11:26 PM
Well, as he threatened to do, JP has linked to this page from the Mindfile (pimpin' right back at 'cha!) Now it'll be really interesting to see who comes by to witness my online breakdown and blatherings. I know he's in touch with a lot of the fondly-remembered and now-departed SA Goons who entertained me so much when I was but a lurker. If you happen to be one of them, thanks and hello. The Forums go on (well, not right now, but you know what I mean,) but they're not the same without you, folks.

JP has also gone home after our crazy at-work marathon, and I am about to follow his good example. But before I do: after catching a couple on-couch hours around noon I awoke to find several email messages to the Monkeyfan list that I don't recall writing. Like this one, following a request to add someone to the list:

>Tim VanDeHey wants in.

They _all_ want "in". Is Goodman VanDeHey aware of the rights and
responsibilities of being a member of our esteemed company? Does he
undertand that I like my waffles golden brown and crispy, with the syrup
warmed but on the side? Does he know that when the revolution comes it will
be his job to line Rob's suppliers up against the wall, nearby automated
death cannons be damned? Will he undertake late-night covert missions to
hack his employer's workstation both to put NORAD under our control and to
buy the next week's supply of fresh Monkeyboxers? If push comes to shove,
will he side with a clone of Leonard Maltin against the zombie Siskel? To be
a Pal-o-mine-o will he ride a Palomino and never once bitch about saddle
sores or bad puns? Is he tough enough to get the secret Monkey tatoo, yet
tender enough to tame our savage detractors with the sweet nectar of
Bolivian poetry? Does he speak Swedish, Latin, English, Yiddish, Esperento,
Pig Latin, Swedish again, and Geek? What level is his half-orc archer, and
what magic items does he offer the party? Can he back up his tough words
with fisticuffs, never once straying outside the fair and just rules set by
the Marquis of Queensbury? Will he strike fear in the hearts of our enemies,
yet bring something other than chips or dessert to the next potluck? Are his
pants neatly pressed in accordance with his espoused "Dapper or Death"
philosphy? How many clips will he lock in his MAC when the Midwest Monkey
Posse finally steps in to settle the coastal Rap Wars? Does he swear like a
sailor yet smell like a rose? He wouldn't dare disagree that sweet dreams
are made of these, would he? Did he bring enough chewing gum for everyone,
along with a shitload of dimes so we can freely travel the William J.
LePetomine Tollway all the way to Rock Ridge?

Yeah, okay, I'll sign him up. But he better live up to this Herculean image
you paint, Brother Willems!

>He is tired

HE's tired? I'm loony!
Yipeeyippeeyippeeyippeeyippeeyippeeyippeeyippeeyippeesleepnow.


--Seth


Apparently I was in a strange and interesting zone.

As much fun as returning to that place again tonight might be, I now go to collapse, for I meet friends at the the-ay-tre for a noon matinee. Until tomorrow...