[F] The Molemeet Report... from a first-timer's perspective
AfPhantom
sure how the format goes, but I shall give of my best...
Still, as I wasn't actually asked to do the report until I was
too drunk to say 'no', forgive me if my recollection of events
is a little hazy - I wasn't paying as much attention as I should
have been :-) I've also decided to spare you from my filks of
the evening - for which you should be truly thankful - on the
grounds that dMark has done it much better already...
---
The Setting
The Cottage Pub was described by the good Mole as being
"the least bad" in the area, but seemed OK to this ghost.
Apart from the Gents toilets, that is. You don't want to know
about it.
Snugly outfitted in the guise of a library(!), the cosy nook which
we occupied at the end of the pub was relatively free from the
juke-box[1] music being played, but displayed a regrettable lack
of orang-utans. If and when there is (as I hope) a Molemeet 2.0,
I shall make good this deficiency :-)
The beer was good. This is why I had so much of it. This is also
why you can expect to read some quite horrendous typographical
errors in this post (he said, having had to correct this sentence
three times so far).
---
The Beginning
When I arrived, Mr. Horry, pol, dMark, and of course the great
Mole himself were already present. The first words I ever heard
spoken at an afpmeet were those of the MegaMole as I was
standing there looking bemusedly across the pub at an assortment
of afp-type objects on their table. I was just wondering if I was
staring at the right group, or if maybe this pub was notorious for its
gangs of soft-toy-toting chocolate abusers, when I was rescued with
the words;
"Yes, this _is_ an afpmeet!"
Mr. Mole - who is, let me get this out of the way now, a most pleasant
and congenial host and all-around good bloke - then proceeded to
make the introductions, which duty he performed admirably for the
remainder of the evening, and with great aplomb.
He also proceeded immediately to buy me a beer, which act of
generosity endeared him to me forever and assured that I felt right at
home.
Because drinking beer is what I do at home, too. :-)
---
The End of The Beginning and Most of The Middle Bit
The first - and most vital - topic of conversation was the question
introduced by the Mole on the lines of "who is going to do the
quotefile?", causing me to reach for a pencil - and pol (first words
to me "hello there") and Zerbey ("Hi") to reach for scary-looking
objects with lots of buttons - subsequently generating the first quote
of the evening.
That matter settled, conversation turned inevitably to the Horry skill
at LARTing and tales of misery (inflicted by him, mostly) in the
computing world. Just before things descended into total geekhood
(my status as a BOFH adding to the already considerable geekly
presence) we were rescued by the arrival of Charrisa ("Hello") and
Piers ("Did you know Tara?" !), and we started pretending to be
real people with lives and everything <g>.
Chit-chat then drifted this way and that, largely centred around the
ever-popular topic of Music - deserving of a capital muh due to the
presence of the absurdly talented MegaMole and Charrisa. The Mole
and I may also have perpetrated South Park quotes at this point as
some people claim, but "Godd*mit you sons of bitches!" we both
hotly deny the charge :-)
I was chuffed absolutely to bits and pieces by the arrival of my much-
beloved Elaine [2] ("I'm your afpfiance - meet my husband!"),
Jonathon (sp.?) and Ponder. This last worthy, I respectfully submit,
should instead take for himself the sobriquet of Tomjom on the grounds
that he has a positively awesome ability to recite entire Blackadder
scripts from end to end. I warn you all - this man is dangerous.
A name-change would also resolve the difficulty over the proper
division of 'Ponder & co' between those who afp under that name.
A certain amount of confusion seemed to be prevailing on that score,
with Ponder's dad mournfully concluding at one stage "I suppose I
must be the '&'."
The arrival of this cheerful family of mixed nuts led indirectly to the
conversation longbow-and-archery-geeking for a time, thereby
wending its manic way around to MegaMole remarking upon those
people he knows who are best able to commit violent mayhem with
their bare hands and/or various charming cultural weapons. Triple
Orcthrust with Extra Flip, anyone? I'll have mine with ice and lemon
but if little paper umbrellas are involved, There Will Be Trouble :-)
Through an ever-growing alcoholic haze, the arrival of the remainder
of the troupe swelled our numbers to an extent whereby many
chair-search-and-retrieval missions were undertaken. There was no
chance of anyone else getting the idea that they could also inhabit our
end of the pub, if only because everything that could be sat on was
being sat on, often with some vigour.
