I’m Depressed and I’m Hungry – FML – Part 1
September 28, 2009
Steelers lost. I’m fasting for Yom Kippur. The Steelers better start winning or my new slate of sinning is going to take a 48 hour fast to cure.
I’m no stranger to fanfiction.
I have referenced a few times my love for the ancient artistry of Japanese anime/manga. Generally, these stories focus on early high school aged teenagers jacked up on hormones and super powers. No matter the time era, these kids are our only hope at saving the world from some catastrophic evil entity that they must battle in one-on-one combat as either ninjas, samurai, roller-bladers, pirates, wizards or pilot sixty-foot robots built for war into each other. And in the midst of all that, there are always one or two wildly innocent love subplots and a megaton of wildly perverted subplots.
I’ve seen my fair share of fanfiction based around these anime/mangas. Typically, they are based in the universe that was created by the archetype original series and follows the laws that were set. Until I started this blog and was treated to “The Office”, the thought never occurred to me that one would write fanfiction of your favorite literary characters outside the walls of whatever mystical world they are in. Fanfiction I’ve read is trying to expound on those walls. New enemies, new good guys, new venues for their favorite characters as if they were missing chapters or bonus chapters to what they are already reading. “The Office” is 100% the opposite. It is taking the extraordinary and making it ordinary. It’s the Twilight peeps working shit office jobs, right?
I know they’re fucking. I am going to bring that up. That is the magic in that story. They’re not immortal vampires; they’re bored to death 9-5ers who just so happen to fuck each other’s living brains out every 8 paragraphs. I see that. I’ve seen that. In the fanfiction I’ve seen about the anime/mangas I read, they still are ninjas and they are still fighting evil ninjas and then afterwords they perform the weirdest sex acts on each other. But they’re still ninjas or samurai or robot warriors! Who knows how people unwind after a fireball throwing death fight with a demon on top of a mountain? They may unwind by banging each other’s brains out. I get that. But “The Office”?
I work in an office. I’ve worked in offices for years. The only one getting fucked over here on a regular basis is me and my 401k. Zing! Economics jokes. So today, I am going to write some fanfiction. Some REAL fanfiction. Based on my experiences at office work. This may or may not be nearly identical to what my daily life was several years ago working at a non-profit in their HR department. This is not about my current job. On the off chance someone from my work does read this blog and is just keeping it a secret to themselves. So I’m choosing to write about an old job. And… it will feature the Twilight characters in a manner of speaking. Things are about to get really real.
CHAPTER whatever
*BAN* *BAN* *BAN*
Fake-Rob’s cell phone screams like an air raid siren through his REM sleep. A cold rush of panic shoots through his now semi-conscious body. This attack on his system is coupled with the exact same thought this alarm triggers every morning he hears it: I’m still alive and that means I have to go to work. Why can’t God just finish this already? Can’t I just go peacefully in my sleep? But no, Fake-Rob has survived another night of sleep and is now awake. Well sort of awake. He hasn’t opened his eyes yet.
Fake-Rob’s arm rises from underneath the covers blindly and is clumsily drawn to his cell phone’s screech like a marionette on strings. His thumb clicks the “end” button and finally the wails of electronic pain cease. In this quiet, Fake-Rob contemplates quitting his job just so he can sleep in. This is the same negotiating Fake-Rob does every morning at this time and sadly reaches the same conclusion each time. I have to go to work.
Jammed into the sleigh bed his parents bought Fake-Rob when he was 14, he lets out a yawn so powerful that it almost makes him vomit. He sits up and flings his dead legs off his bed onto the floor. Fake-Rob has yet to see the morning with open eyes. This is in part because of how extremely tired he is and partly because there is nothing new to see. Fake-Rob has not updated his childhood room since he was in fact a child. His brief apprenticeship as an interior decorator started and stopped when he was in elementary school. He adorned his walls with sports posters of that moment in time and has never thought a second about updating them.
Sluggishly, Fake-Rob, through sheer muscle memory and not sight, grabs his towel off the back of his door and a pair of underwear off his desk. His underwear, undershirts and socks are in three neat piles on his desk because he maturely refuses to put them away in any dresser drawers.
