OMG I Actually Met the FOOL!

[unpredictablebijou]

It's TRUE! In PERSON even. I sat at the same table with him and ate dinner and everything. It was way better than my other brush with greatness, which was sitting at a lunch counter next to Brian Dennehy back in 1985.


All of these things are completely true:

The Fool is actually a hot 22-year-old woman from New Delhi, visiting America on a world tour with her retro dance band, for which she plays the saxophone.


The Fool is in truth a Japanese lumberjack from the Yukon, down here to collect his mail-order bride and buy a new seaplane.


I got shitfaced drunk at dinner on two beers (That's my Navajo name: Two Beers) and made heinous and repetitive passes at the Fool until he finally made me put my clothes back on and shoved me into a taxi, paying the driver to take me out to the airport and leave me there until I sobered up.


We went to a strip club, where we indulged in debaucheries that would have sent the Marquis de Sade to a confessional booth.


We've decided to run off to Paris, get a tiny flat overlooking the Seine, and play Jude the Obscure until one or both of us dies tragically from consumption and the other gets to publish all the poetry and get rich.


*still swooning*

bj

 

[Angeline]

It's TRUE! In PERSON even. I sat at the same table with him and ate dinner and everything. It was way better than my other brush with greatness, which was sitting at a lunch counter next to Brian Dennehy back in 1985.


All of these things are completely true:

The Fool is actually a hot 22-year-old woman from New Delhi, visiting America on a world tour with her retro dance band, for which she plays the saxophone.


The Fool is in truth a Japanese lumberjack from the Yukon, down here to collect his mail-order bride and buy a new seaplane.


I got shitfaced drunk at dinner on two beers (That's my Navajo name: Two Beers) and made heinous and repetitive passes at the Fool until he finally made me put my clothes back on and shoved me into a taxi, paying the driver to take me out to the airport and leave me there until I sobered up.


We went to a strip club, where we indulged in debaucheries that would have sent the Marquis de Sade to a confessional booth.


We've decided to run off to Paris, get a tiny flat overlooking the Seine, and play Jude the Obscure until one or both of us dies tragically from consumption and the other gets to publish all the poetry and get rich.

*still swooning*

bj

I like this one. I once played Tess (of the D'Urbervilles) and Angel Clare with a similarly nutty pal in a chat room to a digital group of hmmm illiterates, I suppose. They did not appreciate the literary nuances of our game.

I also used to hang out in chat here with a guy who referred to himself as "Cheeses of Nazareth."

Were any of the people Foolio? I'll never tell.

 

[The_Fool]

So I walked into the shop to be met by a near sensory overload of sensations. Incense burning the evening into night. Lights cast about, revealing the glitter of treasures displayed and not. As the earth’s jewelry cascaded from table to table, the sounds of an Indian Aria added dimension to the space overseen by the painting of a Hindi Goddess or Madonna, I never learned which, offering nourishment from her breasts or pleasure-peace-renewal of her sex. The two owners of the shop were more reticent than the human they owned, who offered smiles and an embrace. All three were serene and composed; movement a flow from place to place. She offered a paradoxical juxtaposition similar to the shop owners, yellow and black. On one hand she offered exposure, drawing back the hem of her dress, green, unbuttoned to the waist, clearly offering access to her inner feelings. Yet beneath the dress were jeans meant to flaunt the curves they also hid from sight. One could become quickly overwhelmed. From the sensations all around. Stones smooth to the touch. Crystals offering a glow of their inner secrets. Oils meant to be unleashed to murmur on sensuous skin. It made me wonder if this shop were in this world or in another, clearly different from my own. But then my host brought my eyes into focus through her own and showed me the world as she sees it, slightly from the side, but with a much wider view. Or perhaps it was centered and what I had seen before was askew. As she danced in time to the new age music, in an old age store with an ageless dance of grace. And we embraced each other with smiles and words and arms. Until time had run its course for just that evening. Until the next evening comes when we can share time and more Guinness poured just so.

 

[The_Fool]

I hear Paris is wonderful in the spring...

 

[unpredictablebijou]

*genuinely speechless*

 

[The_Fool]

I don't think I made you put your clothes back on either.

 

[unpredictablebijou]

I don't think I made you put your clothes back on either.

*uncharacteristic giggling*

Not true, he BEGGED me to get dressed. "You're ruining these nice people's dinner" he said.

and since I'll be busted anyway eventually, I may as well confess. I'm actually an 86 year old woman who wears white Keds and sweater vests with holiday-themed appliques on them. I'm 5'1" but I have really tall hair. I work at a telemarketing firm selling upgrades to vehicle warrantees, and I have forty-eight cats.