I was mildly surprised to learn that Gidnsuzi (a.k.a Suzingid) are, in
fact, two (very nice) people, and not some form of composite entity
as I had previously supposed <g>.
Suzi ("So you're Phantom? Trina says 'hi' and Tigger says 'bounce'.")
earned herself a place alongside Elaine and the Mole in my
already-crowded heart by passing around chocolate-covered fudge
as her first action.
Gid (me to him; "You'd never get a whippet in there!") caused them all to
budge up a bit and make room when he did a very good impression of
taking a good-natured interest in the songbook I thrust at him almost
immediately upon his arrival :-) Sorry, Gid.
My personal curiosity was further sated when the Multi-talented
Multi-national Archangel Miq ("That's Phantom? You BASTARD!") [3]
arrived, with his customary look of good-natured stup^W^intelligence <g>,
allowing me finally to match a face to the much-maligned (by me)
character. Despite his somewhat unorthodox greeting-style, he seemed
to me to be a thoroughly nice chap - although this could I suppose have
been a protective camouflage to fit in with all the other thoroughly nice
chaps and chappesses foregathered at the Molemeet :-)
An ongoing feaure of the evening was the regrettable tendency of certain
afp'ers[4] to burst into song; loudly, poorly and at inappropriate
junctures - sometimes causing others to join in against their will and
prompting the MegaMole to remark "I was hoping to be allowed back in
this pub afterwards, if you don't mind," although he was smiling as he
said it.
Sort of. :-)
Absolutely monstrous quantities of chocolate were consumed, due in large
part to the provision by some worthy of a large bar of Cadbury's finest
(no sniggering please) and a chocolate egg that looked like an extra
from Willy Wonka Does Jurassic Park. Had a chocolate brontosaurus
hatched from within, I would not have been surprised.
That last bit was a lie, actually.
---
The End of The Middle and the Beginning of The End
As the evening progressed, Mr. Horry - a credit to his profession -
decided that he had had quite enough for one evening and left early. :-)
Events continued in much the same vein without his presence,
although it is entirely possible that the average quality of the anecdotes
decreased ever-so-slightly. Or was that increased? I can never
remember... <g, d, rlh>
Drawing this blurry picture of the proceedings to a rapid close, I shall
gloss over the hanging around, the defiant clutching of pint glasses and
the singing of the Wimoweh song as a prophylactic 'gainst getting
thrown out of the pub at closing time.
Those who were leaving, left.
In fact we all left, but as four of us left in the same direction
(approximately
- walking whilst under the influence of large quantities of alcohol is not
an exact science) it could be said that the meet continued. The Mole,
Piers, Charrissa and I staggered with alacrity from the pub, mumbling
good-byes to all and sundry, some of whom were even there.
---
Really The End
Something else I'm not going to mention is the fact that even though the
Mole - with his usual sense of taste and timing - suggested that we go
for a pizza, we nonetheless ended up going for the inevitable kebab.
I'm not going to name the person responsible for this heinous
acknowledgement of intoxicant tradition, but she knows who she is.
Damn, that narrowed it down a bit, didn't it? <g>
Having consumed our delightful repast (pah!) we threaded through the
lonely highways and byways of Welwyn Garden City. Well, we didn't,
but it does sound considerably better than "We got a taxi".
Regardless of how we got there, we did eventually arrive at the house
of the Mole's mother - which, incidentally, is so beautiful she could charge
admission. The Mole, Piers and Charrisa - so rumour has it - continued to
consume alcoholic beverages and talk late into the night like the heroic
stalwarts they truly are. I - having been tired before I even got to the
meet - went straight to bed like the panty-wasting girly wuss _I_ truly am
:-)
As I was not materially present for that small gathering, my tale is told...
Extreme thanks to the MegaMole for organising and so graciously hosting
a very enjoyable meet, and undying gratitude to the MoleMother for
allowing three disreputable mendicant Pratchett fans a very lovely safe
haven for the night.
---
Addendum
Bright were the skies and high our hearts when we awoke the following
morning, and cheefully we made our way back to our respective abodes.
