doesn’t ever do anything even slightly resembling a hairstyle again? I have been there too, my child.
Pray to me and be blessed with extra-hold yet /flexible/ hair gel to tame your unruly hairsprouts.
posted by Sara on 12-10-2007 at 10:17 pm
I am St. Susan, patron saint of geeks. Come to me all you who are wearing pants that make you look like you are going to a flood, to you who hold your glasses together with a band aid, to you who wear white socks with black dress shoes, to you who cannot have a conversation without mentioning the latest technology, and to you who stay up until 2:00 am reading the mental_floss web site. In me you will find rest. Even though you walk through the valley of the shadow of Dungeons and Dragons, I will be with you and remind you that you are not a wizard but a mere mortal.
I understand your plight. After many years and much trail and tribulation, I received my sainthood through learning to love the aforementioned. Remember: the geek shall inherit the earth.
posted by Susan on 12-10-2007 at 11:07 pm
I am Saint Christoph, patron saint of Murphys Law. Pray to me whenever things go wrong. Not that I can channge things anyways. A law is a law, thats why they call it Murphys law, geniuses. Just do it for self-pity.
posted by cmei on 12-10-2007 at 11:10 pm
I am St. Denise, patron saint of orthodontist patients. Are you enduring twin blocks? I will not laugh at you just because you look like an emaciated monkey, you can’t close your mouth, and you can’t pronounce d, t, or s. I will defend you from the strangers who, upon hearing you talk, think that you are deaf. When you graduate to braces, I will apply balm to your ravaged tongue and cheeks. And when it all comes off, I will be there with caramel apples.
posted by Denise on 12-11-2007 at 12:53 am
I am Stephanie, the patron saint of desk gum. I will hid the glob of mush beneath my shadows and within the most arcane nooks and crannies imaginable, where no student, professional, or janitor will find it, thus ensuring it’s longevity. The stickiness shall keep, and stay intact eternally until such a time that the All Powerful feels it shall decompose.
posted by Stephanie on 12-11-2007 at 1:01 am
I am St. Tug-of-War, I make 5th graders feel better when they are bannished from field day events for threatening the lives of their pen pals. I understand that they grew very impatient with the infrequency of letters. I also understand that they had no idea that their pen pal had been recovering from chicken pox for two weeks.
posted by PartyWanted on 12-11-2007 at 1:09 am
I am Arnold, Patron saint to those who live in the parallel and bizarre time continuum known as “Hooterville.”
For the sorry souls who find themselves in the shoes of Oliver Wendell Douglas way too often, for the confused who must adjust their logic to that of Eb Dawson, or the unfortunates who must do business with with the likes of Mr. Haney, I got your back.
posted by Arnold on 12-11-2007 at 4:44 am
Blessings from Saint Kathryn, the seeker of files. When you save your files on your computer and attempt to find them hours or days later, I will guide you in your search and ensure that you probably just saved them under a different folder. Praying to me will make sure assignments will not be lost in cyber space, and that your boss can always count on you to find the document you were working on a few months ago. I will also help you to keep your files more organized by labelling all of your documents correctly and using many sub-folders. Amen.
posted by Kate on 12-11-2007 at 8:36 am
My name is Deborah I came from Rome in Italy and all my days are full of santity the pollution here smell of vatican so now I’m a “Beata” but to became a “santissima” I neeed of you!the thing that I love and that made me Saint is my silence…I can stay with a person without speak for hours…it is no so easy but I can…!!!The miracle can appen even with 10 or more peaple…even if I’m the speaker!!! it is not so easy! try please!
vote me!!!
posted by St. Deborah on 12-11-2007 at 8:43 am
I am your patron saint of Orgasms. Saint Tiddlenippledill.
I will make sure you have an joyable night, providing you no longer take the Lord’s name in vain. (yes you must say my name instead)
When you need me, just light a candle, have a glass of wine, and I will come.
posted by Amy on 12-11-2007 at 11:16 am
I am St. Natalie, patron saint of ball fringe.
Now, I’m not the casual crafter’s saint but for thoes that use excessive ball fringe in their daily lives. I am there to keep your dogs from chewing the pom poms off the pillows in the kitchen (because some kitchens just need pillows with ball fringe on them.) I will keep your art teachers from failing you for usuing ball fringe in everything, heavily associated with crafters, not fine art. I will be there to keep ball fringe out of the hands of anyone using it ‘ironicly’ because there is no irony in good taste.
