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Aug. 3rd, 2003
"Shouldn't that be in his stomach?"
Aug. 3rd, 2003 09:40 amFriday night, we had a great dinner at Chan Darette (mmm, and there's more in the fridge), though I think the meal we had at Chan Dara in Hollywood was better. After we got home, in order to prepare for the live game, we watched the Third Man while Rebecca put curlers in my hair -- or rather, she put curlers in her long blond wig that I was wearing.
Next day, we jetted down to Jason's parents' place in Dana Point. Jason and his brother Alex (and their oh-so-cool parents) were there and a gaggle of their friends. Jason indulged his manly right to incinerate animal flesh -- quite literally in this case since a chicken thigh eluded him and cremated itself on the coals. Plenty of good food, good margaritas, good conversation and good times.
Alex & his cohorts clued us in on one of their in-jokes, which I can't give justice except to say that they were prank-calling a friend, making up a story of a mysterious incident in which his roommate had been involved. First as a policeman, then a hospital staff and so on, always being vague about the nature of the injuries. Everyone's drunk and it's probably not making much sense, but the confusion just adds to the agitation of the guy getting pranked. Finally, one of the prankers gets a bit more explicit:
"We found, um, unexpectedly, a, um, biological substance."
"WTF are you talkin about? What do you mean, biological substance?"
"Well, we found two, um, cubic centimeters of semen in his lungs."
To which the agitated and drunk guy responded (quite logically, I think) with the subject line of this entry. And thus, a very strange in-joke was born.
After regretfully taking our leave, we dashed our way back up the 5 and 405 to home, where we chowed down, dressed in our finest and made our way to Ray's for his live game, set in Post-war Vienna. I was Major Calloway of the British Military Police in the city. I was just there to thwart crime. Not too many people were willing to talk to a cop about their own crimes, but quite a few were willing to talk about other people. So I kept adding to a list of people to arrest. One of the many Nazis there that evening was a prominent scientist, but it seemed that the various Allied intelligence forces were interested in seeing him spirited away rather than arrested. Young Commander Bond didn't seem to do very well for British intellignce, buying fake documents and letting the Americans have the scientist, but I enjoyed chatting and plotting with my soon-to-be famous British colleague.
The reason all these people were gathered together was to witness a chess game between an American and Russian Grandmaster. The paranoid American player had come to me complaining of attempts on his life, and then several other people told me much the same, adding credibility to the story. So particularly during the second half of the match, I stationed myself close to the board so that no monkey business could occur. Turns out that there really wasn't any plotted attempt on his life at all, but it was certainly a Macguffin that kept me on edge as I attempted to work on other things, while 'knowing' that there was an assassination attempt brewing.
Anyway, it looks like Major Calloway will round up a couple Nazis (those that aren't scooped up by the various spy networks) and it sounds as if Metzger (the little Nazi ball of hate) may even be able to provide a lead on those forged documents that have become so common in Vienna these days.
All right... it's 13 days to the first session of Miskatonic University, so I better get to work.
Next day, we jetted down to Jason's parents' place in Dana Point. Jason and his brother Alex (and their oh-so-cool parents) were there and a gaggle of their friends. Jason indulged his manly right to incinerate animal flesh -- quite literally in this case since a chicken thigh eluded him and cremated itself on the coals. Plenty of good food, good margaritas, good conversation and good times.
Alex & his cohorts clued us in on one of their in-jokes, which I can't give justice except to say that they were prank-calling a friend, making up a story of a mysterious incident in which his roommate had been involved. First as a policeman, then a hospital staff and so on, always being vague about the nature of the injuries. Everyone's drunk and it's probably not making much sense, but the confusion just adds to the agitation of the guy getting pranked. Finally, one of the prankers gets a bit more explicit:
"We found, um, unexpectedly, a, um, biological substance."
"WTF are you talkin about? What do you mean, biological substance?"
"Well, we found two, um, cubic centimeters of semen in his lungs."
To which the agitated and drunk guy responded (quite logically, I think) with the subject line of this entry. And thus, a very strange in-joke was born.
After regretfully taking our leave, we dashed our way back up the 5 and 405 to home, where we chowed down, dressed in our finest and made our way to Ray's for his live game, set in Post-war Vienna. I was Major Calloway of the British Military Police in the city. I was just there to thwart crime. Not too many people were willing to talk to a cop about their own crimes, but quite a few were willing to talk about other people. So I kept adding to a list of people to arrest. One of the many Nazis there that evening was a prominent scientist, but it seemed that the various Allied intelligence forces were interested in seeing him spirited away rather than arrested. Young Commander Bond didn't seem to do very well for British intellignce, buying fake documents and letting the Americans have the scientist, but I enjoyed chatting and plotting with my soon-to-be famous British colleague.
The reason all these people were gathered together was to witness a chess game between an American and Russian Grandmaster. The paranoid American player had come to me complaining of attempts on his life, and then several other people told me much the same, adding credibility to the story. So particularly during the second half of the match, I stationed myself close to the board so that no monkey business could occur. Turns out that there really wasn't any plotted attempt on his life at all, but it was certainly a Macguffin that kept me on edge as I attempted to work on other things, while 'knowing' that there was an assassination attempt brewing.
Anyway, it looks like Major Calloway will round up a couple Nazis (those that aren't scooped up by the various spy networks) and it sounds as if Metzger (the little Nazi ball of hate) may even be able to provide a lead on those forged documents that have become so common in Vienna these days.
All right... it's 13 days to the first session of Miskatonic University, so I better get to work.