Tuesday, April 1, 2008
"Screw this dump!" says Giblets. "This universe is old and fat and smells like smelling and Giblets is busting out!"
"Should we go over the wall or take the tunnel?" says me. I been diggin a tunnel. "Nuts to the tunnel!" says Giblets. "What we do is we make like we're sick. Then when God comes in to check on us we punch im in the liver an run out the door!" "They'll be on the lookout so we're gonna need disguises if we wanna make it the resta the way," says me. "If we bop Europe an Australia on the head we can sneak out in their continent costumes!" "Then it's only three hundred eighty thousand miles to the moon. We can swim for it!" says Giblets. "Giblets's crater friends can smuggle us to the border from there." "We'll haveta travel undercover if we wanna stay aheada the law," says me. "By the time we reach the checkpoint I'll be Henri DuMarche, international financier, socialite and diamond thief, an you can be NGC 5024, a mild-mannered globular cluster." "The guards will suspect nothing!" says Giblets. "At least not til a stray gust of wind dislodges our fake plastic mustaches at the last minute and blows our cover in fronta the feds." "That's when they'll hit the alarm an call the cops an the marines an Jesus an Batman an everybody," says me. "They'll be parked on the border in their uparmored emergency defense nukes givin us one last chance to surrender before they preemptively retaliate against our potential refusal to surrender." "But we'll just fire up our '67 T-Bird and head for the barricades yelling 'come and get us copper'!" says Giblets. "Which is when they will get us," says me. "With their many, many guns and bullets." "The bullets will hit us in slow motion from many different camera angles to the sound of a grinding guitar solo to indicate that we are bad bad dudes who lived a bad bad life," says Giblets. "But not so bad it can't be replayed in our last moments in the form of a tastefully-edited montage of our most poignant flashbacks," says me. "Giblets will regret nothing!" says Giblets. "Except for the getting killed part, that was real stupid." "They'll bury us in a special live TV press conference with senators an popes an the President of Space," says me. "And there'll be cake an music an dancin bears an a crack team a animatronic talkin news generals to tell everybody about this bold new victory in the War on Us!" "It's true," says Giblets. "We were a menace to our freedom and had to be stopped before we could threaten us again." "But there could be even more of us out there right now, doin things an being stuff!" says me. "And none of us can sleep at night till all of us have been brought to justice." "The army and the FBI and the space police will explain it all in loud slow voices over our tastefully-laminated corpses so the world can understand the dire threat it poses to the world," says Giblets. "Which is when they'll notice those aren't our corpses at all," says me, "but clever papier-mache dummy corpses we got to escape for us back when we took the tunnel." "Huzzah for the tunnel!" says Giblets. "It was Giblets's finest hour!" "While the cops're distracted we'll sneak out with a coupla billion of our closest friends an punch out the sun in the guard tower," says me. "Then we can go back an bust the rest out an topple the ancien régime!" "The triumphant cry of revolution will call out through the streets: Vive Fáfnir! Vive Gibléts!" says Giblets. "Radical Fafbloggists will demand a new era of Fafno-Gibletsian rule over the cosmos, and none will be able to stand in their way!" "At least till they figure out we're not there," says me, "'cause we'll already have slipped out the back door into the new universe." "But will it be any better than the old universe?" says Giblets. "Well it can't be any worse," says me. Labels: true adventures
posted by fafnir at 12:21 AM
Fafblog is back! I knew this hunger strike would work eventually. Better get to the basement and feed them now.
I, for one, welcome back our new old Gibletian/Fafnirian overlords. With bacon, and cheese, and um, whatever is in my wallet. For eating.
A good blog, the best blog, ALL HAIL THE FAFBLOG... best thing ever to happen all day today (and it is only 2am...)
Fafblog! Hooray! Hooray! Hooray! Where did you go? To the Moon? Did you bring back anything? Cheese? Warts? Elastic brain dividers?
one the one hand, a redesign and a new post or two
on the other hand, the comments of years gone by seem to be inaccessible who knows if it's good or bad?
I knew all those goats would pay off in the end. Where are the sneering blogoscientificists now, I ask?
