"OOB" Crow Style
Man walks into a bar. Coffeebar. Saunters up to the counter and, looking over the menu, is shocked to find it's written in computer-ese-shortie-abbreviatted-dot.com-chatroom-lingo-lol-roflmao-WTF-^5:)-:0)????
Confused as hell, he orders a cup and sits down.
Tall, leggy Blonde sitting adjacent smiles a friendly grin. He begins to warm, feeling at home, thinks hey,this is a lot like my chair
Tall, leggy Blonde sitting adjacent smiles a friendly grin. He begins to warm, feeling at home, thinks hey,this is a lot like my chair
AT HOME !
His mind asks his body," where am I ? " Nervous now, tapping on the table like a jittery drummer he overhears a few conversations and thinks, mmm, is this eavesdropping ? not if I join in...so he adds a few tentative , shy words. Laughter, non sequitors and bits of paper with messages written on them begin to blow around the room in a whirl. He reads a few and scribles a hasty reply.
As if by subconscious or subcutaneous magic, a fellow across the room begins tapping something back...it's indecipherable.. Japanese ?, no wait, it's hepanese, hey I speak that he thinks , and begins to piece together a messsage , and a reply. They communicate like two prisoners tapping on pipes. Bits of illogical jitter jabber jib jab their way through the ether, circumnavigating the planet in nano seconds. Windows open, new vistas emerge and shatter the dusk. Connectivity problems prove a temporary frustration. He leaves/joins/releaves/rejoins in a mad dash of electrons, a swirling rush. Hours pass in a flash. Exhausted, he merrily types "goodnighters :0) :love:love:love: " , and hastily logs off. Hates a long goodbye, he thinks to himself.
As he crosses the cafe he wonders,
" what's the name of this place?
His mind asks his body," where am I ? " Nervous now, tapping on the table like a jittery drummer he overhears a few conversations and thinks, mmm, is this eavesdropping ? not if I join in...so he adds a few tentative , shy words. Laughter, non sequitors and bits of paper with messages written on them begin to blow around the room in a whirl. He reads a few and scribles a hasty reply.
As if by subconscious or subcutaneous magic, a fellow across the room begins tapping something back...it's indecipherable.. Japanese ?, no wait, it's hepanese, hey I speak that he thinks , and begins to piece together a messsage , and a reply. They communicate like two prisoners tapping on pipes. Bits of illogical jitter jabber jib jab their way through the ether, circumnavigating the planet in nano seconds. Windows open, new vistas emerge and shatter the dusk. Connectivity problems prove a temporary frustration. He leaves/joins/releaves/rejoins in a mad dash of electrons, a swirling rush. Hours pass in a flash. Exhausted, he merrily types "goodnighters :0) :love:love:love: " , and hastily logs off. Hates a long goodbye, he thinks to himself.
As he crosses the cafe he wonders,
" what's the name of this place?
I'll be sure to return...? "
Seeing a sign above the door, he reads,
Seeing a sign above the door, he reads,
in puzzlement
" OOB COMEDY ROOM "
" OOB COMEDY ROOM "
Crow