No that's a lie too. I' actually a 6'3", 280 pound native of South Africa, and my name is Eddie.

I'm really an expatriate from Budapest, from a poor but noble family whose ancestor lost our small fortune in the Great Olive Famine of 1865.

Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.

bj

 

[The_Fool]

Not true. She was never undressed. I begged her to undress but she wouldn't. Okay, I was just trying to get her to take off that heavy winter coat to see if she had boobs.

 

[unpredictablebijou]

Not true. She was never undressed. I begged her to undress but she wouldn't. Okay, I was just trying to get her to take off that heavy winter coat to see if she had boobs.

LOL!

nope.

 

[Eluard]

LOL!

nope.

*Eluard considers suicide options*

 

[unpredictablebijou]

*Eluard considers suicide options*

This deserves better than lolspeak.

*truly, actually, falling off my chair laughing, and applauding*

Comfort ye, sugar. I have them.

They're rare, perfect miniatures. Just like the real thing only smaller.

bj

 

[The_Fool]

Do I tell the truth or do I lie? If I told the truth how would they new it was not a lie?


Did I mention that she had chains hanging from the ceiling? I didn't test them for weight though. At one point she did offer me her wrists for view. Binding them at that point could have been an option.

She does have nails. Just enough that on the right person, would leave nice long red welts down the back.

 

[Eluard]

This deserves better than lolspeak.

*truly, actually, falling off my chair laughing, and applauding*

Comfort ye, sugar. I have them.

They're rare, perfect miniatures. Just like the real thing only smaller.

bj

Made by Franklin Mint?

 

[unpredictablebijou]

Do I tell the truth or do I lie? If I told the truth how would they new it was not a lie?


Did I mention that she had chains hanging from the ceiling? I didn't test them for weight though. At one point she did offer me her wrists for view. Binding them at that point could have been an option.

She does have nails. Just enough that on the right person, would leave nice long red welts down the back.

*cracking up*

some of this is actually true but I'm not saying which parts.

And to answer your question... no one will ever know for sure. It could all be a huge conspiracy by the Oval.

Made by Franklin Mint?

Just four easy installments of $49.99. Apiece.

 

[Eluard]

Just four easy installments of $49.99. Apiece.

dammit, I could get four unicorns for that much!!

 

[unpredictablebijou]

dammit, I could get four unicorns for that much!!

*coffee fu*

but only three beanie babies.

My nickname is Hummel.
oh wait no. That's spelled wrong.


You people have got to quit being so hilarious and preoccupying. I'm about to miss dinner, since they're going to close the kitchen next door in about ten minutes.

adoration and gratitude,
bj

 

[Eluard]

I think for nearly 400 bucks you should throw in an extra breast — three in all.

 

[RhymeSmith]

Do I tell the truth or do I lie? If I told the truth how would they new it was not a lie?

According to the *original* tale of "The Emporer's New Clothes," The Fool always tells the truth. This is a known fact, because he isn't wise enough to lie when he should.

Maybe.

 

[The_Fool]

According to the *original* tale of "The Emporer's New Clothes," The Fool always tells the truth. This is a known fact, because he isn't wise enough to lie when he should.

Maybe.

There is "THE TRUTH" and then there is truth.

Thinking of Unicorns and bunnies...

I think I prefer breasts in pairs....Although with three, two hands, one mouth. I wonder if I am ambidextrous?

 

[unpredictablebijou]

There is "THE TRUTH" and then there is truth.

Thinking of Unicorns and bunnies...

I think I prefer breasts in pairs....Although with three, two hands, one mouth. I wonder if I am ambidextrous?

You may be ambi-something, anyway.

I think more of Lear's Fool. That's why I believe Cordelia is your alt.

k now I'm really gone. For the moment.

bj

 

[The_Fool]

You may be ambi-something, anyway.

I think more of Lear's Fool. That's why I believe Cordelia is your alt.

k now I'm really gone. For the moment.

bj

Nope. No alts for me. Cordelia is a real person and I love her.

 

[unpredictablebijou]

Nope. No alts for me. Cordelia is a real person and I love her.

Not buying it. I wrote a whole research paper in my first Shakespeare class in high school, wayyyyy back in the stone age, about how the Fool is Cordelia's alt, although we didn't have the term alt back then.

Here's how long ago it was. I wrote that paper on a typewriter.

No insult meant to the lovely Cordelia who doesn't know me from Adam.

Course, Adam is my alt too...

*off to acquire more coffee so I can think straight*

bj