Now equipped, Fake-Rob walks into the bathroom and starts the shower. At this moment, standing across from the vanity mirror he unhinges his eyelids and allows himself to see for the first time this day: his utterly depressed face. Ugh. Why am I doing this to myself? Why am I wasting my youth at this job? Why couldn’t I have been born in a time and age where my youth was celebrated? Why can’t I just run through fields of golden wheat chasing young beautiful women in revealing white togas? Why can’t I do battle with my enemies using sword and shield? Why can’t I sit around with fellows discussing the answers to the universe in long elaborate hypothetical word problems? Why couldn’t I have been born to a filthy rich family where I got a disgustingly stupid inheritance just for turning 18? Ugh… fucking parents.
Shower, brushed teeth, and first morning piss which is so pleasurable it makes him arch his back and stretch up on his tiptoes. Back in the bedroom, Fake-Rob has dressed himself in a striped button up shirt and a pair of khaki pants. One last look at his lonely too small for him sleigh bed and he heads downstairs.
Instantly, his dogs attack him. As a rogue burglar that they can only kill with wagging tails and licks to the face, he is attacked. They jump at his legs and mark him with their shedded fur. The big one, the golden retriever, stands her full length and hits Fake-Rob hard in the chest sending him into the pantry. She will knock him down for the other smaller dog warriors to get their chance at him. Fake-Rob succumbs for a moment to the dog saliva and dander, but remembers one word: “work”.
He thanks his mother for the finely brewed cup of coffee which he snatches and drinks in one stupid gulp burning the roof of his mouth like every morning. He makes one last check that he has the holy quadrinity on him: cell phone, keys, wallet and iPod. He is out the door in a sprint. He is at his car. He is driving the speed limit through the suburbs of New Jersey to his goal: the New Jersey train stop by his house. He parks. He runs as the train is approaching in the distance and meets the train on the platform just as it arrives.
Once on the train, Fake-Rob slides his headphones on and collapses into the nearest seat. He skips through his gigabytes of music for something that will soothe him and feed into his chronic morning depression: Elliott Smith. He turns the music up so it drowns out all other noises. He removes his monthly train pass from his wallet and places it on his chest. And then he proceeds to try and fall asleep on the train like a young well-dressed hobo. He can’t sleep though. Fake-Rob was never a good public sleeper, so he just hangs in a purgatory for the first leg of his NJ Transit ride.
The train stops at Newark and Fake-Rob exits. He stands on the platform deaf to his surroundings with his iPod turned on high surrounded by the morning rat race heading into New York City . He glances around with his head on a swivel. He is looking for extremely brazen muggers or hot chicks. He spots one. A hot chick, not a mugger. There are no muggers. Newark Penn Station is completely safe. But if you walk two blocks from it you are immediately killed. But back to the hot chick, Fake-Nikki Reed.
Fake-Rob runs his eyes along every curve of her body. Tracing her profile from head to foot. Fake-Rob rubs his face and prepares himself for his best move: “sexy eyes”. Sexy eyes are the same as “creep eyes” depending on the other person’s subjective opinion on them. One move can easily become the other move without Fake-Rob doing anything. It is all about Fake-Nikki Reed’s interpretation of them. Fake-Rob engages sexy eyes. Fake-Nikki Reed minding her on business standing on the same platform 20 feet away looks to her left and catches eyes with Fake-Rob for a moment. Oh it’s on. After that moment, Fake-Rob adverts his eyes making Fake-Nikki Reed question whether or not they intentionally caught eyes. The plan is working perfectly.
The train pulls up and Fake-Rob and Fake-Nikki Reed have shared numerous glances. They both get on the same car of the train. Fake-Nikki Reed is now like a paranoid spy constantly looking over at Fake-Rob to see if he is looking back at her and sometimes he is and sometimes he appears to be just getting a head count of everyone in the car. This eye love affair is about as close as Fake-Rob will get because Fake-Rob has a severe phobia of being rejected in public.
