Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!pt.cs.cmu.edu!andrew.cmu.edu!rc0o+ From: rc0o+@andrew.cmu.edu (Robert Leonard Cochran, Jr.) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Yet another entrance Message-ID: Date: 10 Apr 90 10:24:29 GMT Organization: Class of '92, Carnegie Mellon, Pittsburgh, PA Lines: 52 After a few months of lurking outside the door, he finally musters the strength to open it and step in. He is 6 feet tall with blond hair and blue eyes, dressed in his favorite jeans and a T-shirt from some concert or another. Stepping up to the bar, he flips Mike a silver dollar. "Make it an iced tea, Mike" "Thanks." Grabbing the drink, he walks over to the line, looks around, then changes his mind and goes over to sit down at a vacant table. He speaks in a soft but deep voice as he stares into his tea. "Rob's the name, if ye need one. My friends, in the last month, my life has gone completely down the drain. I had some money, I had reasonable grades and I was fairly happy with myself. Then SHE came along. Oh yeah, for a while I was the happiest guy around, floating on the clouds. But like always, it had to end, another guy, ya know? And suddenly....this." He is on his feet standing now. "My grades have plummetted, pretty much no chance of recovery. Furthermore, I've lost all desire to be here. Can't face my parents and tell them I'm flunking out, but there's no way i can avoid it. In a few short weeks, this school will be a memory, as will possibly be my college career. I'm also in debt over my head and can't get out. of that either. My best friends live hundreds if not thousands of miles away." He approaches the line. "Oh well, I guess I don't really know why I'm saying all this, maybe just to get it off my chest, I don't know. Regardless, thanks for listening, for those of you who are still awake." He sips the last of his iced tea and raises the glass. "To Judi, wherever you are!!" *CRASH!!* And with that, he vanishes out the door. +------------------------------+--------------------------------------+ | Robert Cochran Jr. | arpa:rc0o+@andrew.cmu.edu | | Carnegie Mellon University | bitnet: r746rc0o@cmccvb | | Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania | UUCP: !{psuvax1,uunet}!andrew!rc0o+ | +------------------------------+--------------------------------------+ | Go Caps Go Orioles Go Redskins Go Terps | This Space for Rent | +---------------------------------------------------------------------+ Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!pt.cs.cmu.edu!andrew.cmu.edu!+ From: thyst@rush.cc.cmu.edu (Jeffrey Alexander) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Spring flowers Message-ID: <9004100904.AA07538@rush.cc.cmu.edu> Date: 10 Apr 90 09:04:37 GMT Organization: Carnegie Mellon, Pittsburgh, PA Lines: 28 "Hm..." I say, eyeing a rather large collection of tiger kittens and other stray felines by the fireplace. Then "HMMmmmm" as I look towards the bar, at the bottle of violets Nao has placed there. I get up and walk quickly out the door. I return in about six minutes, carrying a medium-sized pot of flowers. They appear to be orchids, but of an unusually dark shade of purple, and with a quite unusual texture -- the petals seem to be sticky and glistening. Striding over to the window nearest the cats, with the intention of placing the pot on the sill, I pass by Nick at the fireplace. He gives me a curious glance. "I just kinda figured they go together," I offer in passing. "What, flowers and kittens?" he asks. The grin is barely noticable. "Cats and jam orchids." I dodge peanut shells all the way back to my table. +--\ __ /--------------------------+----------------------------------+ | \/ \/ thyst@rush.cc.cmu.edu | "The point of the journey | | < <> > (ja1r@andrew.cmu.edu) |___Is not to arrive."_____________| | \__/ | "I prefer to remain anomalous." | +------------------------------------+----------------------------------+ Path: mit-eddie!bu.edu!lll-winken!uunet!wuarchive!psuvax1!xavier!news From: nap92@campus.swarthmore.edu Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: stuff. Message-ID: Date: 10 Apr 90 14:38:21 GMT Sender: news@xavier.swarthmore.edu (USENET News System) Organization: Swarthmore College Lines: 27 Nao skip-changes out of the corner where she has been teaching Eretria Scottish dance steps. Eretria remains, practicing... "Now where did that green kitten go......" She looks around, and immediately finds one.. She sits on the floor in front of it, holding a hand out. She doesn't dare skritch its ears, and looks distinctly unhappy about it. "Oh, James... Strange how it seems to be the season for falling apart. I can't tell you any way to fix your problems; I can only hope that someone else can, or that you can find a way to heal yourself and be happy. I've always been physically affectionate toward those I care