FOB November 30

After well over a month of non-FOB-activity, the FOBs returned from their various sojourns in the challenging world of ice and snow that is Seattle, a bit less certain in their footing, perhaps, but as witty as ever in their condemnation of poor writing. Master Fob began the meeting by promptly leaving to attend to "business" in the back room--perhaps, dealing with a young, religiously maniacal Gwyneth Paltrow? (and a tip o' the hippo to you, Sir Jupiter)--and so the rest of the FOBs frittered time away on such subjects as the weather, the weather, and--um, the weather. Fortunately, after a mere forty minutes had passed, Master Fob returned and the meeting began in earnest.

Master Fob continued his foray into derivitave fiction by chronicalling the thoughts of scary Crow meandering through a landscape that most of the FOBs didn't think was in Kansas anymore, Maggie. Most of the people in the short section were angry at each other, but this problem was quickly overcome by an entire squadron of mice on motorcycles who happened to be--by choice, not nature--transvestites (take that, Beverly Cleary!). This, somehow, made everything better, though Weed pointed out that most mice don't carry two helmets in their saddlebags, if you get our drift. Fortunately, this oversight on Master Fob's part was excused--mostly because, hey, he likes Karen Carpenter, so he can't be racist.

Weed then regaled the combined citizens of FOBbery with the story of a teacher who expresses a "specific interest" in providing one of his students with a "special project." Concerns about pederasty were raised--the FOBaction paused momentarily while Tolkien Boy looked up "pederasty" in the American Collegiate Dictionary--but were swiftly resolved when Weed proposed to add as a character a cross-dressing pedophilic teacher named Ben to act as a foil. Much recitation of Tolkien Boy's brilliant poem ensued, though Master Fob claimed that he would be willing to overlook the disconcerting prose if Weed rewrote the teacher to be more excited, physically. Drawing on years of mass consumer television programming consumption, Sir Jupiter reccommended the inclusion of a plucky neighbor kid or talking animal as a panacea, which the FOBs responded to by going to Tolkien Boy's piece.

Tolkien Boy's submission to FOB was, surprisingly, in present tense--a thing which will no doubt surprise the Marchioness, given Tolkien Boy's usual vitriolic opinions on the subject. In it, two young men run into a fire hydrant with their car and a brick wall with their hearts. After the reading, much discussion about the concept of "bastard" ensued, with Master Fob leading the discussion by drawing diagrams in the air. The collected FOB claimed that there are those who do not judge parties by alcohol content, which is ambiguous in Google searches, and that the Ford Focus line of motor vehicle was native to Europe until the 2000's, which Google verifies. Those who wish to know more about these subjects are encouraged to seek out a local information professional.

Sir Jupiter then announced that his brilliant story had been left in a Taco Bell on his way to FOB. If any of our readership knows of a Taco Bell employee who is attempting to have groundbreaking work published, let us know, so we can begin the plaigarism accusations immediately, before the general rush.

Other than that, we hope that you and yours are having a very Merry December, indeed, and the new year will be a creative one for all.