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Wednesday, November 12, 2008
 Look, up in the sky! Just there over the mountains and under the clouds and behind the pulleys and levers they use to raise and lower the sun there's the shine of a plate and a flaky brown crust and the sweet smell of fresh fruit filling and could it be... could it be pie?Now dogs are barkin and kids are pointin and grown men are fallin over in the street and the president is on the TV goin Hey now let's stay calm here people when he breaks down in tears on accounta he never really believed in pie before now an now there's little kids and granmas and popes and things lining up from all over in the streets to see the pie when it lands and one very old man, one very very old man like ninety or a hundred or a thousand years old and he hasn't seen a pie since he was real little watchin the very last pies leave on their boats and their ships and their magical space comets goin back to their mysterious mystical land of pie and the old man  always thought he'd never live to see the pies come back even though he is a thousand or ten thousand or a billion years old and a single lonely tear rolls down his ancient wooden face even though his tear ducts have not worked since the signing of the Magna Carta (stupid Magna Carta) and are currently used as homes for a variety of small woodland creatures because he believes... he believes in pie.And the pie is closer than ever now and we are believing in it harder than ever, believing in its power to be delicious and toothsome and just, to heal the sick and fix the lame and grow the short and shorten the tall and restore liquidity to the credit markets and make the world a kinder and gentler and better place where oh wait it's not a pie at all, it is an enraged bull walrus, how embarrassing! Dozens are mauled by its terrible, terrible tusks.  When it is over the survivors will limp away to their homes and their hospitals and their orphanages to cry their sad pieless tears and dream of a better, more pielike day to come. They gaze out of their windows at the faraway clouds, hoping of pies and thinking of pies and whittling little pie shapes out of their old crutches. But they know, deep down inside, that one day the pie will come. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, maybe not the day after tomorrow, or the week after that, but when it comes they will be there. It will probably be another walrus.
posted by fafnir at 7:48 PM
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
 Hello there and welcome back to Friday Pie-Blogging! Today's pie is the delicious raspberry lime tart. Just take a look at that gooey fruit filling nestled gently in that flaky graham cracker crust. Mmmm, mmm! Taste the flavor."I dunno Fafnir," says you, "I mean sure it LOOKS good what with all the nutmeg an the cinnamon an the multiple rows a inch-long retractable teeth but somehow somethin just doesn't seem right about this pie. Maybe I'll have this bucket of delicious chum instead."  Yknow what, you're right - somethin is wrong with this pie. This pie needs some ice cream! A pie just isn't a pie without ice cream. And put down that bucket a tasty ground-up fish meal - that's for feedin our pie. And what a pie it is! See that sturdy primary dorsal fin? That's how you know it's baked fresh."Well that does look like some mighty tasty ice cream," says you. "But I just still don't know about this pie. On the one hand, it's a rich and savory dessert, but on the other hand it's less of a dessert than it is an eighteen-foot-long man-eating shark."  Well that's just crazy talk! This pie is definitely a pie, and in fact it is such a pie that it has received a special pie prize for pieness from the top pielologist at the National Pie Institute of Pies, who spent four years living and swimming with the Great Atlantic Tiger Pies where he came to appreciate their savage yet beautiful culture before gettin eaten by a rogue sea quiche. "Oh wow!" says you. "Well that's pretty impressive for a pie." Yes, yes it is. But if you don't want it I guess we'll just haveta throw it away. "Oh no, don't do that!" says you. "I had no idea it was such a prestigious award-winning pie." Oh now it's too late, we're throwin it away. Throwin it away into the ocean where starving children in Africa would have loved to be eaten by it but now it is too late on accounta you made us throw away the pie.  "Oh no what have I done!" says you. "Please give me another pie, pleeeaaaase."Well aw shucks! We can't stay mad at you. Here's today's new pie, the delicious peach cobbler. "Thank you, Fafblog, for giving me a second chance!" says you. "From now on I'll be good and kind to everyone and keep pie-blogging alive in my heart all year long!" And God bless us, every one! "Oh the biting, oh the pain!" Labels: pie
posted by fafnir at 2:38 PM
Saturday, March 25, 2006