for, so this makes me sad. Please stay, at least to read the occasional message. I know it's the end of senior year and all.... but you're part of Callahan's." She stares annoyedly at the Jam Orchids. "Now, that just about drives me Krazy. Kats, on the other hand....." She winks, and heads back into her corner, barely getting caught by the peanuts that fly towards her. -Nao / v \ | Nao Parkhurst | | | nap92@campus.swarthmore.edu | "Blasny, blasny." | | nap92@swarthmr.bitnet | -"The Foreigner" | \ ^ / Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!brutus.cs.uiuc.edu!psuvax1!xavier!quislet From: quislet@cs.swarthmore.edu (Alex) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Controlled schizophrenia Message-ID: Date: 10 Apr 90 16:10:33 GMT Sender: news@xavier.swarthmore.edu (USENET News System) Organization: Crum Woods Lines: 110 Alex's other half, the guy in blue and black who looks just like him except for the cynical and ironic look on his face, gets up from the shadowy corner where he's been watching Alex intently for months. He circles over towards the fire, glancing with amused interest at the fencers, and glancing with something else at the Green Tiger - it might be sympathy, but this chap does not look like an especially sympathetic type. There's something odd about him, a focused, intent look like a pissed-off ferret perhaps. He casually hooks a chair over next to Alex, and begins having a heated discussion. They keep their voices low, so outside folk can't hear much more than the occasional "I told you so" from the dark half, or an insistent "I'm doing FINE, dammit!" from Alex. The argument goes back and forth. The dark one (black thieves' tunic, black sweatpants, blue sweatband keeping the hair out of his eyes) appears confident at first. Hell, this ought to be easy, his attitude clearly states. Alex has been crunched by a real bear of a seminar, the Pre-Post-Baccalaureate-Oh-My-Gods, and of course, the final shot, breaking up with Nao. He ought to be ready for some serious cynicism, some "The world sucks, so get it before it gets you" philosophy. And for a while it looks like he's right. Finally, looking desperate, Alex says "Look, we both fence equally well, so that's out. How about we arm-wrestle for it?" The other grins, confident. The twain grip hands, elbows clamped to the wet-rings on the table, and glare at each other. A stray bamf, peeping over the edge of the table, says "One-two-three-begin!" At the last possible instant before the "Begin," a bunch of disembodied arms reaches through the net-ether to the Place, and brace up Alex's. He is surprised and pleased, smiles at the support, and with renewed energy slams the darker half through the table. Alex turns back to the gang, draws a shaky breath, and says "Whew. Thanks to all of you. I needed that." He gulps down the rest of the milkshake sitting on the table. Glancing at the slumped form on the floor, he says "Unconscious, unfortunately. I wish I could get rid of him on a more permanent basis, but he's too much a part of me. I should count my blessings; four years ago, it was all I could do just to get him to listen to me at all. He was having too much fun - wanted to be a cat burglar, he said. Practised being a thief, for a while. Was pretty good, too. He had no friends at all, really, but he didn't care. He was into the whole rebellion trip. You know the Billy Joel song "Angry Young Man"? That's him all the way." Alex pauses, sheepish. "Of course, saying 'That's him' is kind of ridiculous, when he's me, too. We're the same person, sort of. But I like to think I'm easier to get along with, on the whole. I really like being around people now. The downside, of course, is that I find myself _dependent_ on others nowadays. But its a weakness I can live with." He sits back in his chair, relaxing visibly. "Too much has happened here at the Place since my last posting for me to respond to, but I do have a couple things I want to say. Jilara, as ever, your thoughts are one of the best things about this Place for me. Without knowing it, you've helped a lot. Thanks." He nods at Nick, and says "Glad to have met you, man. And if you find a piece of melted, twisted metal in there, my apologies. That's my most recent milkshake cup. I threw it in there when I wasn't thinking. My apologies." He picks up the Bamf, and lobs it over to Brandi. "Brandi, I like your choice of form. Mr. Wagner has always been a favorite of mine. Especially once he started fencing and swashbuckling." He takes another sip of the milkshake, only to find that the Bamf drank what was left. He sighs. "I enjoy the whole superhero schtick in general, tho' lately Marvel annoys me no end. It's gotten to the point where once a year I write a superhero filk mocking that latest stuff. This year's is to the tune of "My Favorite Things."" He stands up, greeted