I
MW: I’ve got another idea. Every time I take a bite, I sneeze on it, and then I eat it. I pick it up, I sneeze on it, and then eat it. I need an air of mystery. No one would know why I did it. What do you guys think? Air of mystery?
HW: I think you should sneeze over your left shoulder. Sneeze three times over your left shoulder and then take a bite.
H: I wonder if C will ever be normal. I think about that sometimes.
C: I don’t think so. My brain would have a meltdown.
H: Can’t take you anywhere...See, I can at least pretend to be normal.
C: I can, I just don’t want to.
H: Yeah, that’s probably it.
II
NR: ...and if this jenga game is the game of truth, and we ask a ouija board, I hope to find out you never had a wedgie...
N: My food’s all happy in my stomach. My stomach’s all happy with my food. I love that sound of digestion. It’s like ‘(just imagine it. seriously. random letters would not do it justice.)’ Whale sounds.
Fr: Alright. High five for foreskin. On that note...
Al: I was making my car dance the other day. Just moving the wheel back and forth...
F: What about the people you hit?
A: They didn’t mind. I was grooving.
F: A grasshopper walks into a bar. The bartender says, ‘We have a drink named after you.’ The grasshopper says, ‘You have a drink named Steve?’...I don’t know if that’s a joke.
A: It’s not a joke. The bartender’s a racist.
A: It must be sweet to live near here. I’d tunnel through the floors to steal beer.
N: And then you could eat pregnant children.
F: ‘Eat pregnant children.’ That’s beautiful, N. You’re a real poet.
F: Was that your foot? Can I step on it, just to make sure?
A: There is a line.
F: There is no line.
N: The line is made of cocaine.
N: Stop beating that chair up! What has it ever done to you?
F: It touched my bum.
N: So has N! And not this one...
A: What?
N: Nothing.
III
T: At the dance club, we had the U.S. Open. Which was not as interesting as gay porn, but it was an interesting juxtaposition: Latin dance and tennis. Are you going to write that down? You’re not writing anything down; I’m not up to my usual standard.
T: I was thinking, while I was dancing with a guy, and he was actually quite good, although, I don’t actually remember his name, which doesn’t bode well for a relationship...
C: It’s not participatory. I just absorb.
T: We’re like complete diametrical opposites. I’m like, public display! Public display of dancing!
C:...I do burst into song randomly.
T: So do I! Yay, we’re still friends!
T: The ‘nest seeking food’ one creeped Mco out.
C: That one was creepy. If I were the type to get nightmares, that would give me nightmares. Only it would be a penguin nest.
T: Penguins don’t build nests; I’m sorry.
C: It’s my dream. My dreams can be whatever they want.
T: My dreams are of shoes.
C: *disgusted look*
MW: I’ve got another idea. Every time I take a bite, I sneeze on it, and then I eat it. I pick it up, I sneeze on it, and then eat it. I need an air of mystery. No one would know why I did it. What do you guys think? Air of mystery?
HW: I think you should sneeze over your left shoulder. Sneeze three times over your left shoulder and then take a bite.
H: I wonder if C will ever be normal. I think about that sometimes.
C: I don’t think so. My brain would have a meltdown.
H: Can’t take you anywhere...See, I can at least pretend to be normal.
C: I can, I just don’t want to.
H: Yeah, that’s probably it.
II
NR: ...and if this jenga game is the game of truth, and we ask a ouija board, I hope to find out you never had a wedgie...
N: My food’s all happy in my stomach. My stomach’s all happy with my food. I love that sound of digestion. It’s like ‘(just imagine it. seriously. random letters would not do it justice.)’ Whale sounds.
Fr: Alright. High five for foreskin. On that note...
Al: I was making my car dance the other day. Just moving the wheel back and forth...
F: What about the people you hit?
A: They didn’t mind. I was grooving.