Well, it would be nice to think so, wouldn't it?
In fact, MegaMole once more proved himself a thoroughly worthy gent
by driving the Transport-less Trio to the train station back in town, to an
accompanying chorus of fragile-sounding moans.
The main reason I'm telling you this, other than to illustrate once more
the Mole's consummate skill as host, is what happened to me afterwards.
It's not often I get a true story worth telling :-)
---
Arriving at King's Cross tube station from Welwyn Garden City at about
half-past ten on a Sunday morning, there were many notices plastered
about the place informing customers of current disruptions to services.
Forgive any mis-quoting of tube services, as I am rarely in London and
can never get the tube system straight, but the rest of what transpired is,
I swear, nearly verbatim. I really shouldn't laugh as it was probably not
the fault of those unfortunates left behind... but more of that in a
moment. This incident utterly restored my faith in the inhuman nature of
all those whose job it is to read things out over any sort of public
address system...
Whilst waiting for the train, the following announcement came over the
tannoy;
"Would all customers please note that the Hammersmith and City line
and Metropolitan line services from King's Cross are not in operation
today. All customers please board the Circle Line train now arriving.
Customers for the Hammersmith and City line should change at
Edgeware Road, and customers for the Metropolitan line please
change at Baker Street."
All this was delivered in the thoroughly weary and dispirited tones of
a man who had said this forty times so far today and wasn't leaving
work for another four hours. Just _how_ weary and dispirited had
yet to become apparent, however...
About ten seconds later, the announcement was repeated as the
Circle line train pulled up to the platform. Perhaps half of the people
waiting boarded. The tannoy sprang into life once more, with
a definite hint of exasperation in its booming tones;
"Customers should note that the Circle line service is the _only_
service departing from Kings Cross station today. Customers
wishing to use the Hammersmith and City line and Metropolitan
line services should board this train."
Perhaps half-a-dozen more people boarded, looking deeply
suspicious about the whole affair, but another couple of dozen
obstinately remained. A guard began walking down the platform,
explaining things clearly and concisely, and managed to get a
few more to budge, but it was plain that further elaboration was
required...
"Could all customers please note that the Circle line service IS
THE ONLY service leaving from King's Cross today."
Not good enough. No-one budged. Those of us inside the tube
train were by now starting to smirk... Then it started getting
really good.
"I would like to apologise for the lack of clarity in the previous
annoucement. The Circle line service is the only service leaving
this station today, and the train currently waiting at the platform
IS a Circle line train. Therefore, COULD - ALL - CUSTOMERS
waiting on the platform PLEASE board this train if they wish to
depart this station by rail."
This seemed to do the trick for a moment, as a large contingent of
tourist-looking types all standing together on the platform surged
forward. Obviously the voice of dissent was heard amongst them,
because they halted in their rush and started arguing amongst
themselves. I _wish_ I had been close enough to hear what they
were saying - although their voices were heavily accented and I'm
pretty sure I don't speak whatever language they were using.
This could explain their next actions, although I seriously doubt that
_everyone_ on the platform spoke no English... they were just in
that trance-like state induced by the London Underground.
A burly, mustachioed gent flapped his hands at the surrounding
gaggle of folk and they stepped back from the train. This movement
was not lost on the unseen voice, who gave up totally...
"Could all customers waiting on the platform please note that the next
_through_ trains for the Metropolitan and Hammersmith and City
line services depart from this station at five o' clock tomorrow
morning. Enjoy your journey."
The door alarms sounded, and the unseen voice delivered the clincher...
I swear this is what he said...
"Please stand back. The train will now depart.
Without you.
Have a nice day."
Naturally enough, many people leaped forward as the doors started
to close, but too late, too late...
I don't know if this is just a dull story or a metaphor for human existence,
but it definitely marks the end - for me at least - of the events loosely
connected with the excellent and thoroughly enjoyable Molemeet.
*hugs to all*
--
AfPhantom
Seraph of the Heavenly Host, joyfully enabilh'elated, happily afphianced
to the Magical Mad Dragon and the Elysian Elaine *hugs*, back in the
jug agane (ra skool!) at the Molehill, blissfully afpwedded to Trina and
shotgun-married to Peter Ellis <g>
[1] Why are they called 'juke-boxes' I wonder? Is it perhaps because
every time you hear one you want to punch it?