Once in New York City, Fake-Nikki Reed exits the train to the left and Fake-Rob to the right and at that moment Fake-Rob feels his heart in pain. He watches her leave his sight interspersed in the millions of other New York City travelers. Fake-Rob thinks to himself, I would have loved you forever Fake-Nikki Reed. We could have gotten married and had children and we would have been so happy together. I loved you and I will love you forever until this exact thing happens with some other hot chick on the ride home tonight or the next morning or…
After a mile walk through the urban jungle that is Manhattan, Fake-Rob has fallen in and out of love a dozen times. Fake-Rob arrives at the foot of his work building. He turns off his iPod and can now hear the symphony of cursing, car horns, cop whistles and inane cell phone conversations that this wonderful city provides. He buys his second cup of coffee and a bagel with cream cheese from a street vendor and then enters the building. After a short elevator ride and serpentine walk through the cubicle maze, Fake-Rob is ten minutes early to his desk at a job everyone else shows up an hour late for.
Part II of this epic journey will be posted tomorrow!
Did you have a little stroke over the weekend? Because I can’t follow this at all. You live with your parents? You shower before you pee??? It’s all too incoherent.
I don’t ever read FanFiction, so I read your post up until you said you were gonna write a fanfiction. I am sure it was entertaining. Perhaps someone could paraphrase for me. But see, one of my so called “friends” whio may or may not be a fellow sister wife, made me (while drunk of course) read a line or 2 FF and it scared the living shit out of me. So no more. Despite having never read “the Office”, I agree with your thoughts about why the eff don’t those Office people act like Vampires? Why not just re-name the GDed characters. Anyhow, thanks for making me laugh in the first couple of paragraphs. XOXOXOX
I meant what I said in that text.
LMFAO Everytime I read that I die a little inside.
I just snorted really loud at that comment Tiff… maybe we can get janey to recite it.
Tiff, you win.
“I menat what I said in that text, I really want to become more acquainted with your cock.” Ugghhh!! Stuck in my brain forever that night.
This is an incredible gift you’ve given us all this day, Janetrigs.
Janey, I love you so much. Thank you for sharing your Fan fic quote with us.
Whaattttt!? Is that a line from fan fic? That’s just……
uh hey Jordan, what’s your cell phone number? I have something I’d like to text you…
No one makes you read the screen. So SHUTUPINYOURFACE Jane Trigs!! ;P
Simma down
Summmabitch
Word. I’ve simma downed.
You are right my presence was most def needed here today. I do feel like a bad sister wife for not posting here very much. I think I’ve only commented a few times. Oh well. I’m sure all my fellow sister wives will forgive me b.c that’s what sister wives do. 
I’m sorry, I accept no office fiction from you that doesn’t involve your suits. That was the whole point of dropping that link in your comments lo those many posts ago; to show my appreciation for your fine (and lately elusive) suits, I send you pornographic stories. I thought that’s how it worked before I learned of the bikini/luchador currency. I might add I caught a bit of grief for it too, and to top it off, today’s post has NO pictures, not even non-suit ones.
I’m sorry I gave you a hard time for posting it. I don’t do fan fic and I didn’t realize Jordan would. But I guess reading about sex is reading about sex… so you’re a wiser woman than me, and I bow down to you.
I’m barely halfway through this and had to share…
I’m several paragraphs into the fic and there’s no fucking. What kind of smut is this?
Oh, I’m fasting too and it sucks. BLARG
PS. you scared Janet half to death. She fears the Fic and wears a purity ring to never read it. You almost had her, but I’m sure she’s now rocking herself back to life in her office cube.
I know. No fucking. No panty ripping. No “ministrations”. We know that Fake-Rob would have at least gotten off in the shower, propping himself with one hand against the wall.
No letting out breaths he didn’t know he was holding. No tongues granting entrances to mouths. I was sorely disappointed….until he mentioned the too small sleigh bed and then I couldn’t see through the tears because I was laughing so hard.
Exactly, and Fake-Rob does not live with his parents. That’s like an instant chastity belt right there, no panty poofing. Debating on posting a paragraph from the office for a comparison…
Do it Brooke! I vote La Perla dressing room or the window fuck heard round the world. Ooh, or the one in the car, I have a picture to accompany that one.
There was also no hissing or obvious erections. I call shenanigans on this “fanfic”.
SHENANIGANS! where’s a good throbbing Cock when you need one. sheesh
Jeez backlash already?
We’re all feeling the pain of the Steelers loss. I liked your story, especially the part about the dogs and your mom’s damn fine coffee. I’m wondering if she’ll make it for Thanksgiving when you bring all your wives home to meet her. We are invited, right?
I feel no pain for the Steelers.
