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Thursday, November 15, 2007

Sandra Bullock and the Blogginham Redemption

Sentencing was swift. My innocence was of no concern to the court. No appeals. No pleading mercy. No recourse. Just a loud bang of the gavel followed by a dry bellowing voice from just as dry a Judge saying "Guilty! Guilty! Guilty!". Sentencing was then passed to the lead juror as if the Judge had washed his hands of the whole proceedings. With a lilting, but matter-of-fact voice, the lead juror read the sentence to the court:



"The Honorable Court of Bloggingham, Her Majesty the Queen Mimi of Meme, Her Loyal Subjects, and the Jurors before the Public of Bloggingham have unanimously found the defendant, Foxxfyrre, Guilty of Meme Neglect in the First Degree. It is hereby decreed that the maximum sentence of Life plus a Month of Sundays without chance of parole or appeal with sentence to be carried out in the depths of Bloggingham Palace's Dungeon. Tortures will be levied out in the form of Daily Rackings, The Iron Butterfly (the band, not the metal thingy), Canings, Cookings by Her Majesty, Purple Nurples, and the occasional Tar and Featherings, sometimes just the Featherings to be determined by the Warden of the Dungeon. So say we all."


Eleven months. Eleven months of tortures, taunts, teases, and ahem *tastes* have been doled out like clockwork. The racking isn't so bad, it does wonders for my sciatica, but 18 hours a day of Inagoddadvita on quadraphonic 33 1/3 LPs with scratches and pops is just hell. What happened to the digital era? A CD? Satelite Radio? Heck, even an eight track cassette player would be magic, but no--it's supposed to be torture. I've even drummed up enough nerve to ask for second helpings at mess just to get them to turn off the background music.

On the bright side though, I have made a few good friends in the dungeon. There are quite a few of us here that have been found guilty of Meme Neglect. And we are all Lifers, and mostly men to boot. Meme Neglect is the most serious of offenses in Bloggingham, and ignorance of the Laws of the Land is not a viable defense. There are others here serving other types of sentences, but they mostly keep to themselves. Us 'Memers', as we have become known, have formed a little social club, and when the guards are asleep, we dabble at a little late night poker.

Our social club would not have happened if we did not get on some of the guard's good side. And that was not an easy task. They couldn't be bribed, they were loyal to a fault, but they did find out that I can cook. Once that was out in the open, I was put to work as dungeon guard chef, but I would not cooperate unless we were allowed some liberties.
(I really do make the best Caesar Salads)
Guards even had me working for their family gatherings.
And sometimes they even let me play with fire.
(Is that Grande Marnier I see on the cart?)

Because of my culinary skills, they agreed to our Friday night 'Socials' and stand guard for us, not over us.

It was during one of these 'Socials' that Bobbarama and I figured we needed to make an escape plan. As much as the dungoen was growing on us, we knew we needed to get out. First we needed to get our hands on the dungeon blueprints.

I was able to convince a guard that I needed to use the computer lab, and library in the dungeon to IM with my lovely Lola. This tactic did not work at first because we are allowed conjugal visits once a month.
(Conjugal visit just before last Christmas--Notice guard on right, always alert!)

And if you look closely at Lola's Tee Shirt, I am now convinced that Mimi has the timing of those conjugal visits planned as well--nasty form of torture I tell you.

I was finally able to get a blueprint of the dungeon, and we planned our escape. Two months in the workings, and we thought we had it beat. We knew the timing of shipments-thanks to my hacking abilities-and decided that we would use the laundry delivery service to escape the dungeon. To make our escape foolproof, I managed to get one of the guards a little intoxicated, and had him remove all the tire valve cores to the Palace's fleet of vehicles. I had him believe that the cores were the wrong size and tires would blow out at speeds topping 25 miles per hour. He managed to flatten all the tires of all of the Palace's vehicles before the effects of overimibing took over him. He fell asleep on one of the racks in the dungeon as I had hoped. All we needed now was the Laundry delivery to be on time, and we had our escape made. The Laundry Service driver was in on our plans, and would have kept us well hidden. Unfortunately, Queen Mimi had a trip planned to a far off, and mysterious land called Con Netty Cut, and discovered the flattened tires of the Royal Limosine. As punnishment, all Memers in the dungeon had a Month of Mondays added to their sentences, and an additional square meal a day. Queen Mimi had heard rumours of an escape plan in the works, so she felt punishment must be swift and harsh.

Undaunted by this setback, I immediately started working on plans for another escape. I had heard somewhere out in the blogoshpere that this man, I think his moniker is Promethious, mentioned something about being able to dig to China with plastic spoons. I knew I didn't need to go as far as China, so I started collecting Bloggingham's fine silver plated plasticware. When we were first imprisoned, and strip searched, all belongings were confiscated, save one personal item which prisoners were allowed to keep. I've had a collector's lifesize signed edition poster of Sandra Bullock which I kept as my personal choice while imprisioned. Little did I know at the time that Sandra would play an integral part in my escape. I think I remember reading somewhere that a poster of Rita Hayworth was used as a cover for a hole dug to escape from a prison cell somewhere in New England. I don't remember where or when I read about this thrilling escape, but I did find a portrait of the mastermind who thought the whole thing up.

