thus far

as word idol continues into its second day (there are treats in store, to be sure) let us take stock of where we are thus far:

yesterday, andy blew out of the gates, indeed, he blew the gate off the fence with a veritable eating manifesto. joshua injected his own special blend of political satire and folk etymology (is faff, fap’s 14th century great grandfather?) in these tough times of layoffs, war, global warming, and tiger woods’ stable of stripper mistresses, both andy and joshua have found outlets in their chosen f-words. andy in the comfort of the cheap post-noon, pre-dinner proletariat snack of fourings, and joshua in his faff the man, faff the police, “i’m mad as hell, and i’m about to faff” rage against the machine.

and what of you, intrepid reader? can you see yourself scarfing a light meal of fried oyster amuse-bouches at 1600 each day? does your scrounging for maui wowie and glazed donut holes at 4:20 every afternoon count as fourings? are you interested in using faff as a ferocious new euphemism for the original f-word? do you think that the high faff (like the high five, but with a more violent hand smack) could replace the fist bump as the de facto bro greeting? did you engage in fourings or faffing yesterday?

the next entry will be strutting into the word idol combat arena shortly.