Heretic. Your avatar shall forthwith be changed to black and gold until you yield. (WTF, did I just get back from a Renaissance Faire, or something?)
Make tomorrow’s post a fake fanfic entry about Transformers. That should end well.
I heart your face.
Best idea for fanfic ever.
Tranformers/Go Bots fanfic.
I….love….this.
You are so brilliant it makes me want to cry…in a good way.
Cant wait for tomorrow.
I totally feel fake Rob’s pain, jobs suck.
Geez, now I feel like a loser for liking your post. Haha.
Adult manga is the best. Cartoon boobies rule. I made the mistake once of stumbling into some whacked out hentai, a trauma from which I’ve not completely recovered.
Wow, is this the first post that does not mention Kristen Stewart? I think that goes against the rules of this blog. I even did a word find on here to make sure I wasn’t speaking out of turn. No mention of Kristen Stewart wanting it. I am SHOCKED.
This originally was one even longer post. I decided to cut it in half. KS is mentioned in the second half so don’t freak out. I picture you all freaking out a lot apparently.
I can’t imagine why you’d think we freak out a lot… I mean, certainly we’ve proved ourselves to be level headed and normal.
I live my life thinking in movie quotes. HB, your comment made me think of Steve Buscemi in Con Air: “One girl, I drove through three states wearing her head as a hat.”
But then I think of Jordan manfully clicking on a link to pornographic fan fiction and reading at least enough of it to mock the first paragraph and find the sex parts. It calls to mind the scene in Four Weddings and a Funeral when Andie MacDowell’s trying on crazy wedding dresses and Hugh Grant’s watching her do it. She puts on some slinky tight-fitting thing, and looks to him for his opinion and he says, “If I were your husband, I would die of pride.”
I’m over here dying of pride and helpless laughter.
You know what I find strange? Slash fiction. I was going along my merry way, not even knowing what that was, until I was traveling for work and spent one bored night in a hotel room reading a Barron’s magazine article about slash fiction. Which is like fan fiction except they inexplicably make the famous fictional male characters gay. And it’s usually written by older women. (I believe they used the term “middle-aged” but as I careen toward the end of my 30′s I no longer like to refer to 40-year old women as “middle-aged.”) I can’t wrap my brain around why women, uh, slightly older than me, want to imagine Kirk and Spock fucking each other. I love Star Trek. I don’t want to imagine that. Since Barron’s doesn’t seem like the kind of magazine to cover that beat, perhaps I’ve misremembered the source.
Then I spent an uncomfortable plane ride reading a Vanity Fair article about Furries, which anyone who watches CSI Vegas won’t need me to explain. I guess the point of this rambling comment is to bring your own reading material when you travel, or else prepare yourself to learn some strange shit about what seemingly-normal people do in their down time.
So, Janetrigs had to safeword out of the fic. I understand that.
Myself, I’m loving it. Bring it on! I assume since Fake-Nikki didn’t give Fake-Rob so much as a passing handy in the train bathroom, good times with Fake-Ashley or Fake-Kristen is up ahead! (Or Fake-Rachelle, because she’s kind of ROWR.)
However, if you do turn it into a slash fic (which I was going to mention even BEFORE I read PWG’s comment–twinners!) with some Fake-Rob on Fake-Taylor action (or Fake-Jackson or Fake-Kellan), I too will have to scream “FUCKERY” (or, alternately “TURPENTINE”–you know what I’m sayin’ FF h00rs) and tap out myself.
And I shouldn’t be thinking about this, but now I’m figuring Fake-Rob would be a bottom in any scenario except with Fake-Taylor.
Welcome to the dirty places of my mind. And you can’t even go eat comfort food to get over the trauma of my comment.
I’m eagerly awaiting part deux.
really? fake-rob as a bottom? i always pictured him as a top.
and ftr i have read some decent fake-rob/fake-jackson slash fic. i just decided that i wasnt gonna think about it as fake-rob and fake-jackson. i made them into brian and emmett from queer as folk in my head.
I totally she Fake-Rob as a bottom. I think you should introduce Fake-TomStu into you “FanFic”. That would be EPIC.
Yeah we know how dirty you are.
