The next day. Henderson was dialing the phone. Somewhere behind us a howl shuddered through the superstructure of the imaginary idea we were trapped in. “Tang!” Tang didn’t answer. His avatar was dim and small. The tiny Tang was crouching and scratching his left ankle continually. It was a cycling loop. “He’s linkdead.” Timbot was…
Category Archives: Tang, Timbot, Doc and the girl
Cars
Everyone who could, continued. That left many paused in stunned silence. Pilston paused just beyond the entrance to the breakwater. The sopping roar that scratched the jet of air far over his head pulled at the fabric of his windbreaker. The car had brought him here. At the bottom of the puddled concrete stair, the…
More crackstory
Gaggleplexy. This is the new term that Doc used to describe the state he is in. He sits there, legs crossed, eyes crossed, testicles crossed. He is urgently grunting in extreme pain. We do not raise an arm to assist him. We can’t, physically – we’re goofed out and thinking this is the funniest thing…
Snatches of alucidty
Tang was slumped against the edge of the sofa, his head totally engrossed in what he had going on with his tablet. Tang, man. Doc nudges him. Dude, let us in. Timbot growls in a half cough. Fuckin’ Tang been at that drawing all afternoon. I thought he was passed out when I came in,…
I tweet
- @TheOnion has some kind of 5-page limit and a subscription-only policy now? Is this a joke? What the hell were those ads for?25/11/11 - 6:20 PM
- Alex spent two weeks battling the beavers who'd erected a lodge directly in the spring-fed pond from when his drinking water was drawn.24/11/11 - 8:22 PM
- Breathe the diesel fumes, seabreeze, woodsmoke, emmissions and fog. Arresting and absorbed.01/11/11 - 12:03 AM
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