DAMMIT, LMNO, WHERE'S MY SLACK™?

[Doktor Howl]

This last weekend was a failure, LMNO.  First, Daruko and Von Melee kick off Coffee Night with Irish carbombs and about a metric ton of whacky tabaccy, and went comatose.  Then on Saturday, the pervert bar was closed for a private party (Do you really want to know?  I don't.).  4th Avenue was likewise a bust, since they have thrown out all the insane street preachers and other freaks (Thanks for ruining it, Mayor Walkup, you hopelessly corrupt old ward-heeling hack!).

Sure, we stickered the hell out of The City, but where was the weirdness, now that I finally needed it?  Having spent a week and change lying in bed, I needed something more than seeing a 400 pound woman in spandex, wearing a shirt that says "YOU CAN'T HAVE THIS!"  Really, Alphapance, I expect obesity and stupidity, but I need more.  I MUST have more.

Getting back to the house, we found Kaz and Ken dueling with BB guns, and I spent a half an hour digging BBs out of their flesh (pics in Spagbook).  What the fuck is this shit?  That isn't my Slack™.  That isn't my Saturday night.

Dammit, man, I can't ask for what I need, because I don't know what I need, I only know that I need it, and I need it NOW.  And in large quantity.  And it should go fast, or explode, or both.  I need more guns.  And a harpoon (still).  And loud fucking music.

I NEED MY SATURDAY NIGHT, LMNO, AND I NEED TO KICK THE RECTUMS OUT OF THE BASTARDS THAT STOLE IT FROM ME!  I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE ON THE SLACK™-SUCKING BASTARDS THAT HAVE TORN ALL THE FUN OUT OF THIS SHITHOLE TOWN, AND THEN I WILL PISS ON THE ASHES OF WHATEVER IS LEFT.

I wasn't built for this tame shit, man.  I need perverts and noise and maybe a bit of violence.

Okay for now,
Dok.

[Freeky]

I know precisely what you are talking about, Roger. I am doing the Surprise Me Eris experiment, and when I started, I was hoping to make things weird and/or more exciting when I left the house. (Admittedly, this isn't often enough...) So far the only thing I've noticed is that there isn't nearly enough weird OR Slack in this city. I mean, what the fuck, Tucson? Where did you put your weirdies? You should take them out of their hiding spot, because this is unacceptable.

[Doktor Howl]

I know precisely what you are talking about, Roger. I am doing the Surprise Me Eris experiment, and when I started, I was hoping to make things weird and/or more exciting when I left the house. (Admittedly, this isn't often enough...) So far the only thing I've noticed is that there isn't nearly enough weird OR Slack in this city. I mean, what the fuck, Tucson? Where did you put your weirdies? You should take them out of their hiding spot, because this is unacceptable.

The weird is there, Freeky, but the bastards in city hall are making it move around too fast to catch.

Friggin' Miracle Mile got closed down, then 4th Avenue, the Dirty Boys on Grant Road are nowhere to be seen, and the fucking MEATRACK was CLOSED.

This town is going to hell in a gimp mask. 

[Freeky]

I propose a protest. "Give us back The Weird! It's the only thing this town has going for it!"

[Doktor Howl]

I propose a protest. "Give us back The Weird! It's the only thing this town has going for it!"

I'll show them "nice" and "safe" and "happy".  Oh, yes.  I'll show them all.

[LMNO]

The hell if I know where it went, Dok.  They closed the last of the freakshow haunts around here a couple of years ago.  The leather-and-rubber clad deviants slunk away into the night, and I really haven't seen them since.

Every so often they try to stage a comeback, but it just isn't the same.  Their moment is over, it seems.  The City has moved on, reclaimed the territory for so-called "better" things.  The fetish club was torn down; a block of condos now sits in its place.  Punk clubs with concrete floors and questionable beer are now 4-star hotels and fine eateries.  But we know that people don't change.  They're out there.  They must be.  Somewhere, the Next Weird Thing™ is crouching, waiting to pounce on a populous that's unaware, waiting to flip open its stained raincoat, and give us all the taste we've been waiting for.

With any luck, my body will still be able to handle it.

[Doktor Howl]

The hell if I know where it went, Dok.  They closed the last of the freakshow haunts around here a couple of years ago.  The leather-and-rubber clad deviants slunk away into the night, and I really haven't seen them since.

Every so often they try to stage a comeback, but it just isn't the same.  Their moment is over, it seems.  The City has moved on, reclaimed the territory for so-called "better" things.  The fetish club was torn down; a block of condos now sits in its place.  Punk clubs with concrete floors and questionable beer are now 4-star hotels and fine eateries.  But we know that people don't change.  They're out there.  They must be.  Somewhere, the Next Weird Thing™ is crouching, waiting to pounce on a populous that's unaware, waiting to flip open its stained raincoat, and give us all the taste we've been waiting for.