F: A grasshopper walks into a bar. The bartender says, ‘We have a drink named after you.’ The grasshopper says, ‘You have a drink named Steve?’...I don’t know if that’s a joke.
A: It’s not a joke. The bartender’s a racist.
A: It must be sweet to live near here. I’d tunnel through the floors to steal beer.
N: And then you could eat pregnant children.
F: ‘Eat pregnant children.’ That’s beautiful, N. You’re a real poet.
F: Was that your foot? Can I step on it, just to make sure?
A: There is a line.
F: There is no line.
N: The line is made of cocaine.
N: Stop beating that chair up! What has it ever done to you?
F: It touched my bum.
N: So has N! And not this one...
A: What?
N: Nothing.
III
T: At the dance club, we had the U.S. Open. Which was not as interesting as gay porn, but it was an interesting juxtaposition: Latin dance and tennis. Are you going to write that down? You’re not writing anything down; I’m not up to my usual standard.
T: I was thinking, while I was dancing with a guy, and he was actually quite good, although, I don’t actually remember his name, which doesn’t bode well for a relationship...
C: It’s not participatory. I just absorb.
T: We’re like complete diametrical opposites. I’m like, public display! Public display of dancing!
C:...I do burst into song randomly.
T: So do I! Yay, we’re still friends!
T: The ‘nest seeking food’ one creeped Mco out.
C: That one was creepy. If I were the type to get nightmares, that would give me nightmares. Only it would be a penguin nest.
T: Penguins don’t build nests; I’m sorry.
C: It’s my dream. My dreams can be whatever they want.
T: My dreams are of shoes.
C: *disgusted look*
T: What do the symbols mean?
C: Peace and tranquility.
T: Useful. In a librarian’s job, compassion is very handy. “I can’t find who won the 1936 100 metre dash!” Actually, sadly, I know it was Percy Owens.
(Jesse)
T: That could be my superpower! I degoth things! It’s better than having my feet stretch to fit my shoes...
C: That would be a really unique community event.
T: Community bonding through orgy...that cake is the source of so many quotes by now...”Let us gather together to welcome the new members of our community...make them really feel at home...get to know them really well...'
C: Really really well...
T: You don’t know someone? Have sex with them; you’ll know them a lot better.
C: Not always. Physically, anyhow, but...
T: Well, people make a lot of sex as communication....I’m inspired here. It’s horrible that my greatest inspiration comes from sex...on the other hand, would you rather it came from Chinese relative clauses?
T: Well, I don’t know. If I went to a community event and I saw a cake the size of this table...well, that ‘I’ is rather dominating, it’s rather constraining and individualistic, against this whole community bonding thing...
C:...Well...maybe it’s a Scientology Church, a cult! Maybe it’s for a cult!
T: (pensively) You know, I still sometimes wake in the night thinking I have a physics assignment due.
C: Yeah, me too.
T: (bursts into laughter) I want that written down...Damn you Mr. B! He retired that very fucking year! You’re going to mark down the very fact that I swore about physics.
C: It doesn’t happen often.
T: No it doesn’t. I have a few trigger points. Like yours are hockey and gay rights, mine are physics class, I don’t swear about physics...Co-op, cancer...very occasionally the Atlantic Ocean...
T: N should meet more gay Asians. Really, where do all the gay Asians hang out?
C: I’m not even going to give the context for that.
T: Math contests.
C: That is so stereotypical!
T: I’m saving myself the trouble of thinking, here...actually, I know a lot of mathematicians, but most of them have wives.
C: Actually, I think ikebana (Japanese flower arranging, for the uninformed). You know, beauty, but Asian...
T: Calligraphy. Black belt competitions....people are going to read this and think we’re so homophobic, when it’s just the opposite...
T: C, I think you attract strange people.
C: I love strange people. They make life so much better.
T: No wonder when WR is hanging out with you she stops believing in sane people...I have a strong feeling that if I concentrate I’ll make up a song called ‘Do you believe in sanity?’
