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Two years and rolling!
Thank you from all your faithful Minions!
Miss a Photo or Slideshow or Comment Thread? Party Recap Below:
- Archives
- Links To Personal Tributes From The Minions To EE
- Photos
- Final Poll
- Slideshows
Blog Archive
Congratulations EE - Messages From Your Minions
Portrait by Antony B
EE Partying Down With Minionites Chris And Robin
Picture by paparazzo Antony B
EE has to repopulate the earth 'single-handedly.' No humans are left. Which does he choose?
140 comments:
Wahey!
ROBIN!
I got really confused. Can you clean up the story thread please? I was sure I was here!
I thought everyone was reposting their story bits to the bar thread - which I did think was a bit of a chaotic thing to do, but why not!
All the last posts I put in that thread were supposed to be here *grumble*
This is, I know, not helping my attempts to gain a reputation of sobriety.
Hey sweetie- I don't know what happened - but the story line is still intact. I checked on it. It never left, I don't think!
You Europeans are such troopers - it's getting late there, isn't it?
Who knows what happened on my blog view, but it's back now. *eye roll*
Hey phoenix - for the evening festivities - did you see that email I sent ya, with the pic?
10.45.
I'll hang on as long as I can — but you know how the urge to flap away and feed is...
That 5 hour time diff is killer, WO. That's 11 off of Hawaii and what, another four for NZ and Aussie land?
I'll have to head out of here for the night soon, too. I get off of work shortly and have the homeward commute to accomplish.
Ha!
Well, my husband just walked in the door - soooo - I'd better actually visit with him, or he's gonna be mad. He looked at me just now and said something along the lines of - "well, Rob, how's your day been with that editor guy and your buddies?"
So - back later.
Poor Fernando wasn't supposed to be in that kinky mess. If I end up with some sort of karmic anti-drink, I'm blaming you lot.
Well, Robin, whatever you do, don't tell him the truth.
Time to lasso the lurkers with promise of a game of I-Spy.
No, wait a minute, that doesn't work in cyberspace, does it?
SYLVIA - are you between rooms again like some kind of benevolent acrobat?
Depends, WO. What are we spying?
WW - what about cerebellar dysfunction manifested in keyboard twitch?
It's either that or we talk Kandinsky.
SYLVIA - are you between rooms again like some kind of benevolent acrobat?
As a teenager, I told my friends I could do the splits and rather abruptly tried to prove it, with rather painful results.
I feel the same now.
During a pan-pubescent mixed high school gym class, I bust open a pair of nylon shorts leaping over a 'horse.'
That was Zero Fun.
I took a half hour break to shove dinner in the oven. It will be cooked in about an hour.
I was climbing in the back of a semi-truck trailer during mid-winter. My long johns caught the fabric of my pants and ripped the crotch out from on knee all the way up and partly down the other leg. Nothing showed. Still embarrassing.
Dave - is this a 'splits' story or are you just touching base?
Oh goody, is everyone so drunk they are telling most embarrassing stories now? This is when being sober comes in handy...no one else will remember telling them, and then I can bring them up to haunt you later. Please, go ahead.
It's midnight here (in Spain) and I need to get some sleep.
But I don't have a book :( I just finished A Thousand Splendid Suns and I haven't picked up anything else yet.
So tonight, what should I read?
The stars, Sylvia. Always the best stories.
Either that or play Await The Gecko.
Touching base.
K - I can't write when I'm drunk. My Teen Love Poem Anthology is testament to this brute fact.
K - I can't write when I'm drunk. My Teen Love Poem Anthology is testament to this brute fact.
Read Why You Don't Get Published.
Dinner sounds good. I'm adopting the rare strategy of spooning occasional gloopy lumps of takeaway between posts.
It's bad and it's junky and I'll make up for it by rustling up something napkin-friendly at the weekend.
A teen love poem anthology sounds like a compilation of most embarrassing moments in an easy to access form.
WOW! I think we should call for all of us who have poetry left from our brutal teen years to post it.