With any luck, my body will still be able to handle it.

You make a good point.  But I can't wait.  I need the shit NOW.

Perhaps I shall go looking for this new weird, who knows, maybe I'll get lucky and lead a horde of leather-clad freaks back to the legal district with smiles on our lips and arson and mayhem on our minds.  It would serve the bastards right, being dragged down the street behind a Harley Davidson bristling with sex toys and horrible spikey bits, while the Freaky Girls sing Gloria Gaynor tunes acapella and their brain-smashed offspring idly beat off into the gutters.  Yeah.  My town.  My people.  They are stinking degenerates and, for better or for worse, I am their prophet.

Never lean on the weird, LMNO.  Or they'll kill you.  And perverts will eat your brains. 

I know YOU are smart enough to know that, man, but are THEY? 

Do ya think?

[LMNO]

Don't look for the weird, my friend.


BE the weird.











Just bring plenty of wet-naps.

[Doktor Howl]

Don't look for the weird, my friend.


BE the weird.

By myself?  That's not nearly as much fun.

Just bring plenty of wet-naps.

Right, right.  Probably gonna need some Saran Wrap and welding blankets, too.  And a specially modified Slap-Chop™.

[LMNO]

You raise a valid point, however.  Exactly where does the Fun® go, when it goes away?  The underbelly remains, even if they don't have a point to coalesce around.  Maybe they simply disperse, drifting throughout their day, feeling more alone than ever.  They probably don't realize the things that the woman sitting next to them on the bus does behind the closed doors of her apartment.  That's the problem when the City™ tries to take over: people are tricked into believing that their thoughts are BadWrong, and they should keep them hidden inside.  If they don't have a focal point of Weird, they simply give up, their snarling libidos chained to a false morality, and the colors in their life slowly drain away.

[Doktor Howl]

You raise a valid point, however.  Exactly where does the Fun® go, when it goes away?  The underbelly remains, even if they don't have a point to coalesce around.  Maybe they simply disperse, drifting throughout their day, feeling more alone than ever.  They probably don't realize the things that the woman sitting next to them on the bus does behind the closed doors of her apartment.  That's the problem when the City™ tries to take over: people are tricked into believing that their thoughts are BadWrong, and they should keep them hidden inside.  If they don't have a focal point of Weird, they simply give up, their snarling libidos chained to a false morality, and the colors in their life slowly drain away.

You have, as always, precisely identified the problem.  I knew I went to the right man.

Leave the solution to me.  Ho ho!  We shall indeed march on a road of bones, LMNO.

[LMNO]

You raise a valid point, however.  Exactly where does the Fun® go, when it goes away?  The underbelly remains, even if they don't have a point to coalesce around.  Maybe they simply disperse, drifting throughout their day, feeling more alone than ever.  They probably don't realize the things that the woman sitting next to them on the bus does behind the closed doors of her apartment.  That's the problem when the City™ tries to take over: people are tricked into believing that their thoughts are BadWrong, and they should keep them hidden inside.  If they don't have a focal point of Weird, they simply give up, their snarling libidos chained to a false morality, and the colors in their life slowly drain away.

You have, as always, precisely identified the problem.  I knew I went to the right man.

Leave the solution to me.  Ho ho!  We shall indeed march on a road of boners, LMNO.

Obvious edit.

[Doktor Howl]

You raise a valid point, however.  Exactly where does the Fun® go, when it goes away?  The underbelly remains, even if they don't have a point to coalesce around.  Maybe they simply disperse, drifting throughout their day, feeling more alone than ever.  They probably don't realize the things that the woman sitting next to them on the bus does behind the closed doors of her apartment.  That's the problem when the City™ tries to take over: people are tricked into believing that their thoughts are BadWrong, and they should keep them hidden inside.  If they don't have a focal point of Weird, they simply give up, their snarling libidos chained to a false morality, and the colors in their life slowly drain away.

You have, as always, precisely identified the problem.  I knew I went to the right man.

Leave the solution to me.  Ho ho!  We shall indeed march on a road of boners, LMNO.

Obvious edit.

THAT, TOO.

[Jenne]

You guys need to either 1) live closer to your relatives or 2) get weirder relatives.

Because for real, all I have to do is visit MINE for a 24-hour period, and I have enough of the WEIRD for about a month or two.  OR invite them HERE...so my neighbors can listen to howling and various other cackles of fiendish delight and metallic banging until 5 am or the sun rises/whichever comes first.

[Doktor Howl]

You guys need to either 1) live closer to your relatives or 2) get weirder relatives.

Because for real, all I have to do is visit MINE for a 24-hour period, and I have enough of the WEIRD for about a month or two.  OR invite them HERE...so my neighbors can listen to howling and various other cackles of fiendish delight and metallic banging until 5 am or the sun rises/whichever comes first.

There are varying standards of weird.