[2] Dammit, I'll take you to Tuscany myself if I have to! :-)
[3] It's not that I haven't done anything, or even that I don't know what
I've done - the question is, what was he referring to in particular? <g>
And despite reports, he did not advance menacingly towards this ghost,
but instead sat still menacingly which was, for some reason, even
scarier :-)
[4] Well, alright, me. :-(
Suzi
(Jar...@afphantom.freeserve.co.uk) wibbled...
[Snip meet report and beginning of underground tale]
> The door alarms sounded, and the unseen voice delivered the clincher...
> I swear this is what he said...
>
> "Please stand back. The train will now depart.
>
> Without you.
>
> Have a nice day."
>
> Naturally enough, many people leaped forward as the doors started
> to close, but too late, too late...
I swear the drivers on the tubes are getting more "human" these days...
we had the experience of someone trying to hold open doors and getting
quite upset that the "voice" kept telling him not to... he gave up
eventually, and the voice came over the tannoy:
<fx: exasperated yet polite voice> "I apologise for the delay. Some
<pause> gentleman <pause> was trying to keep the train doors open
despite the fact the next train will be along in five minutes"
Gives you hope in an otherwise less-and-less human world <g>
Suzi
--
Need help with afp-netiquette... then try afp-...@lspace.org
New to afp? point your browser at http://www.lspace.org/
New to Usenet posting? browse http://psg.com/emily.html
The Irrelevant page: http://www.netcomuk.co.uk/~gidnsuzi/index.html
Ailbhe Leamy
> Suzi wrote:
> > I swear the drivers on the tubes are getting more "human" these days...
Was it the inestimable Mr Wragg who had a tale of a tube which, on
Halowe'en, stopped mid-tunnel, had all its lights turned off, and was
filled with the enthusiastic "Mwahahahahahaha!!!" of the driver?
I like the driver with the Scottish accent who said "You _can_ all get
into the carriages at the front, but if some of you move to the back of
the train you mightn't be squashed like sardines" or words to that
effect... he sounded exasperated in the extreme [1].
Ailbhe
xxx
[1] Which extreme? I know of several...
--
Ailbhe -- afphianced to Mike "Afproposals? Humbug!" Knell -- *Waves* to
the
Queue and Enailbh'elated -- Homepage at
http:/www.tanstafl.demon.co.uk/ailbhe/
AFP Code 1.1a ALi-IE/UK d? s--: a20 UP++ R+@ F+ h- P-- OSU-:++ C+++ M-
pp+ L++ c B Cn PT-- Pu61+ 5 X? MT e! !r x+ end
Jeff Cooper
>
> Sorcha wrote:
> > Suzi wrote:
>
> > > I swear the drivers on the tubes are getting more "human" these days...
>
> Was it the inestimable Mr Wragg who had a tale of a tube which, on
> Halowe'en, stopped mid-tunnel, had all its lights turned off, and was
> filled with the enthusiastic "Mwahahahahahaha!!!" of the driver?
>
> I like the driver with the Scottish accent who said "You _can_ all get
> into the carriages at the front, but if some of you move to the back of
> the train you mightn't be squashed like sardines" or words to that
> effect... he sounded exasperated in the extreme [1].
>
I used to work for Skytrain, Vancouver's Rapid Transit. (Kind of like
the Tube put up on pylons.) My favourite announcement to make was when
some clueless passenger hung his (or her) head and other parts out into
the track area to see if the train was coming. I would say "If you get
hit, it'll ruin your whole day." over the station address system. It
worked best when there were other people on the platform. All heads
would turn to see the sheepish passenger slinking back to safety.
--
Jeff C
Replace "Munged 'at'NOSPAM.invalid" with "jecooper'at'Direct.CA" to
reply.
Heather Knowles
<s...@jdal.xxxdemon.co.uk> writes
>Didn't they have a top ten of excuses for why the train was late? I
>was quite upset not to see my personal favourite, heard whilst on a
>Virgin Train from Sheffield to Newcastle:
>"Would all passengers in carriage C please move to neighbouring
>carriages as the smell is not going to get any better"
Even better than mine, also from a Virgin train: 'We apologise for the
late arrival of this train at York. This was due to signalling failures,
flooding on the line, and the fact that we thought we'd lost one of our
trains in a tunnel.'