I hope the owners of this bar don't mind a little "pre-drinking" on the part of we thriftier customers?
*tipples from the inner pocket of my jacket*
Everyone raise your mickey! Salut, EE!
EE, I have to ask: Would I get preferential treatment if I queried you with a SWAK rather than an SASE?
Even the terribly terribly romantic stuff you were convinced was in French?
I actually got so drunk once I wrote out two love poems on the same piece of paper without realising it.
Still have it. Looks like a still from a 3D film I don't ever want to watch again.
kiersten, I think you have an idea. Combine it with doggerel (pjd, you are on call to help us shape them up) would probably suit.
Dinner? Midnight? I just picked up lunch.
I remember writing exactly one poem at around age 14 for a girl. Cleverly, I never showed it to her. The only line I remember is "Her existence pervades my being."
I'm going to query a poetry collection with that as the sample.
jjdebenedictis, I've only just found out who you are.
Party gossip, it's lethal.
I'm sure it's awesome.
From my first breakup:
I just found a picture
of my old boyfriend.
I looked at it for a minute,
remembering.
Then I wrapped my
gum
in it, and threw it
away.
Ah, sweet catharsis.
I really liked random line breaks.
Read "Why You Don't Get Published"
I have it memorised, obviously!
Brilliant, kiersten. I'll take 2 more of those, please.
I can just hear embarrassing teen love poems - -
From him:
When I reached out to touch your soul, I grabbed your boobs instead.
Soft pillows of heaven. Pale mounds of mother love.
From her:
I love the pinch of your stubble and the firmness of your chest.
Darling, now if only that would stay hard for more than thirty seconds.
You'd be the best.
(no, I don't translate Vogon)
Kiersten, that is a million times better than my teen poetry. It's touching. Mine was drama-ridden. And I wrote reams of it.
Oh man, I've got the whole book right here. Even the notebook is embarrassing--sparkly holographic with Tinkerbell. Wow.
Okay, here's a line I actually still like:
How lonely the insomniac!
People everywhere
but
no one to talk to.
I also once wrote a brilliant lyric to a song that heralded my future as a mediocre copy editor:
"How can you be hurt by someone when they didn't hurt you?
The separation between active and passive is so complete and true."
Oh, I'm leaving out the worst ones. Most of them were written about my gay, pathological liar boyfriend from senior year.
DAve, just how many of us do you think got that Vogon line, anyhow?
I wrote teen poetry about Atlantis and lost mystical civilizations. No wonder I ended up a pagan fantasy writer.
I'd pay to hear that song.
LOL Paca! I think there's a market for odd lyrics like that. But then, two of my favorite bands are They Might Be Giants and the B52s.
Like the insomniac line.
How lonely the insomniac!
People everywhere
but
no one to talk to.
that IS nice :)
A friend of mine in college, told me that he once refuse to date a girl who owned her own car because it had vinyl seats. He told her he was worried about sweaty pimples on his butt.
That went over like dog poo in a burning bag
Saunters in and parks on the nearest barstool. "I'd like a margarita, please. No, the big one. Just mix a vat and hand me some straws."
Cheers, EE.
Alright, in theory I'm going to go do some work now. That's the penalty of it being 12:30 in the middle of the day.
In practice, see everyone in about 5, 10 tops.
It's 22 minutes past minute. The port bottle is looking decidely peaky.
I went to our big filing cabinet to search for the poetry that I know is still there, filed, because ... what? One day someone might ask for it.
And that day has finally arrived.
I flip through Sylvia - personal trying to work out where I would have put it. Keepsakes? print-outs including the occasional poetry ... but none of them my own.
Loveletters is interesting, in fact I think I'll go through that file again when no one is home, but not tonight.
Misc? Who puts a misc folder under Personal? Apparently I do, and there, I find my poetry.
Post! Post! Post!
Middle of the day?
Bliss.
I'm knocking on midnight, which means I either have to go to bed or disprove Kiersten's insomnia insight.
It's a grizzler.
WO - you know it's no contest.
