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In which I tell no lies, and am Athenian.
Apr. 21st, 2010 09:57 pmSo.
I have just returned from my weekly (as of the last three weeks but not including last week as I was snowed in) meeting of the Athenian Square Table group. Wednesdays are our unofficial coffee nights, a time when we commandeer a collection of square tables at a local coffee house and talk about any particular number of things that might cross our minds.
In no particular order, this evening's subjects included porn, Rule 34 (the drinking game), explaining Teabonics (and, by extension, teabagging), what one might do with $500 of yogurt, World of Warcraft and its application to arguments of racism and sociology, songs to get stuck in your head (I contributed Stephen's Exhibition), tattoos, conventions, Star Trek and the origins of Trekkies (which included the story of William Shatner standing at a pay phone in the city's central park as he hadn't been updated on the convention date change), how to realistically recreate a necrophiliac sex doll, repression, drama students, the significance of political landmarks in regards to prostitution, glasses, Bollywood movies, child-rearing, sex education, cultural differences between Malaysia and Canada, what to put in sleeves, Twilight being a girl's dilemma between choosing bestiality or necrophilia (and utter lack of foresight in seeing the range of her alternatives), man-purses, and how we were somehow not yet ejected from the aforementioned coffee house.
And then, as we meandered out into the street to go to our respective vehicles and depart to respective homes, my brother and his wife drove by and handed me a plate of chocolate and grape icing cookies.
I swear, not a word of a lie. Little puffy chocolate cake sandwich cookies with grape icing in the middle.
It was an interesting night.
I have just returned from my weekly (as of the last three weeks but not including last week as I was snowed in) meeting of the Athenian Square Table group. Wednesdays are our unofficial coffee nights, a time when we commandeer a collection of square tables at a local coffee house and talk about any particular number of things that might cross our minds.
In no particular order, this evening's subjects included porn, Rule 34 (the drinking game), explaining Teabonics (and, by extension, teabagging), what one might do with $500 of yogurt, World of Warcraft and its application to arguments of racism and sociology, songs to get stuck in your head (I contributed Stephen's Exhibition), tattoos, conventions, Star Trek and the origins of Trekkies (which included the story of William Shatner standing at a pay phone in the city's central park as he hadn't been updated on the convention date change), how to realistically recreate a necrophiliac sex doll, repression, drama students, the significance of political landmarks in regards to prostitution, glasses, Bollywood movies, child-rearing, sex education, cultural differences between Malaysia and Canada, what to put in sleeves, Twilight being a girl's dilemma between choosing bestiality or necrophilia (and utter lack of foresight in seeing the range of her alternatives), man-purses, and how we were somehow not yet ejected from the aforementioned coffee house.
And then, as we meandered out into the street to go to our respective vehicles and depart to respective homes, my brother and his wife drove by and handed me a plate of chocolate and grape icing cookies.
I swear, not a word of a lie. Little puffy chocolate cake sandwich cookies with grape icing in the middle.
It was an interesting night.