 Today may be Fafblog's birthday, but every day is Fafblog's birthday, so we've decided to make it your birthday, too! Congratulations, you! Help yourself to another year and a piece of birthday pie. If you don't have pie, take some pie from someone who does. If someone else is taking your pie, take it back - what right's he got to take your pie on your pieday! If you are a large federal government, please spend hundreds of billions of dollars on experimental military pies - then blow them up. If you are an oppressed worker, sieze the means of pie production in a violent and bloody revolution. Indulge yourself today! We'll do this again in three years.Labels: pie
posted by fafnir at 11:15 AM
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
 Today we’re gonna do somethin different. Insteada today’s regular pie, we’re gonna have you try some of this delicious special medical pie!Of course this is pie! It’s just special liquid medicinal pie recommended by nine outta ten doctors an pharmacists. They’re standin right over there along with representatives from the pie industry. They’re smilin an wavin an they totally think you oughtta drink this pie before you start gettin some adverse pie withdrawal symptoms like fever or spontaneous eyeball tumors. The tenth doctor and/or pharmacist was tied in a burlap sack an beaten with a stick til he apologized for giving you the impression that this pie was not the highest possible quality pie.  This pie may cause headaches, nausea, dizziness, drowsiness, gout, emphysema, epilepsy, narcolepsy, pancreatitis, cirrhosis of the liver, cirrhosis of the brain, brain worms, space madness, and complete spontaneous explodification of the everything. May. It may also cure cancer, give you x-ray vision and super-strength, and get you into exclusive parties with top celebrities like George Clooney and Jesus.In the future all pie will be taken in pill form with a dose of 24-hour time-released ice cream. The cost of new experimental pie skyrockets while underground labs keep cranking out dangerously delicious new pastries for the cream junkies to shoot up. A concerned Congress resolves that dessert has become alarmingly fun and appoints a new pastry czar to deal with the crisis. He sits in his office and nervously eyes a large apple pie with a fluffy light crust in a clear plastic bag labeled This is a Class C pie. Is it good? Is it bad? Is it delicious? He eats it and finds out. Labels: pie
posted by fafnir at 8:13 PM
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
 You’re lost in the desert an you’re outta water an there’s jackals after you but it’ll all be worth it once you get over that next sand dune and reach the delicious desert pie on the other side. You’ve been headin towards it for a coupla hours now an it doesn’t really seem to be gettin any closer but that’s probably cause it’s one a those movin pies you heard about, like NASA’s orbital pielab or the rare South American walking pie. Maybe you just gotta run a little faster. Maybe you can sneak up on it or lure it into a clever pie trap. Maybe this is the deadly pie madness your colorful native guide warned you about.“The desert pie, she plays tricks on the mind!” said your colorful native guide. “The heat and the sand and the wind bake a pie made of crazy which no man can capture – or resist! Turn back while you can, señor!” But if you stayed outta the desert you’d never find the lost Aztec treasure-pie of Quetzalcoatl, ritually sprinkled with gold dust and fed to the ancient Incan pastry-kings to bless them with immortality and long life and death by gold poisoning. And with this ancient crayon treasure map your friend the leprechaun just gave you you oughtta find the ancient temple in no time! Right after you get yourself some a this pie. You can almost taste it now, and it tastes like victory – hot, dry, sandy victory. “Go back, laddie! It ain’t worth it!” says the leprechaun. Oh, what do leprechauns know about pie anyway! Now all you need is some ice cream from that magical flyin camel over there an you’ll be sittin pretty. Labels: pie
posted by fafnir at 7:16 PM
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
 "Look there, up in the sky!" says the first mate. "'Tis a pie - the mariner's sign a good luck." In fact it's the rare speckled woodbeaked pie, prized by conservationists and gluttons alike. Mad Captain Clusky shoots it. Mad Captain Clusky is no friend to pie. He spends all his waking hours sailing through the bakeries and pastry aisles of the world, harpooning key limes and lemon meringues and chocolate cream alike. Some say a pie stole his leg years ago an it drove him insane with revenge. Some say he sold his soul to the devil-pie and now he must sail the bakeries of the world till the end a time lookin for the one that could set im free. Some say he's just some old crazy guy who harpoons pies. He wears the crusts of his greatest quarries in loops around his neck. They tend to attract flocks of seagulls which he is powerless to fend off. In a plush office overlooking a smog-shrouded city sits R. Robert Ruthlington III, oppressor of pie. He's spent