After 32 hours of cleaning, 5 hours of putting
crazy crap on the wall and, 2 months of anxiety, it has all
come to fruition. My first guest,
the kid, bussed across
the lengths of the land after a few '
parent friendly' emails wherein his mother called my party 'a program'.
Fustflum is like no other seventeen year old I have ever met. He is articulate, witty, and astoundingly intelligent. (Not that I wasn't at his age)
He seemed to take a shine to
my lovely best friend Melissa who shall henceforth be known by her super hero name
Orgasmatazz. Who wouldn't be enamored by Orgasmatazz? She is everything a man or woman could desire: funny, brilliant, well traveled, and extraordinarily beautiful. I keep her around for just such occasions.
The other noders were late as most humans are. I played
the worst version of Minuet in G ever for
fustflum trying to keep my fidgeting down to a minimum. I am pretty sure this is what inspired him to leave a paper trail of nodes leading to my door hoping
the nodeshell rescue team would come and fill them. On a side note my neighbors apparently didn't like
I like to be happy, or
Jessicapierce. Both nodes were removed from the hallway, and my cat,
Stumpy McSporkmouth, threw up her ingested string on
Lesbians, Monkeys, SOY the following morning. Fustflum and I shouted Everything node titles from the balcony as our desperate beacon for lost noders. We actually terrified one woman away by merely screaming, "SOY!" at her. Orgasmataz did not understand our
geeky Everythingisms, but I think we have a convert. Look for her under some dragonfly related handle, as her propensity to like bugs is her
claim to geek fame.
I had just attached some directions to the
whirlyball joint on my door, and was packing my very small party up when
the Indiana representative phoned.
Brainwave/he was a sweet brainy ferret-like physics coder man. Springy, and kind, he drove us immediately to the
whirlyball parking lot where my good friend
Clampe had been waiting for quite some time. Clampe is an
entertainer extraordanaire.
You wouldn't believe what this boy will do for 30 bucks. He charmed the guests with tales of
thefez as a boy, and his
Olympic cunnilingus gold medal joke is always a
crowd pleaser.
Clampe,
Brainwave, and
fustflum shared top secret Everything information in the lot while Melissa and I pointed at each passing plane shouting, "VOID! We were Hoping
Void_Ptr, the lost half of
the Holland contingent, would parachute out and kick some ass on the whirlyball court. Our hour had begun and we were still just 5. The half a whirlyball team was about to depart when Void_Ptr and her
evil overlord husband came spinning around the corner. I feel like I have known Void through my
low level stalking on her
web cam at
chernabog.imagegroup.com. She was much more animated and
intensely sexy in person. She is so much more than I had known her to be and I really liked her before that night. Her husband was the
Master of the whirlyball court. I swear I hit that net 3 times even if the sensors disagree.
I'm glad the evil overlord was on my team. Some people thought the idea of an
amalgam of lacrosse and basketball played in bumper cars was even too geeky for us, but
I made believers of them all. Whirlyball was
a hoot.
Nauseous and banged up we decided to leave further instructions for the ever absent
nieken and whatever other random noders may show up at my door, then press on for some
fine Ethiopian cuisine at
NPR's supporter
The Blue Nile.
Clampe led us on a tour of
liberal Ann Arbor and
U of M's campus in some charming Michigan rain. Then we headed back to my humble apartment for some heavy drinking, music, performance pieces and a wet T-shirt contest. I really shouldn't have imbibed all that
tokillya and Indianna
mead, but I rather enjoyed listening to my friends new and old discuss the
if questions provided, and make coding jokes that I wouldn't understand even if I weren't
cocktailed. I still have no idea what a
void pointer is.
I found out the next day that we kept missing
nieken via his
on missing the midwest bathtub jam node. He shoulda knocked at 5AM.
We were up. We were intoxicated. We were seven. This was just enough to play whirlyball. Just enough for really interesting and fluid conversations, and just enough for the allotted floor space. We even managed to make
fustflum forget how to do math before he shipped off at 8 am.
Lets hear it for Cannibas!
The morning after was much more lethargic. The remaining survivors stormed
The Broken Egg and the glorious campus much less fervently than the night before.
The mischievous Void_ Ptr may never be allowed on University property again, but we were so close to taking over the world. The last of the Mohicans departed around 7pm Sunday. As for the
licentious details of the evening, you will just have to use your imagination. I feel close to these people. Far be it from me to go gossiping about this intimate gathering of friends.
Throw your own flesh meet, or send 30$ dollars to my PO Box for a manuscript and videotape.
As for you
Nieken, you don't owe me a beer. There is FAR too much alcohol left in this place.
You owe me a blowjob.