C: You should!
T: Sane-sanity: a classic case of trisyllabic shortening.
C: Actually, I was trying to explain that to H the other day.
T: What? Sanity, or trisyllabic shortening?
C: Trisyllabic shortening. What do I know about sanity? Actually, was it H? maybe it was N. I think maybe it was.
T: Does it matter? You said H.
C: (muttering) I think perhaps it was N. I’m not often awake the same time as H anymore...I know it was in some conversation or other...or was it at work? Maybe...I do remember discussing trisyllabic shortening...
T: I know! Amsterdam! There is a monument to gay rights in Amsterdam! There must be gay people in Amsterdam and some of them must be gay--corr--Asian!
T: Or New York! I’m sure there are gay Asians in New York.
C: You never let go of an idea, do you? Anyway, it’s not where they are, it’s where they hang out.
T:...New York Fashion Week! Maybe you shouldn’t post so much of my discussion.
T: Are you staring at me trying to picture me have an affair with Margaret Thatcher?
C: Yes.
T: How is it working?
C: Not well. Not well at all.
T: Ok, can you picture we having an affair with Pablo Neruda or something?...Is that working any better?
C: A little....I think there’s be too much conflict to personalities with you and Margaret Thatcher. You’d beat her up.
T: I can be submissive if I want to....all people know about me comes from your notes because they’re public and my profile’s private!
C: No, I changed the settings, so only my friends can see it.
T: Thank you!!!!!
T: I spent two hours following a guy yesterday.
C: Oh, you’re a stalker.
T: No, in dance. Following his lead.
T: I want to go through here!
C: Ok! Sketchy park it is!
T: Maybe that’s where all the gay As...I doubt it, I merely said it as a joke because I knew you would hit me.
C: You are an idiot.
T: It’s also funny to watch you walk and write things down. I am an idiot, but I am a sadistic idiot.
C: And a dork.
T: (laughs) And a dork. ‘Sadistic dork’ kind of has a ring...
T: I always expand your horizons when you’re with me.
C: Ah, horizon expandage.
T: Horizons are overrated.
T: Shallow water. At least it looks shallow, but I don’t want to find out. (C lightly shoves T) There is a fence.
C: Yes, but I have mystical fence-shovage powers.
T: Yes, but my degothing powers can counter your fence-shoving powers.
C: Fence-shovage. Get it right. Anyway, I don’t see how that would work.
T: I’m not in the water, am I?
C: No, but how would degothing counter fence-shovage powers?
T: I made you not shove me in.
C: I restrained myself.
T: Because of my degothing powers.
C: No! It was a choice!
C: You are a reject. Nobody likes you. You’re just going to have to sit in a corner and cry.
T: No, I’m going to sit in a corner and salsa.
C: Sit?
T: Yeah, you can kind of handle the weight transfer when sitting.
IV
MS: So I got up in the morning, hung over as a fucking....seal
St: From being clubbed.
M: I didn’t say a baby seal.
S: Yeah, I figure if you’ve cuddled with someone, you have to be their friend.
N: You can’t really have a hatred cuddle.
M: I need to have sex tonight!
N: Get the halogen!
M: Get the spotlight, baby!
M: Holy shit, I love my life. I love a life where I can have this kind of conversation. abs, babs, nabs...
N: flabs...
M: I’m famuuuu!
M: Lick my fucking ass you whores. I’m going for a pee.
S: Don’t pee long.
M: No more than three shakes.
N: And no little wiggle at the end.
M: Why not?! I love the wiggle!
M: CC’s known N a long time.
S: Long enough to know about his solar-powered penis?
N: That’s going to be, like, my new Facebook...
M: ‘N is recharging his solar-powered penis....I feel you need to write a song about this. A song about a solar-powered penis. And you learn to play it on guitar.
N: On an organ! A hymn!
...
M: If it’s a hymn, we should do like a Gregorian chant. A Gregorian chant about your solar-powered penis.