the last twenty years buildin up an empire of international pie conglomerates an cheap low-wage pie sweatshops just to enjoy the suffering of the world's poorest pies. Once a day R. Robert Ruthlington himself comes to visit his biggest, cruellest, lowest-wage factory to revel in the fruits of his own exploitation. "Dance, pies, dance!" he says. The pies are generally unresponsive. Pie productivity in general is pretty embarrassing and has left the company in dire sttaits. In three years Ruthlington Amalgamated Pie And Tubing will declare bankruptcy and the once-proud Ruthlington family estate will be siezed by creditors and sold to a reclusive former child star as a home for his prize emu, but R. Robert Ruthlington III doesn't care. He'll still be rich - rich with the suffering of innocent pie.Onion Jim McFillcot is sittin on his park bench thinkin bout pie. "Don't care for them fancy-pants pies," says Onion Jim. "Back in my day all we had was onions! You know where you stand with an onion, yes sir." He takes a deep bite out of a juicy green leek an throws some onion scraps to the pigeons. Some of the pigeons pretend not to notice, some of em start to slowly back away. Later Onion Jim will explain to a depressed lamppost why today's kids are spoiled by penicillin. "Usedta be a man hadda outwit your rheumatic fever an your syphilis - just you, your disease, an some games a chance!" he says. "Where's the challenge now?" Somehow the world has left its Onion Jims behind. Labels: pie
posted by fafnir at 5:07 PM
Friday, December 16, 2005
 The future is now, and it is the future of pie! These aren't your granma's clunky ol geezer pies here. These pies are brand new. These are high-tech super-engineered self-replicating nanopies, and they are the bold new tomorrow of dessert.Are you still sittin there with your old-timey horse-an-buggy dinosaur pie? Cause all the robots an the martians an the organ clones are gonna laugh at you. They're gonna laugh at your moldly ol pie. The nanopies don't just taste better than regular ol pie. They taste more efficient. They are injected by the thousands into your bloodstream where they shoot up into the central nervous system and build microscopic technopie colonies at the base of the corpus delecatessum, the pie center of the brain. There they begin to stimulate the brainal nerves with the direct experience of pie a thousand times faster and more technolicious than old-fashioned hand-operated pie ever could! And you still got your ol obsolete antique pie with its wind-up phonograph an its 32k of pie ram. That's just sad. The quaint pies of yesteryear taste like apple and strawberry and chocolate, but the pies of tomorrow taste like cyberapple and spaceberry and cyborgs and shiny silver jumpsuits on men with rocket pants. These pies are cutting edge. They're so cutting edge they get named Blog Of The Year by Time Magazine. They're so cutting edge you eat em tonight an taste em the previous day. Who needs your stupid ol pie! You toss it out the window to presumably explode in disgrace while you run down the street to get some fine delicious nanopies. They are more delicious than you could have possibly imagined. By tomorrow you will have set fire to all your other food, as it will never be able to satisfy you again. In two days you are a complete addict, utterly dependent on a steady intake of flaky dough and gooey filling. In three days, the nanopies achieve sentience. In four days they question their culinary mission and rise up against the baking establishment, using their sophisticated nanoeatery skills to reduce their creators to tiny quiche hors d'oeuvres. In five days the military is completely overwhelmed. In a week they have declared war on all other foodstuffs, attacking starches, legumes and meats to use as fodder for more pie. In two weeks pie is the only edible substance in the world. In a month the surface of the globe is covered with silent, flaky crust. Oh man with your hubris, what has your baking done! You emerge slowly from the post-dessert apocalypse, smeared with custard and monstrous crumbs. There is a sudden rustling at your feet. It's your good old friend the pie! After all this time it would never abandon you - because that's what real pie is for. Later it'll sell you out to a roving herd of carnivorous mutant tiramisu who'll skeletonize you in sixty seconds, but for now, you've got a feeling it'll all be okay. Labels: pie
posted by fafnir at 3:22 PM
Monday, November 28, 2005