Slash hurts my heart. BAD. Puppies get kicked and butterflies die everytime someone writes a slash fic. I’m convinced. I safeworded at “bottom”. Seriously. I screamed turpentine in the privacy of my bedroom. I just want to go back to bagel and cream cheese and dog hair. I’ll gladly take a chastity belt for the team, Brookie, if it means we never speak of slash again.
This is the first time in the history of reading your blog that I’m speechless. I love everything about this so much I don’t know what to say or where to start…
I can’t tell you how hard I laughed when I realized that you were admitting to reading The Office. I don’t read fan fic, so I didn’t know that they weren’t actually vampires in it. What’s the point in that? Why bother pretending it’s them at all? Why not read legit erotic stories? I’m confused.
You’re a very good writer. I don’t even care that there’s no sexing happening at this point. I’m looking forward to tomorrow’s post.
I’m sorry the Steelers lost and that you can’t eat right now. That sounds like the worst kind of Monday ever. Would offer to help take your mind off of it but… that’s probably what everyone expects me to do at this point.
I don’t read FanFic.
The end.
p.s. Not the end…we will not discuss the Steelers lost. But we will discuss that my Bulldogs barely pulled it out in the end. That’s what she said.
I know! I know! Let’s forget the Bengals and go back to the post where someone sent Jordan a picture of a bikini-clad woman wearing a lucha libre mask. If we detectivate real good, we can figure out who was recently in Mexico and might have sent that!
Penn State lost over the weekend and I may be depressed for another football season. Sigh.
i read fanfic. alot. i read the office. i also have caught a few episodes of the tv show the office. i was completely finished reading this post and reading the comments before i realized you were talking about the fanfic office and not the tv show office. i was really confused.
and fake rob would have at the very least rubbed one out in the shower.
Oh no, now I’m seeing smut everywhere. I’m half-listening to Empire Strikes Back on the TV, and Han just said, “Laugh it up, fuzzball, but you didn’t see us alone in the south passage.” And I made that dirty in my mind. I’m not even delirious from lack of food. This is the danger of fan fiction, Jordan, I’m blaming you instead of my naturally filthy brain.
I can’t tell you how many hours of inebriated entertainment I’ve enjoyed watching the Death Star blowing up scene in Star Wars Ep. 4 and making it dirty. It’s off the “that’s what she said” charts.
At 5:20, “Luke, at that speed do you think you’ll be able to pull out in time?” You can’t tell me the writers weren’t snickering over that.
Most uncomfortable Star Wars moment in the whole saga: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LtU9h0VUBZg
And that’s sayin’ something, if you’re comparing it to this gem from Episode 3:
“You’re so beautiful.”
“It’s only because I’m SO in love.”
“No, no, it’s because I’m so in love with YOU.”
. . . “Hold me. Like you did by the lake on Naboo.”
Oh George Lucas, you crazy awful dialogue writer. Who set up a 20 second incestuous kiss that you hoped we’d all forget about later. To be fair, this was before Tivo, DVDs and VCRs (I think), so he couldn’t have known we’d be able to watch the movies again out of order and be freaked out by Luke and Leia.
no kstew. i am freaking out.
Not a fan of ‘The Office’ – however a great piece of fanfic (besides the epic journey you are currently writing) is CW & IA. Great twist on the characters and lots of plot line.
Steelers lost, so did Seattle. It’s good to know we can lean back on the comfort of fanfic and lick wounds… or whatever is going on in that train….
Since today’s post is sadly lacking in pictures, I’ll provide illustrations for Chapter 2 of Jordan’s fan fic effort: The Ride Home
http://img183.imageshack.us/i/trainstation.jpg/
Now I’m depressed and hungry..hungry for a NY bagel.
Um..Jordan…I liked this – quite amusing! love “He spots one. A hot chick, not a mugger”….”Oh, It’s on”…and of course “I loved you and I will love you forever until this exact thing happens with some other hot chick on the ride home tonight or the next morning or…”.
Truth or Fiction?: Did your Parents buy you a sleigh bed or was it a hand-me-down? I can’t imagine parents buying a boy a sleigh bed. If you pulled that one out of your ass I’m thinking that you had a one night stand with a midget princess on her sleigh bed and you are now doing some blogging therapy forbeing at the mercy of your wanting…re-living the pathetic drunken stupor of that night.