Wrap yourself in ball fringe, the trim of the gods, or um, saints!
posted by natalie on 12-11-2007 at 11:26 am
St. Brian
Patron Saint of the Blue Porda Potty.
I am there to bless your self-sacrifice for standing in the long lines at concerts and sporting events. Most of the lesser in spirit choose to relieve themselves behind car doors or in the bushes. Friends and outsiders may beat on your spiritual sanctuary trying to disturb and rush your harmonious enlightenment. I will reward your commitment to decency by blessing by odorous baptism while providing you a glimpse into the heat of Hell if you sway from your righteous ways.
posted by brian l. atwell on 12-11-2007 at 12:04 pm
Hail saints and sinners alike. I am Saint Allison, patron of the holy people who do not get recognized or remembered. Few and far between are the lauded saints, so when you feel down because of your lack of praise, pray to me.
AD: Rainbow+Glow-in-the-Dark Rosaries, 85% OFF! SALE SALE SALE!
Ahem, what was that? I did not just advertise for a tacky facsimile product. The Vatican is not trying to juice you dry. What are you talking about?
Anyway, my child, I will pray for you.
posted by Allison on 12-11-2007 at 12:18 pm
Friends!
I am the Patron Saint of Myspace Users.
May all ye find peace when you repost that “Repost this or get 7 years of bad luck” bulletin.
When you feel the anxiety of unreturned comments and the fear of spammers phishing your password, feel no fear, just pray to me and I will help you find the path to social networking bliss.
And yes, those bulletins are true.
Bye the way, I also exist on this planet in an artificial human form.
You can call me Tom.
posted by Josh on 12-11-2007 at 12:34 pm
I am Saint Scott, patron saint of all three dimensional animals converted to two dimensions through the forces of my minions Goodyear and Goodrich. The animals sing my praises of “Oh, God!” immediately prior to their conversion to my faith. My altar is the highway where upon my followers place offerings of the recently converted. I prefer the smaller animals but have been provided mirth with a cow or the occasional aardvark with a yellow stripe painted upon it. My followers are sometimes called “road kill”, “bumper boo boos” and “highway huggers.” I give blessings to he (or she) who lovingly increases my kingdom by swerving from their personal paths to my path of righteousness.
posted by Scott on 12-11-2007 at 12:42 pm
I am St. Sassafras, patron saint of women who take off their top for beads at Mardi Gras. Did you have one too many drinks before the parade? Were you feeling frisky? Did it seem like a good idea at the time? Was it empowering to hear hundreds of men chanting for you to expose youself!? Well fear not! I will make sure no one recognizes you the next day. I will lose that release form you signed to be in Girls Gone Wild; and overexpose everyone’s film before it’s developed. Well enjoy all those beads, because through your faith in me we can all embrace an decadent Mardi Gras with nothing to regret execpt a devilish hangover (but that’s a completely different department).
posted by Steve on 12-11-2007 at 1:05 pm
I am St. Stephen of Pisarinco, Patron Saint of People who come from Villages that no longer exist. Has your home village been swallowed up by a larger municipality? Expropriated and turned into a landfill or sewage treatment facility, or worse yet, a Wal-mart? Pray to me and I will bestow upon you boundless sympathy. You will find it (sympathy) in the dictionary between sh*t and syphillis. Amen.
posted by Stephen McCavour on 12-11-2007 at 1:12 pm
I am the patron Saint of Telemarketing! After you get nasty with the one who calls you, you must pray to me. Did you forget on the other line was a person who knows your name, address, and possible more about you?
posted by Shannon on 12-11-2007 at 1:47 pm
I am Saint Lunchbox, the patron saint of disappearing lunches in any communal room and/or fridge.
Don’t worry, your lunches are with me in a better place now.
Your chili cheese Fritos want me to tell you that it is okay to move on. They said you are now free to go after the Hot Fries you always ogle at the store.
posted by Justin on 12-11-2007 at 1:53 pm
I am Saint Jared. I watch over the underskilled and overpaid people who work for their parents. I’ll be with you to assist when you brown nose your step father for a raise, tell your co-workers to go **** themseleves just because you can, take a three month paid vacation to travel through Europe and last but not least take company property home with you for sale on Ebay.