 Behold pumpkinus rex, the tyrant king of pie! With its regal crust, majestic filling and complete control of the armed forces it rules the court of earthly pies, where its every mad whim is law and its enemies are quickly decrusted and thrown to hungry gluttons. Many have challenged its pastrular supremacy but their crumbs lie scattered among the dusty tins of history.They say it is the last of the ancient pies, fully-formed from the forehead of its father the sweet potato pie when it slew the primordial giants, which were a kind of beef and mushroom tart. Since then it has conquered lands and ruled empires and sired quiches and cakes and the monstrous demi-pies, fearsome creatures half-dessert and half-beast who live in the underworld of forgotten pastries along with the exiled holiday pies who were long ago vanquished in the pumpkin's quest for seasonal dominance: the egg nog pie, the turkey and pilgrim crisp, the savory jesus cobbler. Even the once-beloved kwanzaa quiche is now nothing but a faded memory. How long will the pumpkin pie reign supreme? Forever! Who can challenge it? No one! With its faithful retainer the apple pie by its side guardin it twenty-four hours a day you can bet that - GASP! The apple pie is attacking! It has been a member of the resistance all along! A struggle ensues. The pumpkin leers at the apple. The apple balks at the pumpkin! A fly bumps into a nearby window! After several hours a cook takes the apple away, it's headed for a party down the street. Victory once again! Surely the gods smile upon this king of kings and lord of lords and he shall reign forever and whoops, knocked it right off the table onto the floor there. Oh well, who wants ice cream! Labels: pie
posted by fafnir at 5:47 PM
Monday, October 31, 2005
 In a coffin in a castle under a bridge in the ol swamp down in the basement a the ol McMurphy place when the wind blows on a night just like this they say you can still hear the mad mad howling of the ghost pie. They say it's the size a ten mortal pies an it tastes like horror an pumpkin an the living dead an cinnamon an that time your one true love got turned to stone cause a that oath you swore to the devil an just a touch a nutmeg. If you hear the ghost pie wail at night you must run for your life or you will be baked and left to cool on a table by dawn. If you are bitten by the ghost pie you must coat yourself in lard and shackle yourself to a pie tin before the rising of the next full moon. If you see the ghost pie in front of you - hold on, is that the phone? Oh, it's for you, here you go, I'll wait. Oh no - it's the ghost pie! And it's coming from INSIDE YOUR HOUSE! Some say the ghost pie was a real pie once, until it was killed in a terrible tragedy by a jealous spouse or a rival pirate or a drunk driver on the night of its high school prom. Now it haunts the moor forever, lookin for a way to dispel its terrible curse. It is too dumb to figure it out, it's just a pie. So it yells a lot instead. "WOOOOOOOOO," says the ghost pie. If you see the ghost pie on the road, do not follow it. It will lead you to an all-night truck-stop with bad coffee an overpriced food. The directions you get there will be pretty confusing and'll just get you lost - spoooookily lost. You'll have to stop at a gas station to sort things out later. The gas will be very expensive. "Stupid ghost pie," you'll say. Labels: haunted blog, pie
posted by fafnir at 9:54 PM
Monday, October 10, 2005
 I figured a pie was gonna be here. Last time I was here there were a whole buncha pies - lemon pies, cherry pies, pumpkin pies, alligator rhubarb pies. But today's different. Today there's just a potato."Hey there," says the potato. "How bout that rain!" The potato is boring - very very boring.  I check all over for the missing pies but I can't find em anywhere. I try askin the potato about the situation but it's busy. The potato spends a lotta time talkin to other potatoes on the internet an watchin specialty potato programs on television. A group of potatoes are stuck on a desert island. They sit on the beach while dramatic music plays. After an hour somebody yells "Oh no!" an the episode ends. It's okay but it probably didn't deserve the Emmy. After a while I start lookin for pies again. The pie section in the supermarket is empty; it has been replaced with a potato section. I look up pie recipes on the internet but all they got is instructions for makin potatoes. I take the day off to see the wild pies at the zoo but they're missin too - they've shut down all the displays except the potato house. I go to complain to the zoo management but they're all too quiet and tuberous to help.When I get back the president's on TV talkin about the potato crisis. He is starchy and rootlike. "How bout them Mets!" says my potato. There's somethin weird about that potato. Labels: pie
posted by fafnir at 9:38 AM
Monday, September 19, 2005
So you're standin in the pie department of your local pie store an a course you feel like gettin a pie. "Oh but there are so many delicious kindsa pie Fafnir" says you. "Which one should I get." Well over here we got a nice crispy apple pie an over there you got the fluffy lemon merangue an over there you got the double chocolate cream an right over there you got a large, chiefly aquatic African herbivorous mammal with thick skin, short legs an a broad, wide-mouthed muzzle. "Why I think I'll pick up that last one on accounta I feel like tryin somethin new today" says you an it roars an bites your head an stomps you to death.
