Help! I'm being held prisoner in a small shoebox. It's the one on the corner of Infinity and Forever (next to where the old phone booth was before it was removed and replaced by a small mound of virtual turds, just before the big wind storm we had about two or three years ago, if memory serves). Anyway, I'd appreciate some help, if you've got the time, or at least maybe you could drop off some reading material? (Print only please — the battery for my Kindrel went dead some time back, so I can read only print-on-paper, and by match-light too, at night anyways, so if you have extra matches, hey, drop them off too.) Thank you very much and have a great day/morning/afternoon/evening/night/life.
Howdy, Podna — my name is Glib Gibberish and I don't know either, thank you very kindly for asking.
Whatever happens, follow the monkey. You'll never go wrong for very long.
When I was free to roam, and did roam, which I did from time to time, I once or twice had breakfast at the NonBinary Cafe. Most places like this, you either avoid, or eat at and die young, but at the NBC it was different. Exactly how different I never quite learned, since I did not fill out an application, let alone go through the initiation process. You had to achieve the status of Adept, Level 16.5(c) before you could even have syrup to put on your pancakes, and it seemed like a lot of bother just to get my lips sticky, so I didn't follow through on that. Anyway, I'm not really into the binary/non-binary stuff. I personally lean more toward the non-decimal, myself. (Gives me more options to avoid, more degrees of refusal. Like that, and so on. No tattoos either, so I guess I'm really pretty normal for my kind, especially if you ignore the frequent homicidal outbursts.)
I noticed that my old high school English teacher, Hormonia Honkweezl, got married to a 2x4 (fir, SD, grade 2-and-better) at the age of 86. And then she died, which was the part that amused me the most. Not to say that I wasn't expecting this because she just was not the sort who was up to handling a 2x6 (of any grade, or plywood even), although I did have 10¢ bet that she would die a spinster, even if one full of splinters. My loss I suppose. At least she's finally where she belongs.
As soon as they take the clamps off my nipples, I'm free to go, I guess. Kind of quiet out there. Not sure if anyone is even around any more. It would all be different if someone had popped the lid off this shoebox I'm in, or even had lifted one corner a bit, but I can't see a thing out there, at all. So maybe it's only a matter of waiting a little longer. Patience is a virtue, right? Hello? Bob, you still out there?
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Me? Now thinking that monkeys are not at all funny. Especially the one that's been following me lately.