>Why Cricket is better than Football,
>#1: interesting commentary:
>"There's six stumps collected, so good
>news for the Essex stump collecters"
:) A woman after my own heart. I'm going to watch Australia play at
Durham on the 27th :))
--
luv Heaven - Nanny Ogg to Stewart's Coven, snug in the Molehill,
At One with Mad Purple Dragon, Keeper of Heaven's Little Angels
(*hug*), and afpfiancée to Miq the Archangel Michael (*snog*)
The Legendary Planet
>
> On Mon, 17 May 1999, sarah dalrymple wrote:
>
> <snip>
>
> I'm used to the "we will be delayed for some more minutes because
> we'll have to wait for passengers from a late train" sort,
> but last week we were were delayed to wait for the *train driver*
> who was coming with a late train.
> (whoever had driven the train that far)
Yes, I've had to wait for the train driver, on trains which I've
arrived in the station on. I still think the best announcement (not
excuse for delay) was on a long journey, shortly after a staff
changeover (NB: between stations, not while we were stopped) the
announcement "I'm sorry, but the trolley service will not be
available on this train, because one of our colleagues has stolen
the trolley... Hot and cold snacks will still be available from the
Buffet car". What is that about? Some kind of black market
trading in coach F?
Magrathea.
isw...@asmoday-atm.rz.uni-frankfurt.de
On Mon, 17 May 1999, sarah dalrymple wrote:
<snip>
I'm used to the "we will be delayed for some more minutes because
we'll have to wait for passengers from a late train" sort,
but last week we were were delayed to wait for the *train driver*
who was coming with a late train.
(whoever had driven the train that far)
isw.
Sorcha
>
>
> I'm used to the "we will be delayed for some more minutes because
> we'll have to wait for passengers from a late train" sort,
> but last week we were were delayed to wait for the *train driver*
> who was coming with a late train.
> (whoever had driven the train that far)
>
> isw.
That really didn't bode well for the forthcoming journey, did it?
Sorcha
--
'Ach, c'na flitty-flitty! Ye think we're flowers o' the forest fairies?'
- the Nac mac Feegle
isw...@chocolate.amalia-atm.rz.uni-frankfurt.de
>
> isw...@asmoday-atm.rz.uni-frankfurt.de wrote:
> >
> >
> > I'm used to the "we will be delayed for some more minutes because
> > we'll have to wait for passengers from a late train" sort,
> > but last week we were were delayed to wait for the *train driver*
> > who was coming with a late train.
> > (whoever had driven the train that far)
> >
> > isw.
>
> That really didn't bode well for the forthcoming journey, did it?
>
.. though it's not as disturbing as the broadcasting of the train
people's conversation about technical difficulties via the loud-
speaker ...
isw. (if urged to reply remove the choclate)
Paul Andinach
> > That really didn't bode well for the forthcoming journey, did it?
>
> .. though it's not as disturbing as the broadcasting of the train
> people's conversation about technical difficulties via the loud-
> speaker ...
Well, as long as you don't get hit by any falling stars...
Paul
--
"...the hockey mask is so tightly woven into our collective
subconscious as a symbol of psychotic murder that even *hockey
players* don't wear them anymore. Unless, of course, they *want* to
look evil. And leave the back of their heads completely unprotected."
Tom Lawton
<sp...@wasgarey.demon.co.uk> writes
>The Legendary Planet <magr...@geocities.com> wrote:
>
>>isw...@asmoday-atm.rz.uni-frankfurt.de wrote:
>>
>>Yes, I've had to wait for the train driver, on trains which I've
>>arrived in the station on. I still think the best announcement (not
>>excuse for delay) was on a long journey, shortly after a staff
>>changeover (NB: between stations, not while we were stopped) the
>>announcement "I'm sorry, but the trolley service will not be
>>available on this train, because one of our colleagues has stolen
>>the trolley... Hot and cold snacks will still be available from the
>>Buffet car". What is that about? Some kind of black market
>>trading in coach F?