I know of an alternate universe made of ham jello where everyone is a radical Fafbloggist -- except Fafnir!
But welcome back, O mysterious creatures. This universe missed you.
Joyous trumpets sounding! A flock of doves is loosed carrying olive branches in their beaks, a laurel wreath in their left claw, a peace sign made out of recycled shoes in their right claw, and a gnome on their back who is carrying a dove in his left hand which he releases and can be seen laying eggs in midflight which crack on the pavement releasing hundreds more doves which also lay eggs mid flight releasing hundreds more doves which also lay eggs mid flight releasing hundreds more doves which also lay eggs mid flight realizing they don't know how to fly yet and crashing into the spectators below killing everyone in the worst dove/gnome related massacre in the short history of doves and gnomes.
MR. Bill, in a comment over on Shakesville, said you were back, but I was skeptical, but not skeptical enough to not come right over here and here you are!!!
Rhetorical question: What could be better than new fafblog posts? Rhetorical answer: Nothing. Yay for fafblog!!!
If this is an april fool only event, tomorrow a thousand people will cry.
Somebody already is crying. *snif* HOOOOOORAY for fafblog! I'm totally faffed! It's faftastic! *sob!*
Well I'll be a lettuce-picking macaca. This is the Holiest and the Moliest return to the blogwaves of this generation... or any other!
The Millenniumnesium worked! Plus the ketchup, and the animal sacrifices.
Noodles of oodles for all, with camembert and aubergines and a sprinkle of married nosegays and chewed-up indigestible frog fat. No animals milled for monomastic commercial refuse. Just refulgent morning-glory. Peas now! No more bore! The octopus laughed his head off, being short-handed. Bravobravobravobravobravo.
"At least till they figure out we're not there," says me, "'cause we'll already have slipped out the back door into the new universe."
Man, it's going to suck when you get there and realize you have to share a universe with Star Brand.
I am so happy. I am so hungry for more. OhPleaseOhPleaseOhPlease, please, please stay in this universe.
Dear Lord of all things Faf!
I thought that we had lost you so many years ago... Welcome back to the nets! We've all missed you so. --mf
Should I kill myself today? An Analysis:
PROS: 1. Nothing left to look forward to 2. Everyone I care about grows to resent me eventually 3. Less cute with each passing year 4. No other bright ideas for ending current relationship 5. Squandered education and stuck in crappy job CONS: 1. Kinda nice outside 2. Curious about next episode of Battlestar 3. Still skinny 4. Could theoretically encounter opportunity to save kitten. 5. Haven't quite completed "Revenge" to-do list 6. FAFBLOG IS BACK!!! Thanks for tipping the scales, guys.
Once more the world may bask in the glorious rays of True Knowledge that shine from the Fafblog like a thousand mighty suns! We're all gonna get so much skin cancer.
So, what, you think you can just waltz back in here and it's all "Hooray, Fafblog's back," and "Good to see you, Fafblog," and "I killed my infant child for you, Fafblog."
Well, let me tell you something, mister. Two years I spent worrying about where you'd gone, and if you'd come back. Two years I've had to read and write and think without having you here to tell me how to read and write and think, and what to read and write and think about. "Move on," everyone said. "You've got to move on." Like it's that simple. And sure, I tried. I read other blogs. The fat comic books blog that smelled like yellow mustard, or that unctuous politics blog that was so full of itself, parading me around to all the other blogs like I was some kind of prize trout. I even tried a couple of forums -- "You'll like it, Howard. It's just us commentators. Commentators need bloggers like a fish needs a bicycle! Ha-ha!" So, yeah, I tried forums. But it wasn't the same. I still yearned for the sweetness and soaring imagination of Fafnir, the commanding arrogance of Giblets, the bright red pigments found in the chitinous exoskeleton of the Medium Lobster. But I've adjusted. I get along just fine, thankyouverymuch, so if you think that a picture of Conrad Veidt and a story of true adventure are the price of re-admission to my heart, well .... oh, hell, who am I kidding? I am not crying. It's just allergies. I get a lot of allergies now.
