Fnoobology

apocalypse

I was trying to learn how to be a fnoob. It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t easy but I was giving it a try. It wasn’t easy but I was giving it everything I had. Learning how to be a fnoob was the thing to do. This was where it was at. Learning how to be a fnoob was the order of the day…

 

Fnoobishness and all things fnoob were all that I cared about. How to be a fnoob? Or rather, how to pass oneself off as a fnoob? This was the burning question. This was the question that was on my mind. I was a student of fnoobology. I was an aficionado of all things fnoob. I was a fnoob faddist. I was a fnoobophile.

 

This was no mere whimsical exercise on my part I must point out – lest you think it was. I was deadly serious in my studies. I couldn’t have been seriouser. I was no fickle fnoob fancier, I was no dilettante fnoob impersonator. I had no choice in the matter. This had to work for me – I was living in fnoobworld and if I couldn’t make it as a fnoob then I wouldn’t be able to make it at all. I was trying to secure my future here! I was trying to make sure I had a future.

 

The only way to survive in fnoobworld was to be a fnoob. It is as simple as that and that was why I had to get it right. That’s why I was such an avid student of fnooboid behaviour. That’s why I was making it my business to learn what it meant to be fnoob. I was like a method-actor – I ate fnoobishness, I lived it, I breathed it in every step I took. I did fnoob stuff, I made frequent fnoobish comments. I did everything like a fnoob would do, I said everything like a fnoob would say it. When I laughed I laughed like a fnoob and when I cried I cried fnoob tears…

 

All of this was by no means easy – I was trying to fit into a mind-set that was fundamentally alien to me. None of what I was doing made any sense to me. None of it was intuitive – it was an effort every single time. I had to work it out again every single time as if I had never done it before. What would a fnoob do in this situation? What would a fnoob say? How would a fnoob be thinking here? This was the enigma I had to wrestle with from morning to night. This was the nut I had to crack. I was the nut cracker. I was the riddle solver. I was the one who had to second-guess the opaque fnooboid thought-process. This was my life week-in week-out, months after month, year after year.

 

As I say, I wrestled with this enigma on a daily basis. I wrestled and wrestled. I was straining to make myself into something I wasn’t. I was struggling to be something I never could be. The very best I could do – by some weird lateral mental process that even I couldn’t understand – was somehow pass myself off as a fnoob. I simulated fnoobhood. I somehow managed to approximate the state of fnoobhood even though I didn’t have the slightest faintest clue as to what I was approximating! It was a mystery to me how I did it but somehow – eventually – I did do it…

 

I had cracked it! I had cracked the nut. I had finally cracked it, although to be honest I had very nearly cracked myself in the process. In some uncanny, unaccountable way I had turned myself into a perfectly credible simulation of a fnoob. I held a masters in fnoobish studies. I had a PhD in advanced fnoobology. I was a professor of the fnoobish arts. I had fnoobishness coming out of my very ears! I was a pure-blooded dyed-in-the-wool through-and-through fnoob. You couldn’t hope to meet a more fnoobish fnoob than me!

 

I ascended to the fnoobosphere, there to imbibe the rich delectable fnooboid essences that were etherically available to all true fnoobs. It was the pure ambrosia of the higher realms and I had complete access to it. I was with every breath drinking in the etheric nectar of the fnoob gods…

 

Just as I was drinking deep – as well I might, having ascended so craftily to the fnoobosphere – things suddenly took a very nasty turn. A very nasty and entirely unexpected turn. I has a revelation and everything turned bad in an instant. It all turned around on me. All my hard work rebounded in a very painful way. I realized at that moment of drinking most deeply of the sacred etheric ambrosia that there was no such thing as a fnoob. There was no such thing as fnoobishness or fnoobology. There was no such thing as the state of fnoobhood or fnooboid behaviour. There was no fnoobworld, no fnoobosphere, and no etheric fnoobian ambrosia to be had there. My mind had somehow made it all up…

 

 

 

 

 

 

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