When entering WTF Headquarters, the first thing you notice is the office of the “Man With Many Names” who is known here as “Wildman”. He has a desk detailed in gold, a magnificent bar, another guy named “Sammy” that’s always there and no one knows why. He gets a massage every day from a cute girl named “Twinkle,” and when he is hammered, he drinks with his pinkie extended.
Wildman gets the best office because, around the WTF? headquarters, it’s not how many words you write, but how many words you know. He knows many words. His very inimitable and warped sense of humor is served to the audience in a copious, amusing, and delightful prose that is sophisticated, inspirational, and even poignant. On the other hand, Wildman is capable of exercising a strident jocularity, an abhorrence of inanity, and a healthy appreciation for the ridiculous, which is why we work so well together.
Nevertheless, Wildman is an exhibition of linguistic dexterity, eccentric interludes, and an exclusive brand of jocularity. On the other hand, I no speak goodly.
Just past Wildman’s expansive office is the workplace of Modesty Fiona Blaise, a lovely office that was specifically designed for a stress-free and productive environment, all done up in blue.
Modesty is a sweet, hilarious, caring, and very wise lady who writes about her life and her observations about the shared absurdities that we experience in life with the grace of a ballet dancer and the humor of Bombeck mixed with a little Marx (that would be Groucho, and NOT Karl.)
She also causes a LOT of trouble.
Many is the time that we will stop by the wine bar for a couple of glasses before heading home, only to be later embroiled in a situation involving a secret plane rendezvous on an airstrip in the middle of nowhere, and a secret message to Marvin, who I don’t know, but who owns a shop in Minnesota where you can get…stuff. And things that I won’t go into detail about.
If you make it past her opulent office, (I suppose it’s opulent. I haven’t seen it, and I don’t know what the word “opulent” really means…I need to steal George’s Thesaurus…) you come to the suite in which tirelessly works our Fearless Leader, Sparky.
Sparky Murphy: The Stuff Of Legend.
Tough as nails. Irish, you know…and Sicilian, which means she can cuss like a sailor in Liverpool port and then cut you with the flick knife she carries in her right boot.
I’M. NOT. JOKING. ABOUT. THAT.
Sparky is very generous, very caring, very funny. Her writing is a little like Mod’s in that you can be reading along, taking in the story and finding yourself amused at the situation described, and then a line will hit you: a line with just the perfect twist, the exact amount of punch, the right amount of spit on the ball. It’s a line that will have you laughing until you compose yourself, read a little more, and get smacked in the face with another great line that has that correct angle on the slice, with a generous amount of sarcasm and the knowledge that every once in a while, you have to bow to the absurd.
What is different about Sparky’s writing compared to Modesty’s is their viewpoint: As you can read on WTF?: Modesty will go to dinner at a Mob restaurant and be sitting in the middle of the room when a champagne cork pops and a shoot-out almost starts, whereas Sparky will go to a bonfire party with exploding beer.
Besides all that, she is the Editor for WTF?, works on the artwork and the look and feel of our site. We all may contribute to this wonderful thing called WTF? but this is Sparky’s baby, and we wouldn’t want it any other way.
Anyway, she knows where everything is and she has dirt on all of us.
Serious dirt. Dirt that will NEVER wash out.
Everyone here, including our contributing writers like Frankie J, Carrie Randworth, and ‘Bildo’, has the ability to look into the face of the general absurdity, willful ignorance and outright stupidity that surrounds us every day, in an almost institutionalized kind of way, and laugh at it.
WTF? Was started by Sparky. A funny blog about funny things told by a person who knew how to tell a funny story in a way that made the story hilarious, She invited Mod in, and they carried on like two mad peas in a weird pod until they made the completely daft and unfathomable decision to bring me on to see if they could harness the mental hilarity that comes springing naturally from my brain, much like Tesla and electricity, except not.
Wildman came in to Straighten Us Out. To give us a high bar to shoot for. To have his assistant answer his fan mail and take his suits to the cleaners. Then Bildo contributed, and Carrie, and Frankie…
Talent piled all the way up to the rafters!
Well, I’m down in the basement…working…