Thanks, Fafnir. I mean, really, just thanks. Look, um, well, here's a picture of Emil Jannings.
Is there room for the Medium Lobster in this new universe too?
Or has the Superior Being gone astray in the darkness?
Surrealism is dead! Long live surrealism!
Actually, that should be: Surrealism is mackerels! Long live surrealism!
Holy moly, I don't check fafblog for like a year and a half, give up hope, then the one day when I'm all "hey I wonder if it was right to give up hope on fafblog, maybe it's back now" is the first post since aught six!
Cosmic.
One year and eight months. That's longer than the sabbaticals Bill Watterson and Garry Trudeau took! But that's ok. As long as you're BAAAAAAAAACK!
THEN LET THE THRONG
THEN LET THE THRONG OUR JOY ADVANCE WITH LAUGHING SONG WITH LAUGHING SONG AND MERRY DANCE HAPPY HAPPY JOY JOY HAPPY HAPPY JOY JOY HAPPY HAPPY JOY JOY JOY
Oh frabjous day, callooh callay, I chortle in my joy!
Promise you'll never leave us again, oh glorious Fafblog.
What am I supposed to do with all these fattened lambs?
Oh, never mind, I'll figure something out. Welcome Back!
Man, I still think them cats are crazy ... but the nights are getting warmer now and it won't be long 'til summer comes
Glad to see you back. says me.
jsg said...
What am I supposed to do with all these fattened lambs? Give them more food, man! Are ye daft? ~
I can haz fafblog?!?!?!
I promised myself I wouldn't cry...damn. Best day ever in the history of the blogosphere.
Wot th...? I stumbled onto this site while looking for falafel recipes. What are all these worshipful comments doing here? What is this gibberish? This blog is detritus of the universe!
And it came to pass that what they said was true...amazing, it's back! fAFBLOG'S BACK!
Not sure I'm ready to just jump up and clap and dance, though - not after the sustained deprivation of the past months - And then what happened to that psychedelic green I liked so much tho it hurt the eyes? And is Fafblog under new management or the same old one (or is it, 'meet the new Fafblog, same as the old Fafblog'?) can someone please assure me that its the very same Falfnir and Giblets and Medium Lobster solving the crises of Fafniverse? We need change in Fafniverse like the Arctic needs global warming - never, never change; change is Ba-AD.
jl inquires,
Is this an April Fool's Joke, where is Fannie Farmer? Whether or not this is an April Fool's Joke, here I am. Although Easter in the Western Church calendar is past, the Orthodox Easter is still to come (as well as Passover, the observance of which by Jesus and his disciples was the occasion for the first Christian Easter). Accordingly, may I call to your attention Mark Vogel's essay and recipe at the inmamaskitchen.com website, which says, in part: Italian Easter Pie Every Easter when I was a boy I looked forward to my mom's Easter pie. An Italian tradition, "Easter Pie", as it is colloquially known, is a quiche-like, savory pie, filled with eggs, cheese, meat, and a variety of other possibilities. As a kid, all I knew or cared about was that it tasted great. Little did I know that decades later I would be dissecting the intricacies of this festive preparation. Easter is preceded by Lent, a period of time hallmarked by fasting, particularly from meat on Fridays. Come Easter Sunday, it was time to celebrate, splurge and indulge. Hence, the rich, cheesy and meaty Easter Pie. Easter Pie has many different names and even more recipes, depending on the section of Italy in question. In Naples it is known as "pastiera," and is made with ricotta cheese and whole grains of wheat to symbolize rebirth. It is also known as "pizza piena," (stuffed pie), and in Italian-American dialect, "pizza gain." "Pizza Rustica" is still another term and refers to the savory and rustic aspects of the pie. Italian meat pie is called a "pizzachino" which means pie of meat or meat pie in Italian.... [And speaking of which, I happened to see one of the "Pasta Hut" April Fool's Day commercials by Pizza Hut last night on television. I thought it was well done. --F.F.] Crust * 2 cups all purpose flour * 3/4 teaspoon salt * 2 sticks unsalted butter, cut in cubes * 2 eggs Filling * 6 eggs * salt and pepper to taste * 8 ounces farmer cheese, fresh soft cheese or ricotta cheese * 2 ounces shredded mozzarella cheese * 3 ounces shredded ham * 3 ounces shredded salami * 3 ounces shredded prosciutto METHOD Crust: Mix flour and salt and place in bowl of a food processor. Add butter