S: On the mouth organ.
Carl: Dork.
M: I is dwarf. I bring axe.
?: He said ‘dork,’ not ‘dwarf.’
M: It reminded me of a cartoon...
M: We should do it in Latin!
N: I could do that!
C: Or pig Latin.
M: Olar-say...enis-pay...
C: Owered-pay...
M: Olar-say owered-pay enis-pay...
M: I actually really enjoy it. I was looking at myself in the mirror when I was peeing....
Ch: I love how he can’t finish that sentence...
M: I’m not even going to try.
AV: That sounds kinda naughty.
Ch: What does?
C: nabs.
M: I’m kinda naughty. I get coal in my stocking every Christmas...no really, I do. My family’s poor...Conversation killer! I love it. My family isn’t poor.
C: Peace and tranquility.
T: Useful. In a librarian’s job, compassion is very handy. “I can’t find who won the 1936 100 metre dash!” Actually, sadly, I know it was Percy Owens.
(Jesse)
T: That could be my superpower! I degoth things! It’s better than having my feet stretch to fit my shoes...
C: That would be a really unique community event.
T: Community bonding through orgy...that cake is the source of so many quotes by now...”Let us gather together to welcome the new members of our community...make them really feel at home...get to know them really well...'
C: Really really well...
T: You don’t know someone? Have sex with them; you’ll know them a lot better.
C: Not always. Physically, anyhow, but...
T: Well, people make a lot of sex as communication....I’m inspired here. It’s horrible that my greatest inspiration comes from sex...on the other hand, would you rather it came from Chinese relative clauses?
T: Well, I don’t know. If I went to a community event and I saw a cake the size of this table...well, that ‘I’ is rather dominating, it’s rather constraining and individualistic, against this whole community bonding thing...
C:...Well...maybe it’s a Scientology Church, a cult! Maybe it’s for a cult!
T: (pensively) You know, I still sometimes wake in the night thinking I have a physics assignment due.
C: Yeah, me too.
T: (bursts into laughter) I want that written down...Damn you Mr. B! He retired that very fucking year! You’re going to mark down the very fact that I swore about physics.
C: It doesn’t happen often.
T: No it doesn’t. I have a few trigger points. Like yours are hockey and gay rights, mine are physics class, I don’t swear about physics...Co-op, cancer...very occasionally the Atlantic Ocean...
T: N should meet more gay Asians. Really, where do all the gay Asians hang out?
C: I’m not even going to give the context for that.
T: Math contests.
C: That is so stereotypical!
T: I’m saving myself the trouble of thinking, here...actually, I know a lot of mathematicians, but most of them have wives.
C: Actually, I think ikebana (Japanese flower arranging, for the uninformed). You know, beauty, but Asian...
T: Calligraphy. Black belt competitions....people are going to read this and think we’re so homophobic, when it’s just the opposite...
T: C, I think you attract strange people.
C: I love strange people. They make life so much better.
T: No wonder when WR is hanging out with you she stops believing in sane people...I have a strong feeling that if I concentrate I’ll make up a song called ‘Do you believe in sanity?’
C: You should!
T: Sane-sanity: a classic case of trisyllabic shortening.
C: Actually, I was trying to explain that to H the other day.
T: What? Sanity, or trisyllabic shortening?
C: Trisyllabic shortening. What do I know about sanity? Actually, was it H? maybe it was N. I think maybe it was.
T: Does it matter? You said H.
C: (muttering) I think perhaps it was N. I’m not often awake the same time as H anymore...I know it was in some conversation or other...or was it at work? Maybe...I do remember discussing trisyllabic shortening...
T: I know! Amsterdam! There is a monument to gay rights in Amsterdam! There must be gay people in Amsterdam and some of them must be gay--corr--Asian!
T: Or New York! I’m sure there are gay Asians in New York.
C: You never let go of an idea, do you? Anyway, it’s not where they are, it’s where they hang out.