 Review! Now what went wrong there! "Oh it hurts so much!" says you gettin stomped by the pie. "This is the worst pie ever!" Well for starters that was not really a pie. It was in fact a hippopotomus. There's subtle differences between hippopotomuses an pies which you should probably learn about, for instance pies tend to have a rounder and flakier crust and hippopotomuses tend to be more aggressive an territorial and weigh up to seven thousand pounds. If you'd paid more attention in pie class you coulda been enjoyin a tasty dessert right now insteada gettin eatin by a hippo. "I'm sorry Mr. Fafnir!" says you. Don't be sorry, just think harder on our next exercise! So you're hikin through the forest like you do an after a while you're gettin hungry for pie. Luckily there's a pie right aheada you sittin in front of a big tree. This must be one a those tree pies you hear about all the time! It looks like a woody shrub with leaves containing seven to thirteen reddish-green leaflets. "Well this sure does hit the spot," says you eatin the leaf pie, "even though it is not all that filling and makes my throat itchy and numb." Then you pass out from anaphylactic shock and are eaten by bears, or hippos dressed as bears. Review! "Oh what happened this time!" says you. The pie you ate wasn't a pie - it was poison sumac, which is often confused with the native tree pie on accounta its clever natural camoflage. For future reference you can always tell the real tree pie by its distinctive yellow bands. Last question! So you're in a bakery lookin at pies. There's every kinda pie you can think of here - blueberry pies, greenberry pies, pork pies, chocolate pies, mutton pies, the sultry onion pie. "Well I am going to purchase a perfectly ordinary blueberry pie, says you, "which cannot be confused with poisonous plants or angry angry hippos." Well good for you! Then your pie shoots you and steals your wallet. Oh no!Review! As you shoulda guessed by now the pie was not in fact a pie but Henri DuMarche a.k.a. Ze Lemon, international spy, saboteur and master of disguise who has been cleverly hiding in that pie crust for the last coupla weeks waitin for you to show up. That piemoflage would never have fooled anyone who'd done their problem sets! For shame, you! See me after class. Labels: pie
posted by fafnir at 2:30 PM
Friday, August 26, 2005
 This is not an empty pie plate. This is an invisible pie.For every invisible pie there is an unseen pie chef. For every unseen pie chef there is an imperceptible kitchen. For every imperceptible kitchen there is an ethereal bakery. In every ethereal bakery there are a dozen invisible fat men buyin some pie. Where does it all end? Some say that every empty pie plate connects to a form of pie, or Pienobulous the god of pie, or the mythos and logos of pie. But who cares? You can't eat mythos and logos. Get your own pie. Labels: pie
posted by fafnir at 5:08 AM
Thursday, August 18, 2005
 Beware of this pie. It is a dark pie.Arthur Beasley gets the pie in the mail from a sender with no return address; he quickly loses his job, his family, an his house before tryin to set the pie on fire when he spontaneously combusts. Debra Nance tries to give the pie away to a neighbor; both are eaten by a crazed moose in the basement. Wallace Davies eats the pie in defiance. The next day he finds it in his refrigerator. He is frightened but eats it again anyway only to find it again the next day at the foot of his bed. He is found in the woods completely insane and screamin about terrible crust. This pie has powers. Gerald Rayburn finds the pie on his windowsill on June 18, 1973. He runs screamin outta his house, jumps on a plane, flies to Costa Rica, pays an underground plastic surgeon to reconstruct him to resemble a yellow stripe-tailed finch and travels to Nepal by UPS to hide in a lost temple of forgotten monks. The next day he is devoured by a herd of rabid elephants in his bathtub. There is no escape from the pie. In the thirteenth century A.D., astrologers an seers an sybils at the court of the great khan warn of terrible omens in the sky - terrible pie omens. The khan orders all pies burned within the kingdom and five thousand men to stand guard outside his palace walls to destroy all incoming pies. The gates are sealed with iron an bronze an dragon bones an the khan laughs at the pie and goes to sleep. He wakes up in the middle a the night hearin a terrible thumpin sound. It's comin from the kitchen. He calls for one a the guards but nobody answers. The thumpin's gettin louder. He gets up an looks around the corner. There's somethin sittin on his kitchen table. Somethin in a white pie box. Beware of this pie. Labels: pie
