FOB October 26th
Fox 13 Salt Lake City, that bastion of good taste and high morals, has slithered yet again down that slippery slope of shameless ratings-mongering and featured Master Fob and his lovely family in one of their reporting spots. Yes, Ottorians, FOBWashington is now FOBWashington--As Seen On TV! Of course, and to the disappointment of many fans, the devilishly handsome King of Queen Anne, Weed, and Tolkien Boy were not part of the cast of thousands that performed this epic miniseries, but adherents were allowed a glimpse of the Fobcave, where the bulk of fobwork is performed. Additionally, Master Fob was able to assuage his mammoth ego, knowing that somewhere, someone was writing angry retributive things about the immorality of his chosen lifestyle.
Immediately after this reporting romp, Tolkien Boy arrived with his comically enlarged contribution to the weekly work, which he shoved under the couch, knowing full well that anyone with the eyesight of a cataracted octogenarian could read the script in full at fifty paces. Master Fob, Foxy J, and the irrepressible S-Boogie kept him company until the eleventh-hour arrival of the equally irrepressible Weed and his family.
The FOBs began with a rollicking story by Tolkien Boy in which a conflicted couple seek relief from their woes of incompatibility, and end up resorting to the kiss of a prince who charms the wife but freaks out the husband. Much umbrage came from the collected FOB concerning Tolkien Boy's remarkably top-heavy prose, but as no one made unflattering comparisons to Dolly Parton, Tolkien Boy's confidence was largely unscathed. Scathing occurred, however, when the peach-business-suit-wearing professor was called "too cute," and Tolkien Boy went into a snit that lasted at least ten seconds.
Master Fob surprised us next by delivering a tripartied story in which a weepy black man (straight, for interested parties) was put on a "list" by a motorcycle-driving mouse in drag, a girl walked out of a poppy-laden field to the skirt-stirring refrain of a dry, dusty wind, and a lion carried a puppy on its back. Rightfully claiming the work to be a new triumph in children's literature, the FOBs quibbled over whether the word "gibe" was appropriate for a work of such towering significance. And whether the obvious inferences surrounding things of towering significance applied to Master Fob's writing.
Weed then regaled the FOB with a story about a father's death and a teen's intervention. This confused Tolkien Boy, whose only experience with an intervention came in the form of of a play about reparative therapy written by Carol Lynn Pearson, and so when the teacher in the story bearing Tolkien Boy's name began making meaningful smiles at the teen in question, it all became murky until he learned that this happens often in junior high schools. Academic intervention, that is, not the other stuff of towering significance.
FOB hilarity grew even more hilarious when the King of Queen Anne arrived, though his arrival was met with the reduced hilarity of the Weedfamily, as they left when he arrived. Correlations to the King's hygiene habits and the Weeds's hasty departure were not made, but we're fairly sure Master Fob was thinking them. The depeleted and additionalied FOB stayed up till midnight, recalling the good times and forgetting the bad.
Of course, this wouldn't be a proper fobpost without a shoutout to all our kith and kin scattered across the globe. We hope you all take time out of your busy schedules to watch Master Fob and his family express mixed orientation bliss on your television sets or Internet-capable computers. Remember, it's the least you can do to make sure that FOB continues healthy and strong. WRITERS OF THE WORLD, UNITE!
Immediately after this reporting romp, Tolkien Boy arrived with his comically enlarged contribution to the weekly work, which he shoved under the couch, knowing full well that anyone with the eyesight of a cataracted octogenarian could read the script in full at fifty paces. Master Fob, Foxy J, and the irrepressible S-Boogie kept him company until the eleventh-hour arrival of the equally irrepressible Weed and his family.
The FOBs began with a rollicking story by Tolkien Boy in which a conflicted couple seek relief from their woes of incompatibility, and end up resorting to the kiss of a prince who charms the wife but freaks out the husband. Much umbrage came from the collected FOB concerning Tolkien Boy's remarkably top-heavy prose, but as no one made unflattering comparisons to Dolly Parton, Tolkien Boy's confidence was largely unscathed. Scathing occurred, however, when the peach-business-suit-wearing professor was called "too cute," and Tolkien Boy went into a snit that lasted at least ten seconds.
Master Fob surprised us next by delivering a tripartied story in which a weepy black man (straight, for interested parties) was put on a "list" by a motorcycle-driving mouse in drag, a girl walked out of a poppy-laden field to the skirt-stirring refrain of a dry, dusty wind, and a lion carried a puppy on its back. Rightfully claiming the work to be a new triumph in children's literature, the FOBs quibbled over whether the word "gibe" was appropriate for a work of such towering significance. And whether the obvious inferences surrounding things of towering significance applied to Master Fob's writing.
Weed then regaled the FOB with a story about a father's death and a teen's intervention. This confused Tolkien Boy, whose only experience with an intervention came in the form of of a play about reparative therapy written by Carol Lynn Pearson, and so when the teacher in the story bearing Tolkien Boy's name began making meaningful smiles at the teen in question, it all became murky until he learned that this happens often in junior high schools. Academic intervention, that is, not the other stuff of towering significance.
FOB hilarity grew even more hilarious when the King of Queen Anne arrived, though his arrival was met with the reduced hilarity of the Weedfamily, as they left when he arrived. Correlations to the King's hygiene habits and the Weeds's hasty departure were not made, but we're fairly sure Master Fob was thinking them. The depeleted and additionalied FOB stayed up till midnight, recalling the good times and forgetting the bad.
Of course, this wouldn't be a proper fobpost without a shoutout to all our kith and kin scattered across the globe. We hope you all take time out of your busy schedules to watch Master Fob and his family express mixed orientation bliss on your television sets or Internet-capable computers. Remember, it's the least you can do to make sure that FOB continues healthy and strong. WRITERS OF THE WORLD, UNITE!
posted by Tolkien Boy at 10/29/2006 07:50:00 PM
3 Comments:
.
Consider us united.
Wish I was there.
So...how and when? I wanna see.
And I find it disturbing that in FOB Northwest someone has joined who apparently doesn't know that there is already a Queen. Can I be replaced so easily?? And by...a man??
"That's no lady, she's a man, MAN!"
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