Post by quasi on Jul 3, 2011 10:18:18 GMT -5
So, yeah, I was bored and needed to get my muse going. So what do I do? I start listening to Rent in my just my pants (Underwear, for those not hip with Brit Lingo. Keep up loves. 
<--Pretentious) and a tee shirt, bouncing around like a ferret who just downed a redbull, that's what! And I got to La Vie Boheme, and holy shit I had an epiphany.
So yeah, MOLLY: SHOULD NEVER BE BORED EVER!
Blame my x-box getting the dreaded redring.
Anyway, just so I can get this out of the way: Crude language happens. Don't read it if your all sensitive.
Anywho, an idea that has been getting kicked around is that Julius fortescue, our resident Frollo, is going to go on a crusade against the homeless. What. A. Dick. Anyway, in this scene is: Max Petulengro, Aisha Nuri, Alex Fortescue, Julius Fortescue, Amy Winston, Kevin Way, Guillermo Salas-Ortiz, Rose Mercer (Pregnant!), Jeny Salas-Ortiz, Seth Foxworth, Mallory Torres, Nicky Reily, Peter Zimmerman, annnnnd that's it. Why are they hanging out? Because, minus Julius, they are all awesome and awesome people flock together. Hence why there is so much awesome on this site. Awesome magnets.
Enjoy.
*Everyone but Julius-Butthole-face-Fortescue is chillin in a restaurant. Yeah.*
J.F.: *enters*
M.P.: Well, well, well. The most beloved man in New York decided to make an appearance. *arm around A.F., grinning all cool guy like* To what do we owe this pleasure?
*awkward silence*
J.F.: *chuckles all douchily, WHADDUP RANDOM BREAK OUT IN SONG! Approaches table.* You make fun, yet I'm the one, attempting to do some good. Or do you really want a neighborhood, where people piss on your stoop every night? Bohemia, Bohemia, is a fantasy in your head.... this is Brooklyn. Bohemia is dead. *goes to his table*
M.P.: *struts behind him mockingly*
Everyone else: *gigglechuckle*
M.P.: Dearly beloved we gather here to say our goodbyes..
G.S. & S.F.: *offers assist and for some reason knows latin. accept it for the sake of awesome.* Dies irae -- dies illa. Kyrie eleison. Yitgadal v' yitkadash, etc.
M.P. Here she lies! *assists Aisha up, motions at her like a Price is Right Girl* No one knew her worth! The late great daughter of... Mother Earth! *snugs* On these nights, where we celebrate the birth.... *hops up on table, dreamy face* In that little town of Bethlehem! *picks up glass* We raise our glass, you bet your ass toooooo... *chugs glass, woooting happens* La Vie Boheme!
All: La vie Boheme. *clap* La vie Boheme. *clap* La vie Boheme. *clap* La vie Boheme
M.P.: To days of inspiration. Playing hookie, making something out of nothing. The need to express -- To communicate, To going against the grain, Going insane, Going mad!
N.R.: To loving tension, no pension, To more than one dimension, To starving for attention, Hating convention, hating pretension, Not to mention of course, Hating dear old mom and dad.
K.W.: To riding your bike, Midday past the three piece suits. To fruits -- to no absolutes -- To Absolut -- to choice -- To the Village Voice -- To any passing fad! *one arm snug Amy* To being an us for once! Instead of a them!
All: La vie Boheme, La vie Boheme.
*Oddly seeming choreographed dancing ensues*
M.T. & J.S.: *Making with the flirty eyes as ladies will do*
S.F.: OoO *wank material check*
G.S.: Ew... -_-
J.F.:
M.T.: Hey Mister? She's my sister. *pelvic thrust, laughter*
Waiter: So that's five miso soup, four seaweed salad, Three soy burger dinner, two tofu dog platter, And one pasta with meatless balls.
A.F.: Ew.
M.P.: It tastes the same....
A.N.: If you close your eyes...
Waiter: And thirteen orders of fries! Is that it here?
All: WINE AND BEER!
R.M. & A.N: To hand-crafted beers made in local breweries. To yoga, to yogurt, to rice and beans and cheese. To leather, to dildos, to curry vindaloo. To huevos rancheros and Maya Angelou.
J.S. & M.T.: Emotion, devotion, to causing a commotion. Creation, vacation.
M.P. *looks at Julius, points to the ladies, shrugs like 'It cannot be helped'* Mucho Masturbation...
A.N. & J.S.: Compassion, to fashion, to passion when it's new!
N.R.: To Sontag.
A.F.: To Sondheim.
A.W. & K.W. & S.F. & J.S.: To anything taboo!
S.F. & G.S.: Ginsberg, Dylan, Cunningham and Cage
G.S.: Lenny Bruce
S.F.: Langston Hughes
(Above: I know it was clever because Langston Hughs was Black and Collin's was pointing to a white guy, and vice versa for Rodger. Bare with me here, we're going with: It's clever because these too don't strike people as the literary sort... carry on.)
J.S.: To the stage!!!
A.F.: To Uta!
P.Z.: To Buddha!
R.M.: Pablo Neruda, too...
M.T. & S.F.: Why Dorthy and Toto, went over the rainbow *flips off Julius* TO BLOW OFF AUNTIE EM! (just a little commentary: Does anyone else see Dorthy in Mallory's mind going "That is most certainly not why I went over the rainbow...")