>
>
>final destination. As we were pulling into the station, the guard announced
>on the tannoy
>
>"British Rail [1] would like to apologise for the delay, but this is due to
>the train traveling at a slower speed" [2]
One that a mate of mine told me, about when on the main trans-pennine
express on NYE last year. Travelling towards Dewsbury, the conductor
said " We will soon be arriving in Dewsbury. Which is nice.".
Apparently, he did the same when arriving in Huddersfield too.
TTFN,
--
Tom Lawton
ICQ:21604785
"Death is everywhere. And somewhere he's buying a Chicken Korma"
Kevin Hackett
Tom Lawton wrote in message ...
>
>One that a mate of mine told me, about when on the main trans-pennine
>express on NYE last year. Travelling towards Dewsbury, the conductor
>said " We will soon be arriving in Dewsbury. Which is nice.".
Well, all I can say is he's obviously never got off here ;-)
>Apparently, he did the same when arriving in Huddersfield too.
What did he say when he got to Manchester?
'We will soon be arriving in Manchester. Which is... unavoidable.'
Quick question: I live in Dewsbury, and I'm off to Manchester tomorrow
(checks clock) I mean today. Should I REALLY have said this?
If you don't hear from me, the answer was no.
Cheers,
Kevin
When I told my boss the area I was staying in, he said 'Run. Now.'. Eeep.
Tom Lawton
otribe.freeserve.co.uk> writes
>
>Tom Lawton wrote in message ...
>>
>>One that a mate of mine told me, about when on the main trans-pennine
>>express on NYE last year. Travelling towards Dewsbury, the conductor
>>said " We will soon be arriving in Dewsbury. Which is nice.".
>
>Well, all I can say is he's obviously never got off here ;-)
>
>>Apparently, he did the same when arriving in Huddersfield too.
>
>
>What did he say when he got to Manchester?
Alex Page
>What did he say when he got to Manchester?
>'We will soon be arriving in Manchester. Which is... unavoidable.'
>Quick question: I live in Dewsbury, and I'm off to Manchester tomorrow
>(checks clock) I mean today. Should I REALLY have said this?
>If you don't hear from me, the answer was no.
Damn shame I missed this post earlier, I could have been waiting on
the platform with a baseball bat...
>When I told my boss the area I was staying in, he said 'Run. Now.'. Eeep.
Erm... Longsight? You could always come and crash with me in Moss Side
:)
Alex
--
AFPhousemate of Dooferlad, AFPbitontheside of Naomi *hugs*
MancGoff: http://www.gothicdreams.net/grimoire
Kevin Hackett
Alex Page wrote in message <375551d8....@news.mcc.ac.uk>...
>"Kevin Hackett" <kev...@robotribe.freeserve.co.uk> wrote:
<Warning: snip crossing>
>>Quick question: I live in Dewsbury, and I'm off to Manchester tomorrow
>>(checks clock) I mean today. Should I REALLY have said this?
>
>>If you don't hear from me, the answer was no.
>
>Damn shame I missed this post earlier, I could have been waiting on
>the platform with a baseball bat...
That's okay, you can catch me next time. I'll be the woman in the blue
coat.
>>When I told my boss the area I was staying in, he said 'Run. Now.'.
Eeep.
>
>Erm... Longsight? You could always come and crash with me in Moss Side
>:)
Crash being the operative word? :-)
I have two strong memories of my time in Manchester. One was renting the
cupboard in a shared house in an area that looked really nice, until I found
out that that postcode had been banned from all home insurance policies.
The second was THE best advert I've ever seen, in one of the local papers.
In the middle of the 'Property' pages was a small advert: HOUSE FOR SALE.
Moss Side area. Some fire damage. £800, cash only.
That and a mate of mine having his bike stolen WHILE HE WAS RIDING IT made
me a little nervous. It's culture shock going from a little town with only
petty crime [1] to a big town that's REALLY got the hang of it :-)
First weekend after moving back up here I decided to go back to Manchester
to see what it was like. I was almost immediately groped by a beggar on my
way into town. I was tempted to ask her if she was after a tip. Everything
after that could only be an anti-climax (no pun intended) :-S
You notice I still went back again. She wasn't there this time, though.