cubes, one at a time to dough. After each cube pulse food processor just enough to work in butter. Do not overwork or dough will toughen. Dough should resemble coarse meal. Add eggs. Pulse dough until it comes together in a ball. Cut dough in half so that one half is slightly bigger than the other. The smaller half will be the top crust. Wrap each in plastic wrap and rest dough for an hour in fridge. (If you don't have a food processor, work in butter with a dough cutter or a fork and use your hands to integrate eggs.) When dough is almost done resting, preheat oven to 350°F. Make filling: Beat eggs with salt and pepper. Blend cheese into eggs. Shred or slice meat, or put in food processor for a finer textured pie and add to egg/cheese mixture. Roll out larger piece of dough on a floured board until it will fill a 9-inch pie shell. Add filling. Roll out smaller piece of dough until it will cover top. Crimp around edges to seal it. If you'd like, you can brush the top with an egg wash, (beaten eggs). This will give it a sheen when it bakes. Finally, poke holes or slits in the top crust to allow the steam to vent. Cook in preheated 350°F oven or 45 minutes.
o fafblog, I knew in my heart you would return. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay 10 times 10,000 years from now, it will continue to make glad the heart, sure as there will always be an england, like how if you stand out in the rain long enough, sooner or later it's bound to rain fish, you were bound to come back.
What many fafreaders fail to understand is that after digging a deep tunnel, rest is needed. Then there's the vodka martini party and hangover nap.
Life can be simple. If we allow it to be.
Thanks for saving 2008. This is a very crappy year that was not going to end until Jan 2009, if then. Please help make this election year tolerable. All I want to do is bust out with you into a new universe where I will never again hear the words george w bush or iraq.
W/B, srsly. You were (OBVIOUSLY!) missed, and this is fafulous news.
And oddly, I'm reading Fafblog! and my retinas are not emitting that sizzling sound of yore. ::ducks::
Welcome to the new universe, the higher plane, the astral week, the time of the month, the last vestige, the old saying, the final showdown, the shootout at the all is not OK corral. Wipe your feet!
Now wait just a dang minute.... is Fafnir trying to tell us that this new Fafblog is made of papier-mache?
Just what in the Sam Hill is going on around here?
Please, please, please let this not be a horrible April Fools joke!! I couldn't stand to have my heart broken again!
Peace and Giblets, Mark from Wisconsin...
it may appear, to some with limited perception, that i'm perseverating on the comments issue, but in addition to having previously pointed out that the comments of yesteryear are currently inaccessible, i would also like to call to the attention of the faf-powers-that-be that the time-stamping system now in use gives no indication of the day of the week, month, or year of the comment in question
who knows if it will change in some alternate future? word verification: psnvy
mistah charley,
Isn't it today? So then if there's no day an date stamp, just call it 'today'. Problem solved!
several days ago, i wrote, for the whole world to see (although i did not broadcast it to anyone against their will - indeed, they had to take positive action in order to receive it)
it may appear, to some with limited perception, that i'm perseverating on the comments issue, but in addition to having previously pointed out that the comments of yesteryear are currently inaccessible, i would also like to call to the attention of the faf-powers-that-be that the time-stamping system now in use gives no indication of the day of the week, month, or year of the comment in question who knows if it will change in some alternate future? i happen to notice that this statement, which was true at that time, is no longer true - that now comments ARE date-stamped, not just time-stamped i conclude that this is the future, and resolve to live it, or live with it, or get out of the way as this change took place "behind the curtain", i lack sufficient data draw a firm inference on a)whether my previous comment had anything to do with this b)whether previous comments of years gone by will somehow become accessible again but the mystery is, itself, part of fafblog's rich pageant word verification:ykgdn |
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