The SereniTREE on Rukus, Pleasure Planet of the Cozen Cluster
POSTED BY: TheRealMe
UPDATED: Sunday, March 20, 2005 21:04
VIEWED: 28631
PAGE 19 of 21
Quote:
Originally posted by Rat:
If I see your mind out and about, I'll let you know!
Gold chains???Huh?
-Ratboy
Rat?
* The Real Me stares in disbelief. *
Rat? Is it possible that you do NOT know who “Mister T” is? He of the massive muscles and equally massive amounts of gold jewelry? Why, he was quite popular only… uh… let me see, how many years would that have been? Only about…
Oh, right. You probably weren’t born yet!
* The Real Me starts feeling OLD again. *
“Heh! Kids these days! *cough cough* Why, Sonny, when I was young… *cough* Well, we knew all the words to King Tut, that’s for damn sure… And we watched A-Team on that video box do-hicky. ‘Course, back then we only had three channels. Yep, just three. Four sometimes when PBS came in clear. And Arnold Ziffel on Green Acres… Heh. That little guy carried the show!”
* The Old Me smiles. *
“That reminds me of a story…”
The Real Me, First Officer of the Sereni-Tree
(The Real Me cannot currently receive messages from this site; he is not ignoring you. But he CAN receive e-mail at realme@pcibroadband.net.)
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Quote:
Originally posted by montanagirl:
*Sighs* I love college basketball.
Packer fans welcome.
All others tolerated.
*BJS begins ascent up MG's scantlily clad....*
Squarf!
Hmm, not much in the way of clothing to get a grip on. And, from a parrot's dietary perspective, the choclaty bits ain't helpin'
*Remembers he has wing things.*
*Flappety flaps onto MG's right shoulder, nibbles at the well tanned right ear*
Observation deck o' the hotel. 200 foot wide plasma tv. Yer favourite players will have noses the size of basketballs. Betting forms, massage tables, comfy massaging chairs and a Brent Favre masseuse (with Dale Earnhart trainee). 64,000 bottles of chilled pepsi. Steakhouse next to the vegan cafeteria. The Universe's most profoundly stocked condomery, sadly underutilised. 64,001 litre bottles of the 'verse's best rootbeers. And, sorta shambling in the corner, 7 grooms awaiting a like number of blushing Brides.
Zero (0) dimensional portals. Sqoink! TRM: yer on yer own on this one.
Mai: you've set a record for non-nakedness. You've either grown as a person, or have not yet stumbled upon the right context. Here's hopin!
***
Gone the R-rate shenanigans
With SereniTree-ers.
So it goes, but we move on
To cold show-ow-ers.
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Quote:
Originally posted by jake7:Quote:
Originally posted by TheRealMe:
Greetings, everyone! I have dinner ready!
TRM, this is DELICIOUS! Where'd you learn to cook like this?
Jake7, while it is true that I can adequately boil pasta in water, dump the contents of cans into pots to heat them up, and shove frozen food into the oven, I must admit that otherwise, I am not much of a cook. This feast was prepared by Bride7.
* At the grill, Bride7 smiles and waves. *
The Brides have been minor characters on the SereniTree for a while, now, but I’ve been having trouble involving them in our plots (*whisper* since they’re not really real!). They were created during the Gala Pageant of Cross Dressing Men. The joke that created them was sort of funny, but there has been no exit path for them, and I’m afraid that they’ve sort of languished. I’m going to try to arrange some interviews with Cozen’s parrot to see if they can get jobs here. Or maybe I can find seven brothers to marry them.
* The Real Me fidgets. He is experiencing some uncomfortable feeling, as if someone were glaring at him. *
The Real Me, First Officer of the Sereni-Tree
(The Real Me cannot currently receive messages from this site; he is not ignoring you. But he CAN receive e-mail at realme@pcibroadband.net.)
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Quote:
Originally posted by SimonWho:
Oh, and is this blue box about 7 feet high, with a light on top and emitting a humming sound? If so, that's my one. Just leave it anywhere, I'll pick it up later.
Um, er, you might wanna be, like, really careful about how you deploy the workings of that there box, eh? No telling what we all might become should you press the "RUN" button.
***
Terror. Frankly, a reasonable emotion.
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Quote:
Originally posted by cozen:
The Universe's most profoundly stocked condomery, sadly underutilised.
I've been wanting to say this my entire life (or at least since I saw Meaning of Life). *Ahem* I want you to sell me a condom, for I am a Protestant!
Quote:
Observation deck o' the hotel. 200 foot wide plasma tv. Yer favourite players will have noses the size of basketballs. Betting forms, massage tables, comfy massaging chairs and a Brent Favre masseuse (with Dale Earnhart trainee). 64,000 bottles of chilled pepsi. Steakhouse next to the vegan cafeteria.
