Dragaera

Loraan, Orlaan, Rolaan...

Thu May 29 13:14:45 PDT 2003

On Thursday, May 29, 2003, at 02:55 PM, Chris Olson - SunPS wrote:

> All right, since no one else has continued this, and
> I'm always looking for a good excuse to ignore my work....
>
>> "It was a dark and stormy night in the city of Aalron. I was hungry 
>> and
>> decided to get some chow at Laanro's Bar and Grill. It was then I met 
>> a
>> man.  He was sitting at the end of the bar, nursing his beer.  He
>> clearly had a lot on his mind.  He hadn't been there long; rain still
>> dripped off of his long leather coat.  I was a couple of seats down;
>> eating my chili con carne.  His beer, a Nalora Porter, appeared to 
>> have
>> recovered from his brief mouth-to-mouth resucitatation effort,
>> although I suspect that relationship was doomed to be a short one.
>> I stared at my chili con carne, toying with it with my spoon when he
>> spoke . . .
>
> "Hey, buddy.  You know the biggest problem facing our world today?  
> Flea
> collars.  Damn things smell worse than an elderly male yak.  And they
> chafe across the neck, too.  I've got a whole dozen back at the house. 
> Tried various brands too, and they all just as bad."

Then to my surprise he began to itch. No just his arms, or a face like 
a normal human, but his under arms, between his fingers and he was 
reaching down to itch somewhere I didn't want to think about when SHE 
walked in, straight of heaven or one of those wet dreams mechanics 
have...."



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"Everybody generalizes from one example.  At least, I do."--Steven Brust