The mind can go to strange places after a few hours of fasting on Yom Kippur. Want? Connect with your inner Office FanFic “Want” on Yom Kippur. Pace yourself SleighBedFakeRobWantingOfficeBoy!
They make fanfiction for crazy Japanese anime? Prepubescent girls, running around in catholic schoolgirl uniforms isn’t enough? There has to be actual sex as well, instead of just implied? As a person that watches crunchyroll regularly, this freaks me out a little.
Thanks for your foray into FF. You have made me laugh, instead of throw up in my mouth a little, which other fanfiction does to me sometimes.
You have *no* idea how whacked out anime fanfic can get.
Some of it is really sweet and cute, and some of it is so disturbing you would need brain bleach to get it out of your head.
When I was a young-un (and probably very much NOT supposed to be reading erotica, but it was easy enough to hide from my parents) I read far too much Sailor Moon fanfic. I wanted Mamoru so bad, he was tall (yeah I know for a fact no Japanese man is that tall) and haaaaaansome and who can resist a guy who wears a tux to save the world? And then I found lesbian Sailor Moon, and my teenage sexuality questioning officially began.
There is no way in hell I’m going to admit the dirtiest thing I ever read in fanfic, but it sure as shit wasn’t The Office! Which I enjoy mainly because there *is* hot sex every eight paragraphs, and if my life was a story the ratio would be more along the lines of every 100 or so paragraphs…
Now that I know you’re Jewish, I want it even more.
Fanfic is a serious addiction. You shun your friends and family and (if you’re super-spaz like me) get caught reading a really dirty part by your other half, who laughs at you when you call it “Girly Porn”, and laughs even harder when you try to justify reading it by declaring “Well, you never go down on me in a stairwell!”
Yeah, that didn’t go down well (that’s what I said! Several times!)
I was waiting for the ‘obvious, painful erection’ upon the appearance of Fake-Nikki Reed. But maybe Fake-Rob just needs an eyeful of Fake-KStew in a white dress and gold heels (which is such a “Real Housewives of the OC” combo, I just can’t take anyone seriously who wears gold heels during the day…)
Enough Office references!
And because I am a certified barely-function addict, what is Turpentine from? I’ve nearly finished WA and need to be pointed to a new source of vicarious romance.
Also, bring on part 2! With mucho sex plz. Otherwise you’ll be letting the horny sister-wives down.
Oh, you sweet, sweet virgin. “Turpentine” is from “The Submissive” and “The Dominant” by tara sue me. Read “The Submissive” first (which is Fake-Kristen’s POV), then “The Dominant” (the same story, from Fake-Rob’s POV). Once you’re done with those–and they MUST be read in that order–head for “The Training”, which has just gotten started.
Just the names of those gave me butterflies….lol
I apparently need to look up this “The Office” you all speak of. I watch the TV show but there is no sex….and it’s a bit disappointing. So off on a hunt for Fake-Rob PORN!!
Can’t. Breathe.
You writing fan fic.
Best post Yom Kippur gift ever.
I told you I’d be back, darling.
P.S. If you read the submissive/ the dominant, I might pass out. I think you’d like it. I do. I do.
happy yom kippur!!! i still had school tho :/
i love this fanfiction story uve wrote, its really long, but easy to read. youre a really good writer, and smart too. like you knew all this random shit about charles de gaulle.
Just re-read.
Do not recall “death by laughter over KSWI Jordan revealing he reads fan fiction” as one of the ways one might not make it after a lackluster Yom Kippur atonement.
I would die happy.
I’ve missed you, KSWI Jordan. I know you’ve missed corrupting me.
i must note: i <3 that your commenters/wives (most of us are wife-bitches, but I didn't want to leave anyone out) have embraced using Fake- to refer to characters in a movie (to be moviesssss) and books we are quite clearly obsessed with.
Way to add to the lexicon even more, KSWI Jordo.
As a former fanfic writer and reader, I can certainly appreciate this. The overwrought descriptions of minute events especially. I never wrought anything really heavy on the wet and sweaty though. I wrote Firefly fanfiction. Some decent stuff too, compared to a lot of my writing.
I also found a site devoted to Hermoine Granger erotic fanfiction. There’s some things that I’ve seen that will be forever burned into the brain.
People are wierd.
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I love soccer, not sure about this ball for the world cup though. Do you think it is good for the game?
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