I was martyred on March 7th, 2003 by a mob of angry co-workers during a Friday company BBQ. I arrived wearing my pajamas to take some food “to-go” the mob decided they have had enough.
posted by Jared Probst on 12-11-2007 at 2:36 pm
I am St. Rus, dedicated to those who never win anything. Went to a tricky tray that had thousands of prizes, and were completely skunked, while those around you were barely visible behind all of their winnings? Ever have that momentary lift during lotteries when the first couple of numbers are on your ticket, only to be crushed by the end of the drawing? You know you don’t want to enter that raffle. So what if they’re giving a car away? Be strong. No, wait. Buy a ticket. Buy lots of tickets. It’s for charity, for crying out loud. You’ll be crushed, even though the money went toward a good cause. You can whisper to me that you will never waste another dollar on these worthless drawings. But we both know you’ll do it again. And I will be there for you, telling you we can’t always win, and the lottery is the tax on people who don’t understand statistics. And you will tell me to cram it. And then I’ll call you a loser. And then you’ll ask me why didn’t I warn you that you weren’t going to win. And I’ll tell you that after 36 years, maybe you ought to get a clue, and then you’ll…
posted by Rus on 12-11-2007 at 3:05 pm
Id have to be the patron saint of the layman’s 2nd Law of Thermodynamics, also known as entropy, Ste. Amber. Instead of cursing this law for the chaos it hurtles at me, I can now embrace it and so can you! Since I can never seem to have enough energy to put into the systems around me (ie homekeeping, kids, scheduling, my hair, for instance), said systems are constantly tending toward chaos (ie, big messes, late school forms, bedhead, etc). So instead of cringing everytime you open that stuffed hall closet for fear of what may crash upon your head, or hoping no one will open your “junk drawer” in your desk or kitchen - just go ahead and think of me and realize you’re OK - after all, the even the universe can’t keep it all together all the time!
posted by aTribe on 12-11-2007 at 4:04 pm
BTW, #62 is my next favorite saint EVER!
posted by aTribe on 12-11-2007 at 4:06 pm
I am St. Madison, patron saint of poor abused dolls and toys. See that doll on the windowsill? Do you want to pull its head off for no reason whatsoever? Don’t! Having the urge to dye that poor little baby’s hair pink? Don’t! Pray to me, human or doll, and I shall give you the strength to move on…
posted by Anonymous on 12-11-2007 at 4:06 pm
I am St. Stana of Blanich. I am patron saint to those people suffering from the horrible and unyielding affliction of Cubliclitis Trolloverwheluhmnus. I can be called forth to bring relief to those poor office weasels, toiling away in their dank, sweat holes smelling of ham and toner cartridges– who suffer the most unsufferable curse of all: That of the woman in the corner cubicle who sees fit to display her collection of troll dolls from 1998. They wink obscenely at the corporate drones, naked and wrinkly and brightly-coloured in hair… much like a gay republican nudist’s convention being held between the 11 am finance-team meeting and the 1 pm IT-team meeting.
During the holiday season St. Stana of Blanich is called on most often, owning to the corner-cubicle lurker’s penchant for erecting a giant christmas tree and allowing the hideous troll dolls to propigate within the needle-covered branches. They emerge, like clown wig-wearing warts, smelling of fir sap and failure.
With my leopard-bobblehead of justice and steak-knife of coffee room, I sever the heads of the trolls, a painless death to be sure, and then feed the carcasses to Jerry… my leopard-bobblehead. No pain, no trolls, no evidence. St. Stana out.
posted by KickitKitsune on 12-11-2007 at 4:18 pm
I am Saint Amanda, patron saint of recyclables that end up in normal trash cans. Pray to me, and you will find yourself noticing recycling bins that you may not have before. You will do the Earth some good, and your garbage man will not be angry.
posted by Mandie on 12-11-2007 at 5:29 pm
St. Tånegl, the patron saint of hang nail sufferers. Martyr who survived decapitation, burning, and gassing, and was only killed when my oppressors slammed my foot really hard into a hard wall, so the toenail grew into the skin and caused gangrene to set. When one feels the urge to bite their nails (finger or toe), forgo socks, or see if they can knock down a lamp post, a prayer to me will cure them of his sinful desires. I also provide relief for those already suffering from hangnails, and all nail conditions (onychosis).
posted by Tånegl on 12-11-2007 at 8:20 pm
I am Saint Anthony. No, not that putz that everyone who can’t find their cell phone prays to.