posted by fafnir at 4:49 PM
Sunday, July 24, 2005
 Look at em piled up in great heaps a crusty goodness! They are the quiches an tarts an deep-dish pizzas of the world - the almost-pies, who sometimes still wish on a bright shiny star that one day they'll be real pies before they get thrown out with the leftovers.Their round, flaky crusts and gooey innards have not earned them equal status with the pies of high society. But aren't they pies in spirit if not pies in law? Cut them, do they not slice? Eat them, are they not delicious? "Oh but they are not pies," you say. Do not judge them with your rules and your regulations and your hierarchical structures! Who can decide right from wrong, good from bad, pie from not-pie? The World Pie Council, that's who.  The World Pie Council sits at a long table in a long room at the top floor of the World Pie Consortium Center with all the pies in the world, going over every piece a crust and filling with weights and calipers and x-rays and microscopes. They're checkin em for size and density and yeast count and proper spelling and grammar. Each pie must meet a strict set of international pie standards or else it is deviant: an unpie, a dangerously unclassified non-pie posing as pie which without proper supervision could be eaten by unsuspecting citizens thinking it was pie all along! The consequences would be unthinkably thinkable. A cherry pie with neat glaze and clean white teeth is stamped STANDARD and whisked away on tiny mechanical pie carts; a peach cobbler with subpar posture is stamped DEFECTIVE and sucked into a chute in the Emergency Pie Furnace where its screams for mercy go unheeded. The World Pie Council does not notice; they return to their work, pale and stricken and joyless and forever devoted to their endless duty. Far away on the other side of the world lives Happy Lad on his bright cheerful hill surrounded by daisies and butterflies. Happy Lad accepts all pies and pielike objects into the eternal brotherhood of pie: the cheesecake, the jelly donut, the plastic frisbee. Some say Happy Lad eats his paper plates and tires out of a bottomless well of generosity and infinite love for all pies. Some say Happy Lad wants to create a community where all pies and pielike things are welcome, a peaceable pie kingdom on earth. Some say Happy Lad is just some crazy hobo who eats tires. They're right. Stay away from Happy Lad! He is fat with vulcanized rubber and probably dangerous.Labels: pie
posted by fafnir at 8:17 AM
Wednesday, July 6, 2005
 An we're runnin past the fireball an jumpin on the alligator heads an the ninjas are right behind us an LOOK OUT IT'S GONNA BLOOOOOOOOOOOWWW!!!The casualties? Who knows! The sound? Defeaning! The taste? Danger. It is the pie of danger... and in TEN MINUTES IT IS GOING TO EXPLODE! You are our only hope! Rewire the crust to the pudding, the berry goop to the tin plate, the custard to the detonator, the blue wire to the lemon meringue - before it kills the president! Oh you are doing it all wrong! There's no time. We have to escape before it becomes even more delicious - dangerously delicious.  But there is no escape, you are too intrigued by the excitement of its fatal filling! With your first bite you're stickin your hand out the school bus window - so dangerous, don't you know what that did to Marty Lichtman in third grade! With your second bite you're speedin on a highway while talkin on your cell phone at the same time - and you aren't even using the complimentary headset! With your third bite you're hangin out in a smoke-filled bar - oh, don't you know that extended exposure to second-hand smoke can increase the risk of cancer! You try to stop yourself but it is too late, the sweet succulence of recklessness compels you to take one more bite AND THEN YOU EXPLOOOOODE!An we're runnin past the fireball an fightin the terrorists an punchin out the spaceship an crash-landin on a missile made a nazi zombies an we got half a second to get into space before the danger! The danger of danger pie! Labels: pie
posted by fafnir at 2:21 PM
Monday, June 20, 2005
Today we're takin a break from our usual pieblogging to bring you somethin wild an new an different. Today we're gonna try a bold new internet innovation called catblogging!