I love you, man. You have given me all the elements of the triumverate that I worship: Duke, Dale, and the Packers. Plus Pepsi and steak. What more could a girl ask for?
Packer fans welcome.
All others tolerated.
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Quote:
Originally posted by montanagirl:Quote:
Originally posted by TheRealMe:
Before that, the men had to slavishly attend to the ladies, but we've since become liberated.
And you've been waited on slavishly yourself since then if I recall correctly. And I do because I was doing the waiting with twg. (Back when I was practicing my wiles.)
Packer fans welcome.
All others tolerated.
You know, I tend not to abbreviate your name. I’ve always called you ‘MontanaGirl’. SimonsCandyApple is a bit long, though.
Pardon me. I’ll be right back.
* The Real Me steps back through the dimensional portal but quickly returns, bearing hammocks and a pot containing four long palm fronds (genuine Florida palm fronds, only mildly wilted). He attaches four of the hammocks among a nearby cluster of trees, parallel to one another. The Real Me returns to the group of people around the campfire. *
MontanaGirl, it occurs to me that I never properly thanked you for the wiles-practicing that you did on me so long ago. Please forgive my rudeness for the long delay. If you will allow it, I will express my appreciation now.
* Gently, The Real Me picks up MontanaGirl (along with her hand-held TV), carries her over to the hammocks, and carefully deposits her in one. He places a drink in her hand, complete with one of those tiny little umbrellas (that actually works!). The Real Me starts the hammock swaying, and begins to fan MontanaGirl with a palm frond. The hammock has been positioned to keep the ever-setting sun out of MontanaGirl’s eyes, and to take advantage of the pleasant breeze coming off the ocean. *
This is how we used to do things back in the time of “The Forgotten Not a Guy/Girl Clubhouse”. Of all of the minions of those days, I am the last and greatest, unless Gunhand should return.
Look, I can even recite poetry:
“In Xanadu did Kublai Khan
A stately pleasure dome decree,
Where Alph, the sacred river ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to the flowing sea.”
(Well, there you have it! But what that fuzzy little smart-mouthed alien had to do with Olivia Newton John, I’ll never understand.)
The Real Me, First Officer of the Sereni-Tree
(The Real Me cannot currently receive messages from this site; he is not ignoring you. But he CAN receive e-mail at realme@pcibroadband.net.)
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* While "minioning" to MontanaGirl, The Real Me notices Mal-licious near the fire. *
Ooooops!
Ebo Golem! Go pick up the top half of Sparky and bring him here, please.
* The Ebo Golem moves to comply. It goes to fetch Sparky, who is still face down in the sand making “Dance Like an Egyptian” motions with his arms. The Ebo Golem carries Sparky back to the hammock area. *
Good, Ebo Golem. Stand there just like that and hold him upright.
* The Real Me places a palm frond in one of Sparky’s hands. Sparky begins to wave it at MontanaGirl. The Real Me walks over to Mal-licious, picks her up, and carries her to another hammock. While he does this, The Real Me is somewhat wary of Mal-licious’ bionic spine, and is careful that it doesn’t shoot out spikes at him or start glowing red. The Real Me places Mal-licious in another hammock and picks up a second palm frond. *
*Sigh*
You know, Mal, you are going to cause all sorts of time-warp paradoxes by bumping those ancient clubhouse threads. You probably should have linked to them, instead. There’s already people who think they are active, and are joining up on both the I AM NOT A GUY and the I AM A GUY threads. This might start the battles of the sexes all over again.
Carnage! Destruction! Eunuchs!
* The Real Me thinks back fondly on those old times. *
Yeah, it’s been a long ride. Why, back when I first met her, Ebo hated me…
The Real Me, First Officer of the Sereni-Tree
(The Real Me cannot currently receive messages from this site; he is not ignoring you. But he CAN receive e-mail at realme@pcibroadband.net.)
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Quote:
Originally posted by TheRealMe Friday, September 10, 2004:
* The Real Me raises an eyebrow and glances down at his own drink. *
I THOUGHT that it had something of a metallic tang to it...
* The Real Me strides over to Sparky, grabs him by the antennae, and pulls the robot's face out of the punch bowl. *
Hey! That's enough of that! Now, spit it all back into the bowl for the rest of us!
Yeah Sparky, don't puke in the punch bowl, and tell us it's Alphabrt soup!!!!!
-Ratboy
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Quote:
Originally posted by montanagirl:
I love you, man.
***
"Love is all you need".
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Quote:
Originally posted by TheRealMe:
* The Real Me starts feeling OLD again. *......* The Old Me smiles. *
Now it's me who feels old, I watched A-Team when I was a kid. I just don,t remeber it that well, something about a red van and a big black guy with gold trim and.....No, thats about it!
"You got a job? We can do it! Don't much care what it is."
-Ratboy
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