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Post by Valodya Bassarov on Jan 31, 2005 3:49:26 GMT -5
(I was actually making that up to be random, not that I actually saw his name in the book)
I never knew you were on gymnastics team! The things you learn reading a yearbook!
Bassarov says, making up more random information about Freakboy's life.
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Post by Freak Boy on Jan 31, 2005 3:51:44 GMT -5
(Sorry. Hard to tell what sarcasm is when it's typed...)
Yeah well--wait a minute... I wasn't on the gymnastics team... Ok, now you're just messing with me. If you do want to see something I did, look in band and baseball. Freak Boy thought back.
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Post by Valodya Bassarov on Jan 31, 2005 3:56:54 GMT -5
I know, I am only teasing you. I would let you tease me about my high school experience, but we didn't have yearbooks at my school. I think that is an American thing. Or at least, I never saw it. We also didn't have school sponsored sports. We had community sponsored ones. I played soccer. I looked great in my blue soccer uniform with the chin pads and cleats, but was never very good.
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Post by Freak Boy on Jan 31, 2005 3:59:04 GMT -5
You struck me as more of a Rugby or Cricket guy, Bassarov. Freak Boy thought cheekily.
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Post by Valodya Bassarov on Jan 31, 2005 4:04:43 GMT -5
"I've never played either. But I did play communist soccer. You see, my party had its own soccer team. I found that most communists are actually very out of shape. It made me feel like an olympic athlete when I played with my out of shape comrades. Let's just say that we are all lucky that fate of capitalism was not deciced by a soccer match."
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Post by Freak Boy on Jan 31, 2005 4:08:45 GMT -5
Let's see... Lenin, Trotsky, Stalin, Mao Tse-tung, Rivera, Kruschev, Gorbachev... You're right. I can't think of many Communists who were in good physical condition. Trotsky was way too skinny as a young man, then slightly overweight as he got older, Stalin had a double chin, Lenin was very sick, Mao couldn't beat Stalin at an arm wrestling match, Diego Rivera was a blimp, Kruschev was fat and Gorbachev was a beached whale with a liverspot...
Hell, you and Mischa may be the only physically fit Communists I can think of.
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Post by Valodya Bassarov on Jan 31, 2005 4:14:06 GMT -5
Bassarov laughs. He walks to his room and starts getting ready for bed.
When do you think you will be coming back? If you are lonely I could send someone to visit you.
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Post by Freak Boy on Jan 31, 2005 4:16:51 GMT -5
I'll come back when the heat dies down, y'know? Don't want to endanger you guys - I do enough damage to your property on my own without getting Red Infinity to help.
I'm not lonely yet, but just out of curiosity who would you send? Also, like I said, I'd tell you where I am but you never know who's listening.
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Post by Valodya Bassarov on Jan 31, 2005 4:19:24 GMT -5
"Who would you like to have visit you? Maybe when things cool off you can tell me where you are and I can send someone...or you can send a coded message to us."
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Post by Freak Boy on Jan 31, 2005 4:23:07 GMT -5
I'll see if I can't get Kautsky to deliver a message to you - he seems to have a pretty secure thing going on. Anyway, it's getting late and I'm tired. I'll talk to you later Bassarov, tell Mischa I'm sorry about the window.
(goodnight...)
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Post by Valodya Bassarov on Jan 31, 2005 4:24:49 GMT -5
Very well, I will await word from him. Stay safe... Bassarov says. Stay safe? He sounds like a parent or teacher. He shakes his head and sits down at his desk to write.
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Post by Samuel on Jan 31, 2005 4:37:45 GMT -5
Samuel sat at the bar, back in Kelly's Pub, face on the counter and eyes closed. He sighed deeply and gestured to Kelly, the barkeeper and his long time friend, to come closer that they could talk.
Samuel rosed to a slumpped over position, resting his forearms on the counter, and looking at Kelly, then around the bar at all of the people. What's Left of the Flag was playing in the background.
"Y'know," Samuel said to the middle-aged barman. "Kelly, I love Winter with all my heart. And I know she loves me. But have you ever had the sort of feeling that things aren't going well, and their not going to be loking up anytime soon?" He asked.
Kelly rasied a quizzical eyebrow and asked him if he was going to get wet feet in his perfect relationship, with the perfect, beautiful, girl for him? And, was he going to break an angel's heart?
Samuel shook his head. "Nah, nothing like that. I was just asking, hypothetical, y'know?"
There was a long, akward pause. Samuel looked back Kelly in frustration.
"Okay, fine! I am second guessing myself, and my choices." He admitted to his long time friend. "But you of all people know the kind of situation that I'm in," He pointed a finger at Kelly. "And how dangerous our realtionship is. Don't give another one of you b.s. parables, either. I'm not in the mood tonight." He said, resting his head on his forearms.
After a few minutes ticked by slowly, Samuel stood up suddenly, pulling out some money and paying for his drinks.
He left to go back to the metro apartment he'd claimed, and back to Winter as well. Maybe they'd actually go out for dinner one day, both of them in a good mood. Out on the town for night of love and romance, throwing politics out the window and enjoying themselves fully.
He shook his head. When pigs flew.
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Post by Mikhael Nadyezhda (Mischa) on Jan 31, 2005 4:54:56 GMT -5
((Good lord, I miss one day of posting...))
I stagger out of a bar in celebration for my full recovery. I decided to celebrate by myself, seeing as how last time I went out barhopping with someone else, I ended up f**king a lesbian.
The cold hard dirt road hits my face, and I slowly climb to my feet. My balance is a lot better than I imagined, and decide that singing to myself sounds like a lot of fun.
"People always told me, 'be careful of what you do'. And don't go around breakin young girls hearts. And mother always told me, be careful who you love, and be careful what you do, 'cause the lie becomes the truth, hey, HEE!!"
Pelvic thrust.
"Billie Jean's, not my love... She's just a girl, who claims that I AM THE ONE!! But the KID IS NOT MY SON!!"
((I have no idea where Mischa is, so I'll just compensate by having him away from everyone.))
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Post by Valodya Bassarov on Jan 31, 2005 4:58:55 GMT -5
Bassarov pauses for a moment and wonders what Mischa is up to. He figures that his friend must be up to something important and political.
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Post by Sakari Lehtinen on Jan 31, 2005 5:01:52 GMT -5
Sakari leaves the warehouse with Antero, smiling. He rests his hands on the back of his head, and walks with a confident stride.
"Well Antero, I'm going to have to bring you along at all poker games." I say, smiling. We head towards the general direction of the anarchist house.
"Do you know of any good charities, Antero?"
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