Laundry Hour

A little bird has just informed us that last night, a very public spat rocked the world of tuchchadom*. One would be tempted to gloss over the case entirely except that it touches something very dear to us – no, not that, you filthy perv – free speech. And it was being defended from the unlikeliest of quarters, by a woman who works with the Ministry of Truth**, whose monopoly over news media continues to put us tabloids out of business.

While the jury has unanimously found the plaintiff Ms. Durbeen to be firmly in the right, the defendant Mr. Chak-chak-chak Norris’s case was an interesting one, for it was based almost entirely on Clause (d) of Article Pi, Appendix 121/4: Humour owns all, suckers!

Mr. Norris has acquired considerable fame as an arbitrageur – finding ways to make short jokes where other people only see long emails. He has been providing the world with humour since 1993, which was when he had his first letter-writing class. Since then, there has been no going back for this literary giant, and he was recently elected with much aplomb as WIMWI’s own Minister of Muggudom. His daily digest during the auction week has been such an awaited event in the campus calendar, that often dorm dinners have been postponed in their expectation.

Last night, it appears Mr. Norris composed his magnum opus, a private email to the plaintiff, copied to the Minister of Truth himself. After much deliberation, the jury decided that Mr. Norris’s email, though without merit, was ridiculously funny and therefore automatically placed him in the right. However, under sub-clause (e) of the above paragraph – when read backwards and very fast – emails as priceless as his do not belong to one man, but to all mankind. They must be shared with the entire campus and are not meant for mere individual satisfaction, no matter how close he was to the plaintiff in question. Mr. Norris was thus pronounced guilty of depriving the masses and sentenced to three hundred lines of imposition, which will be doled out in manageable quantities over the next week.

* The capital of Lukkhadom, which is believed to be paradise in all major religions of Fuchchadom

** Not to be confused with the Ministry of Silly Walks, whose building is similarly shaped in the form of a giant middle finger.

Raison d'être

We have received numerous emails these past few hours, most of them bursting with questions. Some ask who we are and why we exist, some express undying adulation. The others are not worth mentioning.

We have decided to step in and clear the air with a short conference. The press may please take their seats. Ignore the chewing gum on the benches. You may however enjoy the rather distracting sketches - I drew them myself.

Yes, the gentleman at the back - the one with the bar-code on the back of his T-shirt - please turn off that cell phone. Don't you really wish you were here?

Please note that we will be grading your participation. Shoot.

Who are you?

We are fake WIMWIans and we like our onions diced. We would also like to think we are playas. ;) In truth, we are brothers-in-arms. In legs, we are somewhat disjointed. (One of us even shaves them, but you can be sure there will be no admissions in that regard.)
We were born out of the union of a washerwoman and an exhibitionist, hence this childlike fascination for washing dirty linen in public. We take our inspiration from uncyclopedia.wikia.com.

Why this blog, and why now?

We are jobless. And because there is no time like now.
Wtf is this blog about would have been a much finer question. Well, I'll take it up nevertheless: we are not a satire - or at any rate, we suck at that sort of thing, so let's not go there. Also, W.T.F. is not behind this blog - at least, not officially.
The Fake WIMWI Playa merely offers an alternate opinion, the kind that doesn't make it to the glossy brochures. We are, in effect, the fifth estate.

Don't you think this blog will tarnish WIMWI's image?

Do you honestly think anyone outside WIMWI would care to read this? And puh-lease, we know we don't write nearly well enough to generate a fan following. Tarnishing WIMWI's image was never our agenda. In any case, whatever we write here is fake. Really fake. We come neither to bury WIMWI nor to praise it.

How long do you intend to keep this up?

As long as our attention spans last. And then we'll move on to something more fun, and illuminating, leaving the reins in trusted hands.

Have you joined the mess?

Is that a rhetorical question?
Alright, that's it folks, time for a bio break. Had a lot of onions today.