January 18, 2004

• Alas, no camera. Which means no incriminating evidence. < cartman > GODDAMMIT! < /cartman > They really are that drunk.
• Heh. Space Kitty weighing in here. So there's this thing. I'm at Kimberly & Jim_T's house, preparing to crash for the night. It's only 10 pm, but we've decided it's 3 AM because we're far too drunk for it to be this early. So I'm changing my clothes, and I said, "I hope you don't mind, but I'm flashing the Space Kitty bits" because, wtf, they've seen them before (shut up) and now we've decided, as an added bonus, they're CHICKEN FLAVORED space kitty bits. Insert your own joke here. And also? COCK-PUNCH!
• And also, this is on THREE drinks, not 331. Be afraid. Be very, very, very afraid.
• oh yeah, how can i forget, COCK PUNCH!!!
• Even more offensive: POCK CUNCH I'll leave the combined definition of the two to you.
• Wusses!
• I'm glad you had fun : )
• Me too. I hope we get to see some photos on MeFi. And I want to hear more, maybe when you don't have to type so carefully ;)
• Thanks for keeping them alive, Jim.
• This deconstructing the self thing can be fun /dropped
• Anybody spew?
• Wendell here, thanking the MonkeyFilter contingent for attending, for not complaining too loudly when the 'swag bags' did not contain ponies (although somebody on your side of the table left your swag bag behind, harumph), and for making my first "social gathering" in several years not to include a licensed psychiatric specialist very fun and very normal. My only regret is forgetting just how powerfully so-called 'social lubricants' tend to suppress my personality (I once had a group comedy writing gig where I was the only person who wrote funny un-stoned). Even a single beer nursed over 2+ hours slowed me down enough that: (1) I never completed my attendance list and seating chart of the gathering. (2) I never finished my "writing about the sex life of Schopenhauer" anecdote. (3) When the topic turned to the controversial social skill known as "gaydar", I forgot to mention that Robin Williams once mistook me for a gay tennis player. (4) In a NON-Boyzone environment where the lovely, intelligent and unattached women clearly outnumbered the available non-gay males, I completely forgot to flirt. Let me start to make up for that by writing: "chicken flavored space kitty bits?" Would that be Original Recipe or Cajun Spiced? BTW, thanks to bedhead, who had suggested the comfortable, centrally-located and really-hard-to-find location, and lived within walking distance of it, so we did get ONE group picture from her camera (Kimberly and jim_t missed it completely, but weren't you in the picture, Space Kitty? Or were you NOT sitting directly to my right? One stupid beer, he mumbled...)
• BTW, there were no spews, and all cock punches were verbal, not physical. And jim_t has made it impossible for me to watch the football playoffs today without getting a really ugly mental picture.
• Would it help if I mentioned that I'm drunk too? Well done people on proficiently lubricating that meta/monkey chasm! If anybody ever needs somebody to initiate a London Me/Mo/Fi/Fum shenanigans, I'd be willing. Or drunk. Drunk or willing; perhaps some combination of the two. Not that I think there's many of us over here. But... ummm... something. Uhh... MonkeyFilter: a NON-Boyzone environment Instead, I've been listening to the Pet Shop Boys all evening ...need more cock-punch... Wendell, tell us the "writing about the sex life of Schopenhauer" anecdote. please pretty please
• Sit down and get comfortable: it's a long story. Back in the '80s, my pursuit of a professional writing career included checking the Los Angeles Times classified ads under "W". There I discovered an ad from "The People's Almanac" (the series of pop reference books edited by Irving Wallace and his family) soliciting ideas for "The Book of Lists". I ended up getting paid for two lists (one of "crown princes" and the other of "musicians famous for something else") that never got published, and was definately on their "B" list of contributors when they sent me a letter asking if I'd be interested in writing for a new project of theirs: "The People's Almanac Presents the Intimate Sex Lives of Famous People". The "Famous People" of the title were all deceased (avoiding various legal issues), and most were historically so. My first assignment was the pessimist philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer, and the editors provided me with research material - two biographies, 75 to 100 years old. Being written long before anyone thought of publishing "Intimate Sex Lives" books, both volumes required a lot of 'reading between the lines' to extract much of a sexual biography. And a couple weeks after I sent in my thousand words, I got back a tactfully worded request to rewrite it, in which the Assistant Editor (no relative of Irving Wallace) pointed out that I had failed to note that Schopenhauer had died of complications from syphillis. Obviously, I hadn't read nearly enough between the lines. I felt like I had just flunked History, Philosophy and Sex Education on the same day. And flashboy, the only time I ever crossed the Atlantic was a trip to London twenty-odd years ago as part of a radio station promotion (an anecdote I'll gladly tell at your London MeetUp if you'll pay the airfare to have me as a "special guest").