And no, I didn't go looking for her! :-)
Cheers,
Kevin
I get the feeling this hasn't helped matters...
[1] Well, okay, and possibly one serial killer
The Masked Orangutan
Kevin Hackett wrote:
The second was THE best advert I've ever seen, in one of the local papers.
> In the middle of the 'Property' pages was a small advert: HOUSE FOR SALE.
> Moss Side area. Some fire damage. £800, cash only.
>
It's not especially funny, but I like the ads for The Heart of Gaia video game
that have shown up in the last couple of Requiems[1]. Since anyone who reads
Requiem already knows about HoG and what it is, ASC Games decided to instead
make the ad as a series of four really cool looking promo posters[2], and even
spent a little extra to make it the centerfold so it comes out easier.
[1]The full title is Requiem: The Official Magazine of the Camarilla[3].
Currently the only way to get it is to be a Camarilla member, in which case it
will be mailed directly to you, but plans are in the works to have them put out
in gaming stores, although it will probably be a while before it happens.
[2]One poster in each of the quarterly issues this year.
[3]<shameless plug>
Just in case I haven't plugged the Cam here yet. The Camarilla is the official
fanclub for White Wolf's World of Darkness games. They run all of the
officially sanctioned games, and currently have more than 4,000 members across 6
continents. Go to your local chapter and have a look at how cool it is, or go
see the official website at www.camarilla.org.
</shameless plug>
--
Mike, afpunrelated to Suzi, All hail the path of the storm turtle!!!!!
>Hi! I'm Signature Virus 99! Copy me into your signature and join the fun!<
AFPcode1.1 ALi-US d--- s---:--- a20 UP+ R+++ F+++ !h t++ P- OSU+++:++
OSD+++:--- C++++ M L*+>++ B+ Cn PT--- Pu62- e+>++ r++++ y++++
Mark A. Cooper
of my journey towards work, I felt that it would be financially advantageous
to buy a monthly season ticket. However, thanks to the guards, advantages of
*any* nature were soon lost...
Various guards were convinced that season tickets couldn't be used until
after 9.30am (which would have been no good to *me*, as I would have been at
work for half an hour), but this was not the case.
One guard was steadfastly unconvinced, and was quite prepared to charge me
the return fare. I argued my point (and in arguments, I usually continue to
do so unless I am proved indisputably incorrect) for the whole of the
three-mile journey to the next station, Thorne North. On arrival at the
station, the guard left his battlecamp located at the side of my seat, got
off the train, walked all the way down the platform to the footbridge, over
it to the other side, and into the ticket office.
A couple of minutes later, I observed him performing his return journey. I
would like to be able, at this point, to describe his walk as a reflection
of his mood, but I cannot - I wasn't that observant. However, with the train
increasingly becoming late, he duly wended his way back to my seat, and
mumbled, "Yes, you *can* use your season ticket before 9.30am"
Revenge is sweet, folks, but not fattening. (Spike Milligna)
Mark
---
Mark A. Cooper
OLF or novella - there's no in-between when I post, dammit...
Jonathan Ellis
Mark A. Cooper wrote in message <3769...@news1.vip.uk.com>...
In my last year at college I had a rather heated argument with a
ticket collector who insisted that my friend pay for an extra seat for
her cello despite the fact that the two of us were the only people in
the carriage - not many people go from Manchester to Doncaster in the
middle of Wednesday afternoons... similarly we had been assured at the
Manchester ticket office that we did not have to buy seats. So...
...the guard demanded a fiver - we refused to pay - the guard
threatened to have us chucked off the train - I took down his name and
number (he was wearing a name and number badge at the time, thank
goodness) and threatened to report him - he said "get off the train now
or pay up" at what turned out to be Edale station, in the middle of
nowhere - we eventually paid just to get rid of him, only to see him
simply pocket the money - we reported the incident at Doncaster and
complained very loudly to the station manager - two weeks later a cheque
arrived in the post for the exact sum of money that we had had to pay,
and a letter of apology with the news that the guard in question "no
longer works for us".
Jonathan.
Mark Adri-Soejoko
--
Mark Adri-Soejoko
Tallish, Darkish, Sort of Handsome?
ma...@adri-soejoko.freeserve.co.uk