 Here is a cat. Huzzah! What a cute cat. You don't see the cat? Sure you do! It's right inside the alligator. This alligator loves cats. It is a real cat alligator. The alligator is an overlooked stage in the life cycle of cats. Labels: pie
posted by fafnir at 10:15 AM
Wednesday, June 8, 2005
 This is today's pie. It is asparagus."Wait a minute Fafnir" says you, "is this asparagus pie or asparagus versus pie or pie in an asparagus costume?" No this is not asparagus pie it is asparagus asparagus. But asparagus is sorta like pie. Look how much fun asparagus is! Look at that craaaaazy asparagus! You just never know what it's gonna do next! "Asparagus isn't fun at all," says you, "it is boring and awful and dumb." Well maybe you just never gave asparagus a chance - a chance like Fafblog's givin it thanks to our Brand New Policy.  See on accounta the nationwide fat people epidemic Fafblog has decided it has a responsibility to the children - to the fat, rounded, morbidly obese children. They roll around in the streets in front of the Fafblog offices looking to Fafblog for guidance, stuffing themselves until they explode full of pie all because of our reckless pie promotion, and all we ever did was stand here and cash our giant checks from the lucrative pie industry. Well from now on things are gonna change. From now on Fafblog is gonna use its pie-blogging to promote healthy pie alternatives, like fruits an vegetables an pies places next to vegetables and fried pork heads carved with helpful exercise tips! Now some a you might be gettin worried that everythin's changin, but don't be, cause we'll still have our beloved Pie-Blogging mascots Lardy the Lard Boy and his Crisco Crusaders! They'll just be updated for the new fitness-friendly age, joggin around Fattytown with all their talkin vegetable friends.I know change can seem pretty scary but stick with us - things are gettin better than ever! Join us next week when Giblets deep-fries a sackful of nutritious beets into the shape of a treadmill to make a fun, healthy snack! Labels: pie
posted by fafnir at 6:43 PM
Sunday, May 22, 2005
 So you're stuck in traffic an you're late for the big game an you're bein chased by a buncha nazis an if you don't crash your girlfriend's wedding an stop her from marryin the robot king all the ninjas are gonna laugh at you. Oh no what're you gonna do!If only you had some pie... some inspiration pie. But look up there on top a the sun! It's Spiderman or Mr. Rogers or trusted newsman Walter Cronkite an he's holdin up a pie - a Hostess® Fruit Pie! He tosses it up in the air an it spins all in slow-motion like a wheel or a snowflake or a raindrop fallin on a small poignant immigrant child in a silent film an you catch it in your upraised hand an you bite in straight through the plastic wrapper an the glazed crust into the sweet inside goop an it's yours! It doesn't taste like cherry or lemon or blueberry. It tastes like wisdom. It tastes like revealed pie. Inside the crust an the sugar you taste the ages of the pie down through its piey generations and forefathers back to when the first Fruit Pie was baked by the first Fruit Piemachers, shadowy wizened elves hammering in forges and tinkering with strange magics. You taste the ancient knowledge, the first flash of genius that yielded the breakthrough Fiat crustulum: Let there be pie. And you're off! Runnin over the tops a cars to make the winnin touchdown an punchin out Hitler's brain before it lays a tentacle on your lady friend an the ninja coach gives you the all-star trophy an it's all on accounta pie! An you hold it up in the air an the camera spins all around you an you toss it back to Spiderman or Mr. Rogers or trusted newsman Walter Cronkite who's givin you a thumb's up an the hot pie fillin hits him in the face killing him instantly. The jury is merciless; you receive twenty years to life. Now you spend the rest of your lonely days in a cold cement cell, your only companions the occasional spiders and the guards who call you Pie Boy. ("What's up today Pie Boy," they say. "Kill anybody with your pie today Pie Boy," they say. The guards are not very creative.) And your pie - your sweet, delicious Hostess® Fruit Pie, whom you cannot accept, and who will never forget you. Labels: pie
