Frightinary.
Are you sure this is the right document? Say again. Can't make you out, Tiny - speak louder. Then move closer to the telephone poll, that might help. Tiny? Arrrggh. Bad luck.
We've just lost Tiny Montgomery again. His carrier just dropped the call. By "carrier," I mean the phone line tap he rigged up outside of his six-room lean-to in Madagascar. (That's how he makes all of his calls, apparently.) Tiny's been helping us pull together our next interstellar tour. He sent through the itinerary by primitive fax, and man... it's scary as hell. Perhaps it's a communications issue. You know - hard to get ahold of the better venues, especially when you're using the modern equivalent of soupcans and string to make your calls. I get that. Tiny has his issues, and we have ours... and mothers, this itinerary is one of 'em.
Matt and some of the other members of our crew have suggested there are more nefarious factors at work in this whole thing. Tiny, some of you will remember, played Lowery organ on our 2001 interstellar tour (see the tour log) and actually did some booking on our 2003 tour. He may be sore that we haven't kept in touch with him over all these eight odd years (and they have been odd years). Or maybe the way we treated him back in the day. What man can say? Personally, I just think it's
the result of the garden variety entropy that affects all of us eventually. Everyone as time went on got a little bit older and a little bit slower. And now that I've quoted Revolution #9, I can see the ice cream man cruising by. Happens nearly every time. There's a reason for everything.
Anyway, the itinerary. It mostly concentrates on dry alien moons. There's the famous "whistling" moon in orbit around Aldebaran 4. (Heard of it? There are so many holes in it, it whistles as it orbits. True story.) Then there's that craggy little satellite circling Mars - Deimos. Not much to speak of - a slab of stone. That's the gig. Set up, fram to the nothingness, pack up, fly off. What the hell is the point, mo-fo's? Then there's an abandoned neutron star. That sounds like one for the books.
I'm writing back to Tiny as we speak. Writing as you blog? That's called multi tasking, with the help of Marvin (my personal robot assistant). Demanding some clarification, hopefully by phone.
We've just lost Tiny Montgomery again. His carrier just dropped the call. By "carrier," I mean the phone line tap he rigged up outside of his six-room lean-to in Madagascar. (That's how he makes all of his calls, apparently.) Tiny's been helping us pull together our next interstellar tour. He sent through the itinerary by primitive fax, and man... it's scary as hell. Perhaps it's a communications issue. You know - hard to get ahold of the better venues, especially when you're using the modern equivalent of soupcans and string to make your calls. I get that. Tiny has his issues, and we have ours... and mothers, this itinerary is one of 'em.Matt and some of the other members of our crew have suggested there are more nefarious factors at work in this whole thing. Tiny, some of you will remember, played Lowery organ on our 2001 interstellar tour (see the tour log) and actually did some booking on our 2003 tour. He may be sore that we haven't kept in touch with him over all these eight odd years (and they have been odd years). Or maybe the way we treated him back in the day. What man can say? Personally, I just think it's
the result of the garden variety entropy that affects all of us eventually. Everyone as time went on got a little bit older and a little bit slower. And now that I've quoted Revolution #9, I can see the ice cream man cruising by. Happens nearly every time. There's a reason for everything. Anyway, the itinerary. It mostly concentrates on dry alien moons. There's the famous "whistling" moon in orbit around Aldebaran 4. (Heard of it? There are so many holes in it, it whistles as it orbits. True story.) Then there's that craggy little satellite circling Mars - Deimos. Not much to speak of - a slab of stone. That's the gig. Set up, fram to the nothingness, pack up, fly off. What the hell is the point, mo-fo's? Then there's an abandoned neutron star. That sounds like one for the books.
I'm writing back to Tiny as we speak. Writing as you blog? That's called multi tasking, with the help of Marvin (my personal robot assistant). Demanding some clarification, hopefully by phone.
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