• Thanks to jim_t for keeping us alive - best damn designated driver you ever saw. Thanks also to wendell for hosting the affair, as it were - a magnificent time was had by all. No spewage, thank heavens, but I am very much looking forward to seeing the picture bedhead took. *waits* (wendell, that was me directly to your right; Cajun spiced Space Kitty bits, if you please) And flashboy? Make that two special guest airfares to London. ::hopes::
• Flashboy, my advice is to pony up. Space Kitty is a total babe. (You'll need to follow this thread.) Oh, and Wendell might throw in a few stories about famous syphilitics while you're there.
• WOO-HOO! thanks, Wolof!
• were bodily fluids exchanged? and if so, were they citrus-tasty? thanks for the in-depth low-down!
• photo here!
• Memo to self: 1) Stop posting when drunk. 2) Close bank account, make computer block access to airline ticket booking pages, flush mobile phone down toilet, lock self in room with no phoneline, hide. Do not buy transatlantic passage for shady characters you've just met on the internet. 3) Wave shyly at Space Kitty. 4) Stop posting when drunk. 5) See 4. 6) Lie down until room stops spinning. gaaaahhhhh my head hurts On preview: SideDish... dude...
• Oh, and excellent Schopenhauer/sex anecdote, wendell. One of the best I've ever heard.
• One of the benefits of being a middle aged dude living on the fringes of Los Angeles for most of my life is lots of good anecdotes. From the origins of "Wendell" (not my real name) and getting bullied in junior high by the son of a TV legend, to the Robin Williams incident above and other 'brushes with celebrity' (Casey Kasem once yelled at me on a live PBS auction). I have not lived a very full life, but I got enough anecdotes for several MeetUps (if I remember not to drink).
• were bodily fluids exchanged? and if so, were they citrus-tasty? thanks for the in-depth low-down! So to speak!
• I'm really beginning to distrust my memories of the MeetUp, considering I was sitting next to Space Kitty. I always hate it when I have more fun than I can remember.
• And citrus-tasty chicken-flavored Space Kitty bits? Explains the strange dream I had about El Pollo Loco...
• If I'd been sitting next to Space Kitty, I'd remember every detail. *winks at Space Kitty*
• Before this falls off the front page, let me say that I'm going to keep the 'Meat-Up' site functional for organizing future gatherings, the next of which may come as soon as late Feb./early March for the benefit of (1) everyone who said "sorry I missed it" (2) all the attendees who said "let's do it again" (3) Wendell, who has no life. Tentative title for the next event: "MFLA - It Stands for Whatever You Want It To"
• *waves shyly at languagehat* Hee. Wink, wink - nudge, nudge. Say no more!
• Yo, Wendell .. I hear you have a chance of scoring with a monkey .. details??
• In case you're wondering about my perverse rendering of ellipsis, it's because I wanted to keep it symmetrical, but I didn't want to use three question marks. (Yeah, a likely story.)
• ::sigh:: Why do I have to explain all my jokes? from the comments following Matt Haughey's "Under the Iron" interview: Are there any plans to open up MeFi once more? Gyan
• quonsar does not have fooning privileges Another illusion shattered. You cwuel beast.
• I give quonsar fooning priveleges on MoFi. I love it when he foons.
• Wendell, as the first MoFi fooner, you can foon too. Not that you need my permission.
• I swoon when quonsar foons. Especially by the light of the moon.
• My social life is shit. Any Florida monkeys? Gulf of Mexico? Out around the Keys?
• a crank foon call? /crickets
• Looney Foons. It's one of my favorite nonsense words, and I believe it was first popularized by Gary Owens' radio show (which I once wrote for, he name-dropped), although most gibberish aficionados know 'Garish' for his prodigious use of "Nerny" and "Fnork". And remember, tofu-boy, I'm available for guest appearances at any meetup anywhere (if you'll provide me free transportation). And a Florida Keys Meet would be a much more appropriate venue for that shirt I wore in L.A.
• Ah, most definitely good times...and not just for "And remember, tofu-boy..."