by a shower of peanuts from the Swarthmore gang (who've heard this already), and declaims in a really lousy singing voice: Punching-bag arrows and gold kryptoni-ite, Short furry men that go in the ni-ite, Handsome blond mutants with broad feathered wings; These are a few of the silliest things. Ninja reptiles and phantom-like zones, Changing in phone booths and bat-telephones, Flash Gordon spaceships and multiple Mings; These are a few of the silliest things. (Chorus) Looking through the Comic boxes I get really mad. There's hundreds on hundreds of comic titles, And most of them are... Sooooooo _bad_. Flying caped heroes who clog up the airways, Millionaires' mansions with dark, hidden stairways, Guy Gardner's ego and willpowered rings; These are a few of the silliest things. Dangling plotlines and Bret Blevins artwork, Sim's letter pages and sword-wielding aadrvarks, Byrne tossing hist'ry away with a fling; These are a few of the silliest things. (Repeat chorus) He sits down again, and says "This is getting kind of long. two last things before I lapse back to lurker status again: never underestimate the relaxing power of a few rounds of archery. It's great stuff. The thwip-thock of arrows is one of my favorite sounds in the world. The other thing is, read _The Tangled Lands_ by Will Shetterley. Not only is it a great book, but I suspect most of the net-Callahans folk will find that it really hits home. It did for me." He orders a fresh chocolate shake, and opens a very ponderous book called "Germany in the High Middle Ages." "Seminar reading..." he says sleepily, and then... fades.. out... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ sawx90@swarthmr "Chivalry is not dead, sawx90@campus.swarthmore.edu it is merely confused..." Alex Weirich in real life: -- from a net.sig by Resident Anachronism someone I don't recall... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!sunybcs!acsu.buffalo.edu From: haskell@acsu.buffalo.edu (william w haskell) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: once upon a dream... Message-ID: <21466@eerie.acsu.Buffalo.EDU> Date: 10 Apr 90 17:06:33 GMT Sender: nobody@acsu.Buffalo.EDU Organization: SUNY at Buffalo Lines: 53 The poet has been sitting pensively in his corner for some time now. At times almost seeming not to exist, for as we all know, that which is motionless for long enough becomes nearly invisible to all of those excpet the weary and the paranoid. He suddenly rises to his feet, and walks to the bar, where he lays a dollar on the bar. "I think I have had enough of the spirits Mike. Give me a Mountain Dew. I think I may have finally found myself somewhere. I am not really sure who I am yet, but that will come in time. "He steps forward to the chalkline, and opens his notebook while balancing the drink in his other hand. My hands have been barren as of late. Not much have I been able to write. It is at times like these that I am lost. Something that has happened recently has unburied the stone for which I have been searching. I know not what it may be, but somehting tells me that when I am meant to know, I will. "Last night I began to write again. I founf the well that is within me once again. I found all manners of things that Iknew not I posessed. Perhaps it is that some cared for me. Even those that I know not. I would wish to thank these people, but I am not sure what to thank them for yet, so I will wait. I wrote much last night, but I shall only burden you with one short verse this day... "...what is lost upon the soul find a kindred spirit and kindle the flame watch light rise from darkness verity from shame love from amber coals diamonds from dust Feel what grows inside of you love.... "To love then. I forgot for a long time that love exists always, and that we must begin by loving all, before we may love any." He drains his drink, and "fires" the glass into the hearth. ( Sorry, I couldn't resist. ) The poet walks back to his corner, but with more of a bounce in his step than any have seen in a time. there might even be the touch of a smile on his lips... ...wildy v056qkt3@ubvms.cc.buffalo.edu Wildy Haskell v056qkt3@ubvms.bitnet 276 W. Circular St. Ext. haskell@lictor.acsu.buffalo.edu Saratoga Springs, NY 12866 haskell@autarch.acsu.buffalo.edu Come Sail Away With Me... Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!sunybcs!acsu.buffalo.edu From: haskell@acsu.buffalo.edu (william w haskell) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: here we try again.. Message-ID: <21467@eerie.acsu.Buffalo.EDU> Date: 10 Apr 90 17:08:25 GMT Sender: nobody@acsu.Buffalo.EDU Organization: SUNY at Buffalo Lines: 63 From: haskell@acsu.buffalo.edu (william w haskell) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: once upon a dream... Expires: References: Sender: Followup-To: Distribution: world Organization: SUNY at Buffalo Keywords: The poet has been sitting pensively in his corner for some time now. At times almost seeming not to exist, for as we all know, that which is motionless for long enough becomes nearly invisible to all of those excpet the weary and the paranoid. He suddenly rises to his feet, and walks to the bar, where he lays a dollar on the bar. "I think I have had enough of the spirits Mike. Give me a Mountain Dew. I think I may have finally found myself somewhere. I am not really sure who I am yet, but that will come in time. "He steps forward to the chalkline, and opens his notebook while balancing the drink in his other hand. My hands have been barren as of late. Not much have I been able to write. It is at times like these that I am lost. Something that has happened recently has unburied the stone for which I have been searching. I know not what it may be, but somehting tells me that when I am meant to know, I will. "Last night I began to write again. I founf the well that is within me once again. I found all manners of things that Iknew not I posessed. Perhaps it is that some cared for me. Even those that I know not. I would wish to thank these people, but I am not sure what to thank them for yet, so I will wait. I wrote much last night, but I shall only burden you with one short verse this day... "...what is lost upon the soul find a kindred spirit and kindle the flame watch light rise from darkness verity from shame love from amber coals diamonds from dust Feel what grows inside of you love.... "To love then. I forgot for a long time that love exists always, and that we must begin by loving all, before we may love any." He drains his drink, and "fires" the glass into the hearth. ( Sorry, I couldn't resist. ) The poet walks back to his corner, but with more of a bounce in his step than any have seen in a time. there might even be the touch of a smile on his lips... ...wildy v056qkt3@ubvms.cc.buffalo.edu Wildy Haskell v056qkt3@ubvms.bitnet 276 W. Circular St. Ext. haskell@lictor.acsu.buffalo.edu Saratoga Springs, NY 12866 haskell@autarch.acsu.buffalo.edu Come Sail Away With Me... Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!sdd.hp.com!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!samsung!uunet!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!bat.cis.ohio-state.edu!kent_a_jenkins From: kent_a_jenkins@bat.cis.ohio-state.edu Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Hello, did any one hear me? Summary: Of course we did Message-ID: <79081@tut.cis.ohio-state.edu> Date: 10 Apr 90 17:24:04 GMT References: <11551@encore.Encore.COM> Sender: usenet_news@tut.cis.ohio-state.edu Reply-To: Thenomain Organization: Ohio State University Computer and Information Science Lines: 90 In article <11551@encore.Encore.COM> terryk@pinocchio (Terence Kelleher) writes: >A voice picks up from the padded bar stool where the woman in the >muted paisley sweater is sitting. > >"Am I missing some inside jokes or something? Other than a couple >generic hellos, no one seems to want to answer me. Have I turned >invisible? Or is there some requisite pain that one has to share to >be included? Maybe since I am not a college student (nor ever was >one) or going through a painful break up, there is no place for me >here? I feel I should apologize for being happy or not knowing one of >you on the outside. Is this true? Deal me in for one hand at poker >and I'll tell a story." "Of COURSE you were." Same kid, different clothes, comes waltzing back in the bar. Large black oxford shirt, bright blue tee underneith, tan shorts, and dirty white Nikes. His hair a little longer and a little wilder, looking like he managed to catch a tan in the few moments that he left the bar and returned. The fancy keyboard is gone, the backpack is still there, though. "Kidding, of course. God, I love summer vacation. Gives you plenty of time to think about things, or to unthink things." He blinks in amazement at the crowd. "What, the poker game's still going on? Deal me in." He places a Eurodollar on the bar. "Pepsi, please." >She takes her glass of whiskey and sits at the table, wedging herself >in the nearest opening in a table that seems too crowded to allow her >passage. She grips her whiskey in ever whitening knuckles. [There are a whole two people at the Story Poker game, right now.] >"I came from a large family and if you ask anyone who knew us it was >obvious that we had a multitude of problems. Alchoholism, Insanity, >You name it. I was one of the youngest in the family. Oddly enough I >wound up FAIRLY well adjusted, blocking out most of the ugliness. Of >course you wouldn't know this but with all the others screaming their >problems (and creating new ones) at the top of their lungs, no one >paid much attention to the quiet little girl in the corner untill the >beserker rages hit. To this day I have a problem with