That was written during the days of instant-messaging, but pre-blogs. See what EE does for us? You never have to be lonely again!
How lonely the insomniac!
People everywhere
but
no one to talk to.
That sounds like the car insurance commercial with that snobby interviewer.
I have to head out, drive home. See you all tomorrow. Sorry to have missed the further adventures of EE in the story, but I've added enough, I'm sure.
LOL
I tried. I started to type out a poem. Then I choked.
Then I started again. Then I saw someone (an ex, no doubt) had scribbled on "difficult 'it'"
Then I deleted it all.
I'll post it anon. I'm not putting my name to it!
He would be perfect for that line! I'll give Allstate a call.
But what would the insurance be for?
Also, I thought Robin and EE just engaged in playful banter (no, that is not a double entendre) but I've noticed that whenever she leaves, he disappears, too...
I'd love to agree with you, but in order to ramain awake any longer I may have to supend myself by my eyelids from meathooks in the ceiling.
Actually, if I ever get to travel back in time I may use that line as the first line in a born-again teen love poem.
Oh great, after I bore my teenage soul to you? I'm disappointed, Sylvia.
Okay, been lurking but I gotta sign off for a while. Gotta eat and get some writing done. I'll pop in later—on something like round 8, I'm sure.
Again, Happy Anniversary, EE.
Wait a minute, I left first.
Oh my gosh, I just remembered a poem about bra shopping I wrote in college. If I find it, I'll post it on my blog. Please, please let it not be lost...
It's 20 minutes to JEOPARDY time.
Sure you did, EE. Sure you did.
How can I care
when the pain still goes on
I can't stop the numbness,
rewrite the song.
How can I try
when the road never ends.
Time fades away
but the scar never mends
Don't ask me to fight
when the dead still can talk;
in daylight they whisper
in the darkness they mock.
Don't ask me to change
what do I change for
Inside me is turmoil
but out there it is war.
I'd like to point out it's that single raised eyebrow that made me do it.
That sounds like it's about bra shopping too.
The single raised eyebrow is one of my greatest skills.
Found the bra poem. Anyone interested?
And Sylia, that's actually quite good. The rhyming is really clever. I was too lazy to rhyme in high school.
My onions turned out crispy. Dinner will taste smoky.
LOL bra shopping was probably the impetus. Dark, horrible process.
I'd love to go bra shopping.
I guess it's like boxer short shopping minus the boxers and the shorts plus the cups and the straps.
Bought knickers for a friend once and even in my insomniac moments am never tempted to revisit the shop assistant's cackles.
We NEED the bra poem.
Rhyming isn't difficult - I was too lazy to infuse my poetry with thought ;)
Bra shopping is a horrible, horrible experience, second only to swimsuit shopping.
Should I post it here or on my EE tribute page?
Could you speak English?
Gorilla costume shopping is equally irksome - especially if you're still wearing your old one.
I'm not sure who the English comment was directed to...
Women should go to professional who sell bras and get fitted properly. Thankfully, men don't need professional jock strap fitters
Hopefully one of the weredingoes — they have poetic souls, too.
Both :)
OMG - worst swimsuit shopping experience ever, I sliced my thumb open on a nail driven into the wall of a dressing room.
Now I am FREAKING out trying so hard to keep any blood from touching the bathing suits because I know what everyone will think and ohmygod that's not it but damn my thumb hurts and it's so unfair that I have to run out of here like a shoplifter because they have a nail in the wall.
Here it is, my masterpiece.
"B" Proud
by Kiersten
The other day I went to find
a simple bra--the white kind
to wear beneath a special dress
but soon my plans were all a mess
store after store, rack after rack,
was purple! blue! magenta! black!
After strenuous searching I then found
my size was not the ideal round
Gel packs! Push ups! Support by air!
This mentality is quite unfair.
Our nation, proud as she can be,
assumes I want to wear a "D."
I'm sorry world, I just don't want
that area to show and flaunt
Just once I'd like to go and find
a bra that fits my state of mind.