Hang on a sec.
QUIT ROOTING AROUND IN YOUR @#$%&@! PURSE AND TRY TO STAY IN YOUR OWN %&@*!# LANE YOU PIE FACED COW!!!
Where was I? Oh right. Saintyness. Sainthood. Whatever.
I’m the patron saint of everyone who has to get somewhere, but is inevitably stuck behind some brainless prat who…
YEAH I’M TALKING ABOUT YOU SAINT PATRICK!!!! I KNOW GREEN IS YOUR FAVORITE COLOR, BUT DO YOU HAVE TO WAIT FOR JUST THE RIGHT %&#$!@ SHADE BEFORE YOU’LL GO?!?!?!
Look, I’d tell you my whole story, but I gotta get to work. Jason’s heard my stories. Talk to him about it. He said something about starting a blog after he heard them.
posted by Anthony on 12-11-2007 at 9:01 pm
I’m St. Melissa, the patronly saint of God’s children who are disillusioned with the Frank TV commercials. Send a prayer my way, and you’ll suddenly have the will to change the channel, hit the mute button or in all good fortune - TBS just might cancel the show!
posted by Melissa on 12-11-2007 at 10:09 pm
I am St. Jeff, the patron saint of disposable cigarette lighters! When you have just a little bit of gas left, shake the lighter and call unto me, and I will get you an itty bitty flame out of the damn thing for the last time. Or, if you have no lighter, call unto me and another smoker will appear beside you and you can bum a light.
But I have many other uses as well:
When your clothes are frayed, call unto me and you will remember that you can burn off the loose threads.
When you are at a romantic dinner and you want to light the candles, call unto me and you will light them in one smooth and sexy motion.
When you are standing outside and a hot girl asks, “Does anyone have a light?” call unto me and you will be right there, flame in hand and with an “in”. (Anything after that is all you.)
When you are in the middle of the woods with the beers for you and your friends and you realize you forgot the opener, call unto me and I will remind you that you can you use your pointer finger as a fulcrum and your lighter as a lever and you can impress your friends as you pop the top to that tasty brew.
When you are having a very bad Christmas and you are sick and tired of the really, really annoying loud children’s toys and you want to see them all go away, call unto me by my other name:
St. Tickle-Me-Elmo’s Fire
May your light never go out. Amen.
posted by jeffcomedy on 12-12-2007 at 3:38 am
I am St. Matt, the patron saint of nervous energy. Pray to me whenever you feel anxious and concerned that you should be doing more with your time. Pray to me while you make restless cell phone calls or text any friend that will listen. I will make you aware that your pacing has got your neighbor feeling seasick, or whisper a reminder in your ear to stop shaking your knee because you are annoying everyone else at the table. You should pray to me during commercial breaks at movie theaters, while waiting in line at Starbucks, or whenever you need to restart your computer for a random Windows update.
I’ll do what I can to put your mind at ease, however I may only have a limited time to help since there are so many other things that I should be doing right now.
Amen to that!
posted by Matt on 12-12-2007 at 4:39 am
I am St. Margaret Mary Francis, the patron saint of cleaning. Pray to me when you need your kitchen cleaned, your toilet scrubbed or the lint picked off of your lapel. You really don’t want to see the sink pile up with dishes now do you? Why continually look at the split milk in the bottom of the fridge or the spudge in the sink. Say a quick little prayer and I will help you get through the mess and turn into an OCD clean freak!
May the blessing of Mr Clean bestowed upon you.
posted by Maggie on 12-12-2007 at 11:20 am
Do you wonder to yourself while writing a post/email/resume/essay, “Now should I use to, too, or two in this sentence?” Have you ever had your face burn as you realized that people were laughing at your grammatical mishaps and at the same time not understanding why you should have used “effect” instead of “affect”? Have no fear, faithful followers; St. Stephanie of English is here for you. No longer will you need to live in fear of using the wrong version of bye, by or buy. No longer will you be the subject of snide comments from those thousands of people who read that “Mental Floss is an great sight. I went their and found out about greene tee.” I know that many of you don’t mean to make mistakes and that is why I’m here to serve you. I offer you protection from needless embarrassment. To call on my services, just utter this simple prayer:
St. Stephanie of English,
Teach me to pray, not prey,
To live and have a good life.
