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Question: Pulp?
Low pulp - 0 (0%)
Lowest pulp - 4 (100%)
Not high pulp - 0 (0%)
Total Voters: 3

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Author Topic: The New OG Orange Juice Thread  (Read 1294 times)
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Dudd
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« on: May 18, 2014, 01:10:47 PM »

I thoroughly enjoy coral sap.
« Last Edit: May 18, 2014, 01:15:49 PM by Judd » Logged

Quote from: Brian Wilson
Itís going to be the greatest tribute album ever made.
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« Reply #1 on: May 18, 2014, 02:03:23 PM »

One time, I was walking around outside and this guy came up to me and asked if I would like to ride bikes with him. I kindly obliged and we rode off on on our merry way. A few hours later, we stopped at a nearby coffee shop and ordered some drinks. Me being a vegetarian, I asked if I could eat some muffins. The barrista raised his eyebrow at me, but eventually handed them over. I went and sat down at the table, munched on me muffin, and waited for my companion to to take a seat as well. As I was waiting, I continued to eat some muffins. As I continued to wait, I continued to eat some muffins.

More muffins.
More muffins.
More muffins.

He finally took his seat and I asked him how his day had been going. He looked rather glum, so I attempted to cheer him up by offering him one of my muffins. I opened the bag to find that I had in fact eaten all of the muffins I had purchased while waiting for him. I began to wonder what took him so long.

I put down the bag and said "Sorry, I don't have any muffins to give you." This swift sentence had the sole effect of making him even more downcast. He began to stair down at his shoes and mumbled a few strings of incoherent syllables to himself. Not wanting to disturb him, I reached over and had a sip of his coffee. And another. And another. When he finally decided to look up and take part in this wondrous world we're in, he reached for his cup. When his hands met the cup, he titled his head ever so slightly. He picked it up, shook it, and slammed it down. He looked at me and held his gaze.

I decided to slide out of my side and walked outside. As I climbed on top of my bike, I watched him through the window. He was buying another coffee, it seemed. So, I waited. At this point, I really wished I had more muffins to eat while I sat outside waiting for him to conduct his business. After taking quite a bit of time, perhaps he was very picky with his coffee, we climbed back onto our bikes and headed for home. It took us a while to get there, as my friend was rather slow at riding and could hardly go in  a straight line, thanks to one hand being preoccupied with holding coffee.

On approaching my house, his tire hit a curb and the cup was flung from his hand. It hit the grass, the top popped off, and the coffee bled into the grass. He stopped his bike and sorta stared down where the cup laid. I watched him for a moment, and looked at my watch. It was getting rather late for bike riding. I picked up my feet and walked the bike, all the while keeping an eye on him. He didn't seem to move.

At this point, I was rather intrigued by my friend. What was he doing all day? Why is it that he always took so long to do everything? I sat and pondered while he sat and stared. I again looked down at my watch-ed wrist and took note of the time. It was at the point where I should have really been inside, in the vicinity of my cozy, warm walls. I offered for him to come inside, and a few moments later, he looked up at me, shrugged, and clambered through my door.

He sat on the sofa and his head hung out over his right shoulder. I headed for the kitchen to fix us some Mexican turkey chili and peered at him over the counter. I could swear he was counting something on his pants. I called out for him and he labored to raise his head to match my gaze. I asked what he had done prior to swinging by and accompanying me to the coffee shop. Rather than answer, he swung his hands around in a gesture and grunted.

I gave up on tying to dissect his current demeanor and continued on with the cooking. I looked over at him during the proceedings and saw what looked like counting again. I ignored it and turned on the stove. The familiar ticking and the flames popped up, heating the pot full of delicious Mexican turkey chili. I entered the living room and sat down on a nearby chair. I looked to him, and he appeared to be playing a series of thumb wars with himself. After he was done, he put his hands together and shook them, almost congratulating himself on his victory.

