Presenting, straight from the Couch Asylum...the Jaters 23 Psalm

Call the men with the coats. Prepare the padded rooms. And try not to bust a rib. You know. From the laughing.
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Jate are my Shepherds; I shall not want.

They maketh me to lie down in green putting greens: they leadeth me inside the steamy shower rooms.

They restoreth my soul: they leadeth me in the paths of true romance for their ship's sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of Skate, I will fear no skex: for they are with me; their slings and their quava seeds they comfort me.

They preparest a jungle net of love in the presence of mine enemies: they stitcheth my wounds with standard black thread; my water bottle runneth over.

Surely 'verbal copulation' and 'something real' shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of Jate for ever.