T:...New York Fashion Week! Maybe you shouldn’t post so much of my discussion.
T: Are you staring at me trying to picture me have an affair with Margaret Thatcher?
C: Yes.
T: How is it working?
C: Not well. Not well at all.
T: Ok, can you picture we having an affair with Pablo Neruda or something?...Is that working any better?
C: A little....I think there’s be too much conflict to personalities with you and Margaret Thatcher. You’d beat her up.
T: I can be submissive if I want to....all people know about me comes from your notes because they’re public and my profile’s private!
C: No, I changed the settings, so only my friends can see it.
T: Thank you!!!!!
T: I spent two hours following a guy yesterday.
C: Oh, you’re a stalker.
T: No, in dance. Following his lead.
T: I want to go through here!
C: Ok! Sketchy park it is!
T: Maybe that’s where all the gay As...I doubt it, I merely said it as a joke because I knew you would hit me.
C: You are an idiot.
T: It’s also funny to watch you walk and write things down. I am an idiot, but I am a sadistic idiot.
C: And a dork.
T: (laughs) And a dork. ‘Sadistic dork’ kind of has a ring...
T: I always expand your horizons when you’re with me.
C: Ah, horizon expandage.
T: Horizons are overrated.
T: Shallow water. At least it looks shallow, but I don’t want to find out. (C lightly shoves T) There is a fence.
C: Yes, but I have mystical fence-shovage powers.
T: Yes, but my degothing powers can counter your fence-shoving powers.
C: Fence-shovage. Get it right. Anyway, I don’t see how that would work.
T: I’m not in the water, am I?
C: No, but how would degothing counter fence-shovage powers?
T: I made you not shove me in.
C: I restrained myself.
T: Because of my degothing powers.
C: No! It was a choice!
C: You are a reject. Nobody likes you. You’re just going to have to sit in a corner and cry.
T: No, I’m going to sit in a corner and salsa.
C: Sit?
T: Yeah, you can kind of handle the weight transfer when sitting.
IV
MS: So I got up in the morning, hung over as a fucking....seal
St: From being clubbed.
M: I didn’t say a baby seal.
S: Yeah, I figure if you’ve cuddled with someone, you have to be their friend.
N: You can’t really have a hatred cuddle.
M: I need to have sex tonight!
N: Get the halogen!
M: Get the spotlight, baby!
M: Holy shit, I love my life. I love a life where I can have this kind of conversation. abs, babs, nabs...
N: flabs...
M: I’m famuuuu!
M: Lick my fucking ass you whores. I’m going for a pee.
S: Don’t pee long.
M: No more than three shakes.
N: And no little wiggle at the end.
M: Why not?! I love the wiggle!
M: CC’s known N a long time.
S: Long enough to know about his solar-powered penis?
N: That’s going to be, like, my new Facebook...
M: ‘N is recharging his solar-powered penis....I feel you need to write a song about this. A song about a solar-powered penis. And you learn to play it on guitar.
N: On an organ! A hymn!
...
M: If it’s a hymn, we should do like a Gregorian chant. A Gregorian chant about your solar-powered penis.
S: On the mouth organ.
Carl: Dork.
M: I is dwarf. I bring axe.
?: He said ‘dork,’ not ‘dwarf.’
M: It reminded me of a cartoon...
M: We should do it in Latin!
N: I could do that!
C: Or pig Latin.
M: Olar-say...enis-pay...
C: Owered-pay...
M: Olar-say owered-pay enis-pay...
M: I actually really enjoy it. I was looking at myself in the mirror when I was peeing....
Ch: I love how he can’t finish that sentence...
M: I’m not even going to try.
AV: That sounds kinda naughty.
Ch: What does?
C: nabs.
M: I’m kinda naughty. I get coal in my stocking every Christmas...no really, I do. My family’s poor...Conversation killer! I love it. My family isn’t poor.
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