A Sad Day for Givers Everywhere

Today, we urge our fellow caring souls to join us in a bout of heartfelt mourning. After a long and courageous struggle with having been moderately-to-mostly blown up, a dear friend and a dedicated philanthropist has passed away, and we’d like to take the time to honor one of the OGFWBTSMBKP’s brightest stars, figuratively and literally, intern Reese Huckletuck

Many of you will recall the picture we posted a few weeks back in commemoration of our glorious return to the world of obscuro-eleemosynaranism.
While at a glance it may look like a stolen stock photo, crudely photoshopped and slapped online at the tail end of a four month long development cycle fueled by Sudafed, frosted poptarts and self-aggrandizement, we assure you this not entirely the case. The aberrations in the image are the result of a very real photo shoot gone terribly, terribly wrong.

You see, rather than simply taking a picture of the staff and harmlessly adding the heart background later through the miracle of digital picture manipulation, we wanted our radiant love to feel authentic, powerful. Pure. So we constructed a giant, heart-shaped ball of thermite and dosed the whole thing in a few gallons of nitro. This was, in hindsight, a bad idea, and many of our interns, Reese included, were brave enough to say as much. With a hail of empty threats and accusations of cowardice, we proceeded, but in our defense, they can’t remember half-caf, two sugars, two creams, but suddenly they’re all experts in pyrotechnic safety? No. We don’t think so. Sorry.
So, after we fired up the love-ball, Reese, pictured above third from the right (w/o torso), had only moments before her Guatemalan fair-trade sweater, composed entirely of recycled dried twigs and dehydrated switch grass, engulfed her like a socially-responsible solar flare. By the time the photographer had taken the shot, 70% of her midriff had been lost to the flames.

Counter to all known medical science, Reese survived thanks to the efforts of one roguish doctor who’s never been afraid of defying the odds…or playing by his own rules.
Lacking in social graces and boundlessly arrogant he may be, but the man is the country’s leading specialist in poignant Deus Ex Machina, not to mention his in-your-face charisma more than makes up for his staff’s relative banality. Until just recently he had kept Reese alive through an elaborate rig of machines that he assured us “just might work,” and did, except for hour-long intervals every Monday night at eight (seven central) when Reese would come down with mysterious symptoms that invariably lead to high-octane interpersonal drama.

Good times. Dwelling was certain he could perpetuate Reese’s state of freakish undeath well into the foreseeable future, but tragically, it was not to be. We here at the Organization decided to hold a roadside candlelight vigil to showcase our solidarity with our felled friend, but since Reese and the vast array of machines keeping her alive were stored in a window-less clean room, we had make it a bedside candlelight vigil instead. In what is now a terribly obvious oversight, the visage of slowly advancing fire held some unfortunate associations for poor Reese.

The chase was spirited but brief. She made it halfway down the hall before someone accidentally dropped their candle in the trail of antiseptic she’d left behind. Her screams echoed down the hospital corridors, and with her dying breath she cursed us with the unholy magicks of her white middle-class ancestry. It was a horrifying and unspeakable sight that will stay with all of us until our dying day. Then Dr. Dwelling made a pithy comment about barbeque. We were all thinking it, but he actually said it! That guy!

But all dry witticisms aside, it was a profound tragedy, and everyone here is dealing with such a deep sense of loss that we've decided to respectfully cancel Margarita Monday: The Wednesday Edition here at the office. Reese will forever be our little road flare of courage, igniting our hearts with the bravery to stand tall for what we believe in and always be true to ourselves. We're sure these sentiments would've meant a lot to Reese had we ever asked her about them.

On a lighter note, next month our Pennzoil Plus/Schlotzsky's Deli Great Tibetan Manhunt/Pastrami Round Up will be winding to a close, with the induction of a new member being announced! Our crack team of profilers are still running applicants through our focus groups and sympathy panels, and we still have room for your application! So log in next month, and remember, continue to give, continue to dream.

Namaste.

Oh, and RIP Reese, you will be missed, fly free little bird, sorry so sloppy.

Regarding Norbu...

For those non-premium members that haven’t been receiving the monthly newsletter, The OGFWBlian, a brief recap is in order: In the wake of January’s benefit concert, one of our two beloved aid recipients, Norbu Samdhup, grew irate upon receiving the latest post-celebration relief shipment of half-eaten hors d’oeuvres and tarnished slacks. Norbu, having never actually requested or applied for aid, is well known in the Organization for her unruly behavior whenever we’ve delivered containers of donations/refuse, and in this instance grew so agitated that Organization officials had to restrain her so they could finish offloading three metric tons of aged shellfish into her yard.
A short time later we received a cease and desist order from a rural Chinese magistrate by-way-of Interpol, and had to halt our noble endeavors until we could prove to the overseer of the Nakchu Prefecture that we were not intentionally breaking international sanitation laws.
So, betrayed by one of our benefactors, faced with indefinite hiatus, and certain that a few metric tons of rotten shellfish was waiting for us in an evidence locker somewhere, we knew the chips were down, and we were going to lose it all if we didn’t play every card available to us. Even if that meant performing some…not-so-sporting deeds. Like exploiting the Chinese government’s seething hatred of Tibet. Now, we need to make it clear that we staunchly oppose China’s brutal suppression of Tibet, its people, and its culture, and we condemn the continued, illegal occupation of that great and noble land.
It’s just that, as Americans, our fierce indignation doesn’t mean we can’t shamelessly take advantage of the situation. As our corporate and political leaders well know, China’s contempt for basic human dignity has certain perks that today’s savvy roundeyes on-the-go can capitalize on! So, after numerous illicit activities our legal department has strongly urged us not to mention, it was revealed during the testimony of several highly-paid eye witnesses that our beloved Norbu was in fact the head of a radical anti-government faction called the Iron Dawn, and had personally led over a dozen daring guerrilla raids against important Chinese military installations.
Some might question how a sickly paraplegic with no travel documentation or combat experience could lead a nationwide revolutionary front, but we will defer to the wisdom of Judge Ji’nan Chonghuai, who will be available for comment upon returning from his anonymously furnished Caribbean Martini Tour. Sadly, this means that Norbu will no longer be able to receive aid directly, as she will be spending the next unspecified duration of decades in a maximum security labor camp. We will continue to send our love, support, and post-party care packages whenever possible, and urge our members to pray for her swift and thorough rehabilitation.
In her honor, we here at the Organization have pledged to ensure the well being and education of her son, Lobsang. We vow to provide him with every advantage and opportunity available, including surrogates, tutors, scholarships, travel visas, free health care - no expense will be spared! He will enjoy the very finest of - um. Hm. We just got the initial estimates on all that. That's...can this be right? That seems really...just, wow. But, um, that's okay, that's okay, we have made a vow and we will not rest until...vows aren't legally binding, right? I mean, it's not like an "on a bible" vow if you just say it, right? Will have to look into that. But yeah, we won't rest until we've paid...and paid, and paid... every last cent of his... advantages. Because little...what's-his-face means so very, very much to...everyone...
Hm.
In a completely unrelated and in no way contextually relevant piece of news, we’d like to welcome our new fall intern, Derek, from the University of Michigan. His hobbies include remaining inconspicuous and not reminding anybody of anyone.