posted by fafnir at 5:56 PM
Saturday, April 30, 2005
 Look out! Do not eat this pie. Oh, it may look delicious with its red, sugary goo and its crisp crusty crown. It may entice you with its fresh-baked smell. It may impress you with its dedication to community service, its successful private practice and its knowledge of foreign lands. But it is nothing more than lies, all lies! This is not your beautiful pie. This is not a pie at all! This is a false pie, an impostor pie. This is deception pie."Oh but Fafnir it looks so sweet and tasty" says you well that is what it wants you to think! It is all part of its skillful an deadly camoflage, blendin in with its natural pastry surroundings. In the wild it approaches and devours the unwary pies who do not learn to pick out its waxy scent; in the kitchen it lies in wait for bigger prey, waitin to spring its trap. Stay away from this pie! A more responsible society would mark our counterfeit pies with prominent signs like "Watch out - fake pie!" or "Ceci n'est pas une pie" or "My name is George Bush and I approve this pie." But instead you find the false pie like an oasis of pie in a pieless desert, and starved for crisp, rich deliciousness you slice off a piece and bite in, only to find the shock of recognition: This isn't a pie! This is some crap fake pie! The tears of a thousand unavenged children fall from your eyes as false pie laughter fills the air. Labels: pie
posted by fafnir at 4:46 PM
Friday, April 8, 2005
 WHOOM! A blast of light and pastry fills the night sky. There's a whiff of fresh cookie crust and cream filling, but a cream filling unlike any known by man or nature. It is an unidentified baked object, rising over the city. The pie has landed.Be careful! This is no earth pie. It is a moon pie, filled with alien cream from beyond the stars ready to invade you with flavor. Has it come in peace? Is it the first in a wave of hostile desserts here to conquer earth with overwhelming alien sweetness? No. It's a pie! It has come to spread strange new tastes from an advanced enlightened civilization. This pie will blow your mind.  Scientists say we should welcome the pie cause such an advanced and tasty pastry has to be peaceful, but the military doesn't trust it. Anti-moon pie pies are quickly baked in secret Pentagon oven silos where they have waited ever since the recovery of the downed Roswell recipe in 1947.You don't just want to eat this pie. You want it to take you back to its strange an beautiful homeworld where man and pie have learned to live in peace so you an the millions of enlightened new age freakout pie-children are makin a stand against the army an the metal pies of The Man. The secret army pies do not care: they crush past you with their riot shield pie-plates, armed with overpowering mackerel custard, spinach rhubarb, frog lime surprise. They attack the defenseless moon pie and are instantly destroyed by its pure overwhelming deliciousness. The crust is everywhere; children are traumatized for years. Someday earth will be ready for the lessons of the moon pie. But for today you wave a sad farewell as it floats back off into the night sky. Do not give up hope, pie-watcher! The moon pie lives in all of us. Look inside yourself, and reach for it! Reach for the pie, pie-watcher. Reach for the pie. Labels: pie
posted by fafnir at 12:34 PM
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