Having your inside leg measured is no fun. I nearly had someone's eye out with the whiplash from a cremasteric reflex.
It was directed at the one that mentioned cackles.
Women should go to professional who sell bras and get fitted properly. Thankfully, men don't need professional jock strap fitters
Professional bra fittings aside, when you're a G-34 bra shopping is always a horror show.
-kis
I love it! Even though it rhymes.
a veritable sonnet!
A Milton!
A Cummings
the second coming of Auden
Okay, I think I've caught up: MAD Magazine, something about caterpillars, and Whirlochre. The great thing about Whirlochre's comments is you don't need any context. In fact, it's probably better without. Ex:
It's like a dozen schizoid ventriloquists conversing in sign language in the dark.
I have no idea what he was referring to, but I can't stop laughing.
Ah, yes, I believe that is British being spoken. Very different from English.
Kirsten - the problem is the male equivalent sounds quite appealing to them.
Can I use your nail/bra experience in my novel? It has a swimsuit shopping scene.
Are cackles like "tankles"?
It's 11.52ish.
I'm running on frazzle.
That nail/swimmingsuit story is awesome. Terrible, but awesome.
Blogless - the description still applies.
How was dinner, Dave?
(why do I sound like a computer?)
Don't be a sissy, whirlochre--it's not even midnight.
LOL and NO re: all questions to do with swimsuits and thumbs.
My nephew's wife has a GG bust.
Babies love to lay on her like a shelf.
Oh gosh. It's like that moment in Back To The Future when Biff calls Marty a coward.
OK THEN!
I will stay up till midnight!
Having your inside leg measured is no fun. I nearly had someone's eye out with the whiplash from a cremasteric reflex.
Do you have pictures?
Congrats on two years, EE! I finally got to my break at work and am reading my way through the comments. Robin and Phoenix sure know how to throw a party!
lurker jill
My nephew's wife has a GG bust.
Babies love to lay on her like a shelf.
It was babies did this to me. Horrible little trolls.
WO's midnight is in 4 minutes - we need to be really exciting, quickly!
Dinner was a little burnt. The lid was glass and the burner red. Ooops! I was too hungry not to eat it anyway.
If I had known bars were this entertaining, I would have gone to one years ago.
Babies also gave me 97 linear feet of stretchmarks, but I don't show those to just anyone...
OK- I'm back and I'm drinking wine.
Prepare for blatant honesty, laced with occasional schmaltz.
what's happening?
At least you still have the 34 going for you, Kirsten.
KS — no, but I now walk with a limp and fall over when trying to flee unfurling tape measures.
Do any of you know about MILF Island?
WO- what can I do to make you happy?
We've been posting bad poetry and talking about bras. Any contributions?
Hey! Robin's here and she's probably semi-wazzed!
Hey Jill!!!
glad you de-lurked, honey.
Babies also gave me 97 linear feet of stretchmarks, but I don't show those to just anyone...
THANK GOD!
Yes WO- I've had one big gulping glass to catch me up with you guys-
Let's compare bra sizes. 38 C.
Wish I was semi-whazzed...
Babies also gave me 97 linear feet of stretchmarks, but I don't show those to just anyone...
THANK GOD!
Robin — your mere existence in a mutual time-space continuum is suffient...
However, Kiersten did mention bras and poetry...
Popping in for a few minutes is confusing. I'll be back around 10:49ish.
Gee, E, I didn't realize you were so...well endowed.
You wear it well, at least, EE.
...in the chestal region, that is.
I gotta go for an hour I'm scheduled back at 8. Bye.
You missed the poem already. Scroll back or go to my blog.
He's just trying to disprove the Robin theory. Bye, EE.
I'm back, having lost my connection and now everything has slowed to a trickle.
One last Fun Test...
Apparently you've killed blogger and I didn't even get to party yet.
Last call for Round 4. Continue on to the 5th Round, please.
Yay, and we're back. I've been trying to grump for half an hour. Where are you all?
test
Blast. Round 5 here I come.
We're just too much for Blogger!!
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