May I always choose wisely between
There, their and they’re.
Amen.
posted by SM on 12-12-2007 at 2:41 pm
I am Saintess Amy, guardian of the hopelessly unoriginal . If you have ever thought that - finally- you have come up with the one idea that no one else has , only to discover that it *does* already exist (Number 121, Rus… I am referring to you! ;-)) … then I am your woman!
But if by the fates above,
should choose to reward me - do it with
a Long sleeved small Womans Pavlov
posted by Amy on 12-12-2007 at 9:57 pm
Behold all ye, Andrew, the patron saint of all who are prone to overthrowing rock when resolving disputes via rock-paper-scissors. While you now curse God’s name when you realize that you usually lose at what should be a statistically-neutral game, henceforth all such blasphemes will be redirected to me. Amen.
posted by Andrew on 12-12-2007 at 10:16 pm
St. Joe the Navicular. Patron saint of the scaphoid. Stubborn to heal and hard to diagnose, the scaphoid is the most commonly fractured bone in the proximal row of the wrist. When the stubborn ass won’t go see the doctor like his wife tells him to and the condition worsens, perhaps divine intervention will aid recovery and grant humility. St. Joe the Navicular (which the scaphoid was once referred to due to its boatlike shape) will guide this wee wrist bone through multiple surgeries, a bone graft and months of lovely cast wearing.
posted by Joe on 12-12-2007 at 10:38 pm
St. Amy, the patron saint of all of those well-worn soles that had to “had to walk to school, up hill, both ways, in the snow, barefoot, lugging a sack of books bigger than I was…”
You cannot IM/Text me with your pleas for assistance - after all, *I* never had such options of communication… I had to use a PEN/PENCIL and PAPER, for goodness sake!
Long sleeved Pavlov, Womans small
posted by Amy on 12-13-2007 at 12:39 am
I am kudzuhomecomingqueen, patron queen saint of all those non-chosen homecoming, prom, and beauty pageant queens. I am the one who agrees with you when you state, “I shoulda been homecoming queen. Not that second runner-up, who by the way, did her best campaigning in the boys locker room. Me, I tell you. Me.”
posted by kudzuhomecomingqueen on 12-13-2007 at 7:48 am
I am Jennifer Saint of Drunk Calling. Please know that you can call me at 4:30 in the morning after a night of drinking instead of that Ex-Boyfriend who doesn’t care about you anymore (or he would be drinking with you). You can confess to me how much you miss me and love me and then get raging mad and then finally try to make “proposals” just to see them again. I vow to say the right things to make you feel better when you hang up with out the embarrassment the next day!
posted by Jennifer on 12-13-2007 at 9:05 am
I am St. Erin, patron saint of those who cannot skip rocks on water. If you’re tired of being embarrassed because you JUST CAN’T DO IT!!! whisper a prayer to me before you let that rock go, and I will make it skip six times. You will amaze your friends and never be humiliated again.
posted by Erin on 12-13-2007 at 10:47 am
Hence forth I shall be known as St. Brian, he of the overly active perspiration glands. For those of you who do not sweat enough or merely wish to prespire more, a simple envocation of my name will bring sweat pouring from you as if you were a fountain. Let it be so.
posted by Brian on 12-13-2007 at 11:18 am
I am Chewy, patron saint for those who like to eat their earwax and boogers. For those times when your supply is depleted, or if your environs are humid, pray to me and I will replenish your pickin’s.
posted by Chewy on 12-13-2007 at 1:24 pm
I am Tamara, patron saint of library patrons. Lose your library card? Lost your you notebook? Homeless guy’s gibberish getting on your nerves? Hotmail not working? Can’t remember where you left your baby? Bow to me, the goddess of library patrons and I will show give you your answer as well as help you find a book on vegetarian cooking for diabetic cats.
posted by Tamara on 12-13-2007 at 2:01 pm
I am St. Jenny, patron saint of Christmas trees in houses with cats. Pray to me upon sleeping and leaving the house, that the tree shall still be upright upon return. Curse me not upon arrival and seeing tree debris, broken ornaments and chewed family heirlooms sprayed across the floor, but instead pray for the wisdom and guidance to secure your tree to the wall with fishing line. Bow to me and light a candle upon the end of the holiday season when the tree has remained upright, and forget me not the following year when you have 3 cats, 2 dogs, and a toddler.