being ignored, >mostly I *HATE* it. Once I stood in a store at a make up counter and >waited for a clerk to wait on me. It took her fifteen minutes to see >me. (sip) I've grown accustomed and even accepted the fact that if >I'm not loud I'm not noticeable. Thenomain snickers. "You know, I've about the same idea. Granted we never had alchoholism in our family (my brother came awfully damned close, though) but I can relate with the insanity. "Sorry about 'ignoring' you. I was getting quite fed up, as it was, but the 'birds of a feather' syndrome always catches me when I least expect it." > But here at Callahan's I thought it >would be different. Do you realize how closed you sound to outsiders >looking in? I watched for a while before I spoke up and even then it >wasted the breath I used. I'm not flashily dressed, nor do I use >magics to stand out. I'm comfortable the way I am and if being >regular in here is unacceptable...... . . "Heh... you know..." Thenomain gets his thoughtful look again, mixed with a relaxed smile. "You know, there's a simple answer to all of this. Why people do seem so closed, why they dress up, or dress down, or flash, sparkle, mew, growl, bamf, or whatnot. But I'm not going to start psychoanalyzing people or events lest they jump all over me for it. "But you're right. It's a newsgroup with an appearently very specific purpose. "Actually, I don't like talking about my 'problems' at all. I like acting on them, doing something about them. And, if you don't mind, I'm going to." Standing up, Thenomain clears his throat and puts the backpack down. "People! A game of Story Poker is starting up here at Table 15b! If you wish to join, bring yourselves and your drink. No substitutions for yourselves or your drinks will be accepted! These are the ONLY prerequisites. The objective of this game is to... to... well, to play poker AND tell stories at the same time!" He sits back down at the table and nods to Hildy. "See, no magic, no flashy clothes." He smiles and waits for people to arive. >Terence Kelleher >Encore Computer Corporation >terryk@encore.com Encore... Encore... Say, you guys a subdivision of Maas-Neotek? :) Kent "Lance 'Thenomain' Peterson" Jenkins / I don't believe in aliases... -=- -- Thenomain -- Kent Jenkins -- "I'm a figment of my own -- -- jenkins@osu-20.ircc.ohio-state.edu -- imagination, thank you." -Kaj -- -- kent-j@cis.ohio-state.edu -- Brainwave Turbulance, Inc. -- -- It's our lives, the U.S. Constitution! (Void where prohibited by Law) -- Path: mit-eddie!mit-amt!snorkelwacker!apple!usc!samsung!uunet!shelby!csli!wilson From: wilson@csli.Stanford.EDU (Nathan Wilson) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: A toast to a man with a heart Message-ID: <13036@csli.Stanford.EDU> Date: 10 Apr 90 18:32:14 GMT Sender: wilson@csli.Stanford.EDU (Nathan Wilson) Organization: Center for the Study of Language and Information, Stanford U. Lines: 30 I walk in around 8, carrying a basket filled with recently collected black chantrelles, and blewits. I give them to Mike. He replies casually, "I should be able to find mushroom for these in my larder! Where do you find all these?" "That I chantrelle!" I reply grinning. Most of the rest of the room looks plainly baffled at my odd offering black and purple fungi. Mike gives me my usual glass of hot apple cider. Mind you I'm in no way averse to alcohol, it's just that after tramping around in the wet woods all day, I need something that will actually warm the body as well as the soul. I take a seat by myself neither within the warmth of the fire (a little too crowded) nor in the protection of a corner (I have to work to be careful or distrustful). I've resolved to give a toast tonight. After finishing my drink, I walk a little reluctantly up to the chalkline. Several people are looking at me with curiosity. The more observant ones have seen me in here pretty regularly watching and listening. Several of the other regulars react as they would to a newcomer. "To Nick Chopper! In Oz he taught me the joy of reading! In LRY he was a caring advisor! In Sacramento he introduced me to Spider's Callahan's, and here he has given me my voice! Thank you for all the magic!" <> Nathan, the distant wonderer. Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!yale!cs.utexas.edu!