or; I didn’t know you could be banninated for possession of HSP! :eek:
It’s bad enough I have dreams about this message board occasionally when I’m feeling perfectly healthy. Today, I have a yucky, snot-infested, pudding-headed, everything-that-touches-me-feels-abrasive and all-nourishment-I-put-in-my-mouth-is-violently-ejected flu.
I made the mistake of posting here and then immediately laying down for a nap. Usually, I read a book for a bit to try and get sleepy, or watch a little light television, and drift off with a somewhat blank slate. Not this time.
In my fevered mind, I conjured up a world where people walked around with little nametags - the living, breathing SDMB. The setting was my old hometown, which is quite handy, since it’s only one street. It always seems to be twilight here, in my dream.
So, I’m strolling casually down the street, feeling content, but scanning my surroundings for something that looks interesting. There’s a fist fight going on across the street; Pit fight. I drift on by, almost floating.
I see other “posters”, some very friendly; I must be getting close to MPSIMS. Someone waves hello to me, I wave hello back. My mind believes this is Anaamika. Hello,** Anaamika**. Someone sees me from across the street, from another forum. They wave madly and come dashing over to me, shake my hand, and smiling wildly, they say, “Hey, it’s Anastasaeon! Penis ensues!” I smile and nod in my infinite patience and wisdom. Like… like Spock*. Yes. Like Spock. And I continue floating down the street.
Suddenly, up the street, on the edge of town, approaching very slowly from the general vicinity of ATMB, is a white laundry basket. I see a little head peeking over the brim, with eyes looking nervous. He’s covered in towels, so we can’t see him very well. The basket is moving along the street like a car, only with no wheels. I approach a group of friendly-looking posters, and join n the conversation, which is focused on this slow-moving, nervous-looking laundry basket that just cruised in.
“Looks like someone new,” someone says.
“Hey! Welcome to the boards!”
“Hey, you! New guy! Do you have a name?”
The eyes shift quickly, and he disappears into his laundry basket, rummaging under the towels. He peeks back out again, and long thin fingers affix a wrinkled bit of white paper to the front of the basket. It reads: Bearbear6537**. The group I’m standing with cheers.
“He has a name!”
“Welcome, Bearbear6537, welcome!”
The eyes in the laundry basket crinkle into a smile, and he cruises slowly by. My group watches him. Suddenly, he stops in front of a bunch of people who look as though they are engaged in intelligent debate. Suddenly, the fellow lifts his head a little further from the basket, and yells at them: “I WAS TAUGHT IN THE SCHOOLZ THAT 2 + 2 = 7! NO, NO, 13! LOLOLOLOL!”
The group I’m with suddenly look at each other.
“I think he might be a… you know what. Lives under a bridge?” We all nod solemnly and watch the guy in the laundry basket begin to do donuts on a lawn near the debating folks. He’s laughing and screaming.
Finally, a police car pulls up. Out steps… well, not a mod… but Chief Wiggum. He steps out of his car and walks over to the guy in the laundry basket, who has suddenly stopped, shifty eyes focusing on Wiggum, and trembling under his towels.
“Let’s see what we have here,” Wiggum says, in his trademark nasal voice. He reaches inside the laundry basket, and Bearbear6537 is saying in a low, trembling voice, “No! NO!”
“AHA!” Wiggum says, and pulls out a thick sheaf of paper. He picks up his radio to call the guy in. “We got a real short guy here, I can just see a couple of eyeballs, uh… he’s covered by unfolded laundry and driving a…” he looks under the guy’s nametag, “a white laundry basket. Upon searching him, I found a whole stack of hastily scrawled porn, I repeat: HASTILY SCRAWLED PORN.”
There are murmurs among the regular posters. “I didn’t know you could get banned for hastily scrawled porn!” I saw many scramble to hide their piles of paper. I felt ripped off. I didn’t have a stack, and I wondered where the hell everyone else got theirs. Too late now. The mods drove up and down the street in a large white 1964 Chevy Impala, one with a bullhorn, announcing that Bearbear6537 was banned. Reason: possession of hastily scrawled porn and general trolling. Ed Zotti was driving. The lowrider began to bounce.
At this point, something sunk in to my conscious mind, and I woke up laughing hysterically at the phrase “hastily scrawled porn”.
Analyze it, if you wish, or share your own stuffy-head-nighttime-fever hallucinations. I’ll bring the tissue. For whatever orifice.
-
- This is what I was thinking in my dream. Hell if I know. I’ve never watched Star Trek.
** - Not a real poster. I checked.