posted by Jenny on 12-13-2007 at 3:08 pm
I am the patron saint of forgetting your cell phone at home. That terrible feeling that everyone is calling you and you are sitting in traffic trying to get home to check your messages is a feeling you will no longer have to deal with. I assure you that when you get back to your cell phone, there will be not one single missed call, and then you feel a little slighted. Luckily, I’m here to make sure you don’t have that panic about not having your cell phone since I’ll make sure no one calls you.
posted by Heather A on 12-13-2007 at 9:00 pm
I am St.Christopher patron Saint of Bookmobile Librarians. Our materials are all mobile.Our Library card laminator is in the front seat.Our refernce section only has A-J. Our Card catalog is on the roof.I am here to insure that you don’t run out of gas and that the hand me down books you get are a least 20 years old or less.
posted by Christopher Coultas on 12-13-2007 at 10:03 pm
I am St. Christopher patron Saint of urine sample collectors.Pray to me to be able to spot “whizzinators”.To be able to detect the presence of excessive Vitmain B consumption.The ability to avoid the Poppy seed false positive and most importantly to not spill any of it on you accidentally.
posted by chris coultas on 12-13-2007 at 10:06 pm
I am St. Floss. I Saint of Knowledge. When you need an answer, just pray to me and I’ll search the flossy archives. When you have a piece of Spinish stuck between your teeth while on a hot date, pray to me and I’ll floss the leaf away from your date’s memory! Argggh the St. of Knowledge, St. Floss!
posted by Derek Burress on 12-13-2007 at 11:11 pm
I am St. Amandus, patron saint of those who drink three glasses of Shiraz and suddenly feel witty and think they can win contests. Ho hum. All other alcoholic beverage drinkers need not pray to me, as I will not heed your words, only those of the mighty thought provoker, shiraz. Pray to me, my drunken children, and I will help you realize you are neither creative or funny and you should not bother. Amen.
posted by Amandus on 12-13-2007 at 11:17 pm
I am St. Grimm, call upon me when you need just the right product placement for your Folk and Fairy tales. Need just the right flowing blonde tresses of Rapunzel? I can procure them for you from Raquel Welch Wigs or any other purveyors of follical enhancement! Need the perfect ‘Poisoned Apple’ for Snow White’s Evil Queen? I’ll pick through Harry and David’s most succulent Fruit of the Months’ to find it! I’ll wade through Manolo Blaniks to even find the most fitting footwear for The Twelve Dancing Princesses!
Happy endings may not be guaranteed for all who pray to me!
Pavlov Long Sleeve, Womans Small
posted by Amy on 12-13-2007 at 11:58 pm
Kurt, Saint. Patron Saint of Indexes. 149
posted by kehrsam on 12-14-2007 at 5:33 am
Update: Kurt, Saint. Patron Saint of Indexes. 149, 150
posted by kehrsam on 12-14-2007 at 5:35 am
Heed the words of St. Compactus Nissanicus, the Patron Saint of too small parking spaces! All those times you’ve tried to squeeze into tiny parking spaces, knowing you were going to trade paint, and exclaimed “oh God”, I was with you my child, funnelling that request straight to the big guy’s inbox, and preventing such a tragedy. And every time you see the unrepentant park straddled across the line, I smite them with a plague of long stoplights…or flesh eating bacteria. Whichever fairness dictates.
posted by Jason on 12-14-2007 at 8:07 am
Hey, they stopped judging 2 hours ago! What’s with you, St. Compactus?! Don’t make me call on St. Schwartz, the patron saint for people constantly quoting movie lines! Game over, man!
posted by Fel on 12-14-2007 at 10:11 am
Fel,
You know… I was wondering if someone had already mentioned St. Schwartz. Admittedly, I didn’t think of submitting him until *after* the game ended, hence my ‘failure to communicate’ this choice!
posted by Amy on 12-14-2007 at 10:46 pm
Why call disaster upon your heads my fellow wretched ones.Has it not been told you, we are a generation that attacks with insults of things that we do not understand? Woe UNTO us that it has come to pass what was written, woe unto us for all these blasphemies, what then shall we do when the Lamb and the Ancient of Days prevail Their Justice unto us,REPENTance!
posted by lazarus ighacho on 5-27-2008 at 1:31 am