I picked up my copy of Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court and began to silently read while my companion indulged in his abstract whims. There came many small noises and quirk, jerky movements out of the corner of my eye, although none of it ever lasted long or consistently enough to focus on. I merely disregarded his spontaneous movements and continued with my reading, no doubt missing a few of these movements in the process.

The timer rang and I pulled myself out of my chair. I looked over at him, and his eyes eagerly met mine. He seemed to be hungry, or perhaps it was something different entirely. I mosied on over to the kitchen where I stopped the cooking flames and grabbed a serving spoon. Reaching into an overhead cupboard, I grabbed two bowls, and then reaching down into a drawer, I grabbed two spoons. I set everything down on the counter and began pouring the soup in. As I was doing this, I could hear some sort of rustling and breathing coming from behind me. Not really keen on looking back, I poured the soup into the bowls and dropped both spoons into their respective receptacles.

We sat down at my meager dining table and started eating. He clearly wasn't in the mood for conversation, so I hopped on over to my turntable and put on one of my favorite arias. As I sat back down, I noticed he was using the spoon incorrectly, using it upside down. I slyly eyed him across the table to watch how this would play out. In an odd feat of balancing, he managed to keep some of the corn and turkey on the spoon, but the soup itself poured right off. This perplexed him.

The doorbell rang and I went to answer it, leaving him alone at the table. It was a neighbor asking if the water bill seemed higher than usual. I shook my head no and noticed he was slightly looking into my house. "I have company over," I told him - as if it concerned him. He looked at me and nodded, a flash of a smile seemed to break over his face and he quickly walked away. I closed the door, did the lock, and made my way back to the table. Upon sitting, I noticed my spoon was missing. I looked at my companion, who was still attempting to use the spoon in the opposite direction, and decided to just grab another one.

Finally sitting back at the table to eat once again, I noticed my companion had finished his meal. He seemed eager to leave and continued to eye the door, or perhaps it was something different entirely. I obliged him and stated that it was late and we should probably part ways. He practically ran towards the door and waited at it, like a dog would. I undid the lock and opened it up, he squeezed himself out as soon as the door opened, like a dog would.

I stared at him as he made his way back to the street, leaving his bike on my lawn. He looked only one way - left - and then ran out into the street. He crossed to the other side, seemed to hop on one foot for a second, and then switched directions and continued to travel very quickly. Where he was going exactly, I was unsure. He really only had traction in the initial direction, I don't think he was familiar with his new, chosen direction. This is when I first noticed he was no longer wearing shoes.

I hesitantly closed and locked the door once again, and proceeded to make my way toward the table. I looked at his chair and noticed that both of the back pockets of his pants had fallen off and remained there. I stopped my forward progress quickly and stared at the seat. I glanced at the table and noticed a shoe directly underneath the center of the wooden table. I grabbed it and noticed a bit of the chili was floating in this shoe. I picked the shoe and the pockets up, and placed them near the front door. I looked for the other shoe, but could find it nowhere.

When I got back to my bowl of chili, I was baffled by the absence of food inside the food receptacle. In its place was a single cuff, perhaps torn off a sleeve. I didn't eat it.

I decided to leave this evening behind, brushed my teeth, and departed into the cool caress of my bed and its various sheets. I soon drifted off into the unfamiliar territory of a dream and remained there for the rest of the night.

In the morning I grabbed the newspaper and boiled some water for to make tea. As I sat down, I flipped to the crossword section and noticed a row of spaces and its accompanying clue was missing. I intended to call their headquarters to request a new paper, but the thought disappeared as I heard the whistle of the water boiling. I poured mixed it with a tea bag and sat down to read. Picking up my book, I noticed it felt lighter - just a tiny, noticeable bit lighter.

I opened the cover and flipped through a few pages, but completely forgot where I was in the book and what had happened so far. I decided to put it down for a while and perhaps start over. I never got around to it.

That was the last time I saw him.
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Dudd
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« Reply #2 on: May 18, 2014, 02:16:04 PM »

well I like mine without bits
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Quote from: Brian Wilson
Itís going to be the greatest tribute album ever made.
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