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!ucbvax!fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM!jane From: jane@fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM (Jane Beckman x4030) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: We really DO notice Message-ID: <9004101153.AA04388@fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM> Date: 10 Apr 90 18:53:12 GMT Sender: daemon@ucbvax.BERKELEY.EDU Lines: 66 Jilara listens to Hildy's lament. >"Am I missing some inside jokes or something? Other than a couple >generic hellos, no one seems to want to answer me. Have I turned >invisible? Or is there some requisite pain that one has to share to >be included? Maybe since I am not a college student (nor ever was >one) or going through a painful break up, there is no place for me >here? I feel I should apologize for being happy or not knowing one of >you on the outside. Is this true? Deal me in for one hand at poker >and I'll tell a story." People here tend to get a little wrapped up. A few of the original group, I fear, have left because they felt---uh, I guess "outside" is the description, being members (like myself) of what I call the "Old Fogies" club. There really are quite a few of us who are not college students lamenting that they are 20 years old and haven't met their soulmate yet. >"I came from a large family and if you ask anyone who knew us it was >obvious that we had a multitude of problems. Alchoholism, Insanity, >You name it. I was one of the youngest in the family. Oddly enough I >wound up FAIRLY well adjusted, blocking out most of the ugliness. Maybe you were lucky in that at least people KNEW your family had problems. We were a model family to outsiders, but with insanity, substance abuse, and my father constantly trying to sexually abuse me. I KNEW no one would believe me if I let any of this out, so I was the one left to make sense out of the total chaos. But yes, I know the validity of hiding out. You ought to see my "Jane" side... Fortunately, she's not around as much as she used to be. >I've grown accustomed and even accepted the fact that if >I'm not loud I'm not noticeable. There is a compromise, but it takes work, lots of work. This is from the woman who throws her checkbook across the bank. As Alaric once put it to me, "I'm a REFORMED berserker." >I watched for a while before I spoke up and even then it >wasted the breath I used. In the virtual media, though, if you don't do something that sets you off from the crowd, you tend to just turn into an annoymous bundle of words. (This is especially noticable in groups where everyone sounds the same, like over in alt.religion.flamefest---uh, I mean alt.atheism :-) ) >I'm not flashily dressed, nor do I use >magics to stand out. Ah, but have you tried a noticable .sig file? Be glad you don't have my problem: I seem to have the alt.callahans net.crisisline going constantly in my e-mail. I knew this was a dangerous job when I took it... I guess I just seem sympathetic. But it's nasty when you've got a suicidal person off somewhere on the net, and no way of finding out what's going on except e-mail... Sigh. Anyway, greetings and I hope you stay with us. --- ---Jilara the Exile (I hope.) "If I'm not home accepting what I cannot change, I'm out changing what I can't accept." ---Ashleigh Brilliant alternate mail path: jane%fsdcupt.csd@urbana.mcd.mot.com My email went to Urbana, but all I got was this stupid router! Path: mit-eddie!bu.edu!lll-winken!uunet!samsung!brutus.cs.uiuc.edu!psuvax1!xavier!news From: nap92@campus.swarthmore.edu Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Nao looks up briefly.... Message-ID: <4AGHA94@xavier.swarthmore.edu> Date: 6 Apr 90 22:43:31 GMT Sender: news@xavier.swarthmore.edu (USENET News System) Organization: Swarthmore College Lines: 35 "Now where did I leave myself? Wups! I'm still standing on the chalk line. Didn't mean to do that...." She turns around, startled by Nick Chopper, who threw a glass immediately after she did, then smiles. "Thanks for joining in. Here, have yet another fuzzy to add to your collection." She grins and looks over at Lu...er...Ender. "Nag, nag. Yeah, I'll get it done sometime.....Hm, I think you guys are right about how serious this place has gotten. Not that I mind.....I think it's a good place for talking. Weird, I seem to be going through ups and downs. Oh, well, can't hurt. Hm, lessee. There was something I was planning to do with this fuzzy....Oh, yes." And she walks over to Wildy. "I can't claim to understand what you're feeling. But I can understand a request for a warm fuzzy. Here." And she hands him a yellow fuzzy. "Yellow? That's a change. They've been blue up till now. There's no accounting." "Hm. I'm too blue. I think this mood calls for something else." She walks over to the door, and opens it onto a closet. She looks back, embarrassed by the mess, and shuts the door behind her. When she emerges, she wears a bright green skirt, and a black jacket. The jacket may be black, but it's trimmed with silver buttons, and the sleeves are slashed from shoulder to wrist, revealing the puffy white sleeves of the shirt underneath. She's wearing soft black dancing shoes. "Much better. Anyone for fugal fergus?" -Nao p.s. Blasny, blasny means "Ain't this nice?" / v \ | Nao Parkhurst | | | nap92@campus.swarthmore.edu | "Blasny, blasny." | | nap92@swarthmr.bitnet | -"The Foreigner" | \ ^ /