My thought was if it worked once it could work again.

Implementation of the plan was underway. Four months of digging and I was able to break through underneath Bobbarama's cell. At this point he was able to assist me with the digging which halved the time to dig the tunnel out from under the Palace.

I can't say it was easy work, but Bobbarama and I kept at it. Six and a half months after starting to dig out of my cell, we were ready for the final implementation of the plan and eventual escape. We set the date of escape for November the 8th. Apparently there was a big hubbub at Bloggingham Palace leading up to November 8th that kept even Queen Mimi herself very busy. The final gala was supposed to take place on November 7th, and Queen Mimi officially declared November the 8th as a day of resting. I figured that if even the Queen would rest on this day, we would not be detected escaping the dungeon.

And the day came, my cell was ready.
Being careful not to damage my Sandra Bullock poster, several Memers sneaked into my cell, and still others were waiting in Bobbarama's. At 8:30 am sharp we headed out of our cells and into the tunnel.
The escape plan did have its faults, but when your life is at stake, and there is no hope or end in sight, you'd be surprised what kind of guano one will wade through for freedom.

It's been several years since that fateful morning, and many of us Memers have managed to keep in contact. Everyone except for Bobbbarama, he seems to have slipped off the face of the earth. He has even become quite the legend.
I wonder?
____________________________________________________
____________________________________________________
Breaking News
Polliwog from Polliwog's Pond stopped in and rated this post Buzzworthy

Thanks Polliwog

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This is the Prologue for a continuing themed post entitled Foxxfyrre: The Fugitive of Bloggingham. Please follow along and watch Foxxfyrre bumble along as he tries to avoid capture and find the One Legged Man that stole his memes.

Post Episodes to Date:


8 comments:

Anonymous said...

Oh my goodness. This is the funniest thing I have ever read in my life. Hysterical!!!!!

More Frank, more!!!

And you have put a smile on my face that hsn;t been here for weeks. I think this post is "buzz-worthy", please go pick up your award at: http://www.polliwogspond.com/awards/

Frank Sirianni said...

Thanks much polliwog.
I love doing these kind of fictional posts--especially if I can get the photos to fit in properly.

Mimi Lenox said...

Before I answer thusly (I've always wanted to say that word) I have a few questions.
What are purple nurples? And why can't you be happy with a 1/2 glass of goat's milk everyday and a pack of peanut butter crackers?
You don't likeinagoddadvita? It's my favorite song, so deal with it.

You've been cooking for the minions? I knew it! This explains why the Palace fire alarms keep going off night and day. I've had it! I can't get any beauty sleep and I'm on a dating tear here ya know. I need my rest.

Good thing he has a car since all my tires are now flat! Thanks a lot.

I should have given everyone more food from my kitchen. If I'd done that there wouldn't be this uprising. Instead, you'd all be dead by now. Taking notes....

"fine silver plated plasticware..." ha ha and yes it was Prometheus, my friend from India. I wish he were here. He'd know what to do with all you memers for sure.

Bobbarama? How did Bobbarama get in this caper? He's disappeared from the blogosphere! Didn't you hear? Uh oh. Maybe that's why....he's a legend? How can a cue ball be a legend? Interesting...

Maybe he'll show up soon and defend his honor.

You wouldn't have escaped if I'd just cut off those conjugal visits. Lola was just the inspiration you needed.

Damn love.

Anonymous said...

I love the pictures of you and Lola, Frank. And I love Caesar salads. What a totally riotously funny story.

Anonymous said...

If you teach junior high boys, you know what purple nurples are, believe me, because they try to give them to each other a lot.

Frank Sirianni said...

Yeah Gem, You're back.
I could imagine you've had to break up a lot of nurplings in school. What fun they were too. It's a wonder any young adult male even has a nipple left--or right one for that matter. I had my share of them, but I got really, really good at needle pinching. They soon learned not to Purple the Needler.

ggg

Frank Sirianni said...

Mimi
First, I think the above explains what Purple Nurples are.

I love peanut butter crackers, and the goat's milk would be fine too, if it was served sooner than two weeks after the 'Best Before' date expires, so it's not somewhere between goat curd, and feta--not appetizing at all.

I do love--did love Inagoddadavita, but break down and buy a CD. That record sounds like you've been slicing that goat-milk-curd-feta-cheesy-poof-thingys with it.

Me cook??? You must be mistaking. I've had water set fire on the stove.

You would have those tires fixed now, if the Bloggingham-Mr.Goodwrench guy wasn't found guilty of Meme Neglect too. You know, he goes by the name Mr. Goodblogger.

As for Bobbarama, I'll never give in and spill the beans. Honor Among Memers you know!

Prometheus said...

Oh yes, that man monikered Prometheus. Yeah, that digger of tunnels with plastic spoons. Amazing what a few centuries of neglect can do to one revered in the pantheon.

But Prometheus is happy. Happy that the Foxx managed to dig out of that blastid dungeon. On second thoughts, the Foxx could've secretly written to Prometheus to ask for his fire recipe like that man monikered Guido Fawkes (Foxx?) did. Prometheus loves places going ka-boom.

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