All: La vie Boheme...
J.S. & M.T.: *winks at Seth, pecksmooch*
S.F.: *faints*
G.S.: Quit that... -_-
J.F. *appalled* Sisters?
J.S. & M.T.: We're close.
M.P. & A.F.: *smooch* BROTHERS! *laughs*
J.F.:
All: *adoring Julius's epic discomfort because is douche* Bisexuals, trisexuals, homo sapiens, Carcinogens, hallucinogens, men, Pee Wee Herman, German wine, turpentine, Gertrude Stein, Antonioni, Bertolucci, Kurosawa, Carmina Burana. *lughter. continues* To apathy, to entropy, to empathy, ecstasy, Vaclav Havel -- The Sex Pistols, 8BC, To no shame -- never playing the Fame Game!
Darius Harrisburg: *was walking outsid, bursts in the door* TO MARIJUANA! *is stares at* >.> <.< ..... *leaves*
M.P.: *laughs, shrugs*
M.P. & A.F. (+ miscellaneous others): To Sodomy, It's between God and Me! *Max smooches Alex's cheek*
All: To S&M!
J.F.: *can't handle this anymore* WAITER WAITER! *flee like a bitch*
M.P.: In honor of the death of Bohemia an impromptu salon will commence immediately following dinner... Aisha Nuri, clad only in bubble wrap, will perform her famous lawn chair-handcuff dance to the sounds of iced tea being stirred...
A.N.: Peter Zimmerman will preview his new documentary about his inability to hold an erection on high holy days...
P.Z.: -_- *mumbles* Like you would know...
S.F.: *twirls Jeny* Jenyfer Salas-Ortiz, back from her spectacular one-night engagement at J. Barrie's drama club, Will sing native american tribal chants backwards through her vocoder, While accompanying herself on the electric cello -- Which she has never studied.
J.S.: *curtsy*
M.T.: And nicky will attempt to write a bittersweet, evocative song. *Nicky starts to play musetta's waltz*
G.S. *pats him on the back* That doesn't remind us of "Musetta's Waltz"
N.R.: .... shit. *fiddles with guitar*
G.S.: Mallory Marie Torres will now model the latest fall fashions from Paris
While accompanying herself on the 10 gallon plastic pickle tub...
A.F.: And Max will recount his exploits as an anarchist -- Including the successful reprogramming of the M.I.T. virtual reality equipment. To self-destruct, as it broadcast the words:
All: "Actual reality -- Act Up -- Fight AIDS"
R.M. *storming off at G.S. not paying her any mind*
G.S.: o.O *follows*
R.M.: Excuse me did I do something wrong? I get invited, than ignored all night long! *puts on coat*
G.S.: I've been trying -- I'm not lying! No one's perfect. I've got baggage!
R.M.: *flustered* Life's too short, babe, time is flying! I'm looking for baggage that goes with mine! *phone alarm goes off, Rose pulls out prenatal vits, takes one*
G.S.: *takes bottle, inspects, awe face* Your-?
R.M.: Yeah.
G.S.: Mine?
R.M.: Yep yep.
G.S.: OoO .... Rose.... *epic smooch time*
All: *wooting and such*
S.F.: About time!
M.T.: Yay! *claps*
A.N.: No way to make a living, masochism, pain, perfection! Muscle spasms, chiropractors, short careers, eating disorders!
All: FILM!
A.F.: Adventure, tedium, no family, boring locations, Dark rooms, perfect faces, egos, money, Hollywood and sleaze!
All: MUSIC!
M.P.: Food of love, emotion, mathematics, isolation, Rhythm, feeling, power, harmony, and heavy competition!
All: ANARCHY!
Truands.: Revolution, justice, screaming for solutions, Forcing changes, risk, and danger, Making noise and making pleas!
A.W.: To me!
J.S.: To me!
S.F. & M.T.: To me!
All: To you, and you and you, you and you. To people living with, living with, living with, 'Not dying from' disease. Let he among us without sin -- Be the first to condemn! La vie Boheme, La vie Boheme, La vie Boheme!
M.P.: Anyone out of the mainstream is anyone in the mainstream? Anyone alive--with a sex drive? Tear down the wall, Aren't we all? The opposite of war isn't peace...
S.F.: What is it?
M.P.: It's creation!
G.S.: Hell yeah!
All: La vie Boheme
*Everyone kisses who there suppose to kiss, people without people to kiss are just having a good time*
All: VIVA LA VIE BOHEME!
Like I said: MOLLY SHOULD NEVER BE BORED EVER! Anyway, yeah.
<--Pretentious) and a tee shirt, bouncing around like a ferret who just downed a redbull, that's what! And I got to La Vie Boheme, and holy shit I had an epiphany. So yeah, MOLLY: SHOULD NEVER BE BORED EVER!
Blame my x-box getting the dreaded redring.
Anyway, just so I can get this out of the way: Crude language happens. Don't read it if your all sensitive.
Anywho, an idea that has been getting kicked around is that Julius fortescue, our resident Frollo, is going to go on a crusade against the homeless. What. A. Dick. Anyway, in this scene is: Max Petulengro, Aisha Nuri, Alex Fortescue, Julius Fortescue, Amy Winston, Kevin Way, Guillermo Salas-Ortiz, Rose Mercer (Pregnant!), Jeny Salas-Ortiz, Seth Foxworth, Mallory Torres, Nicky Reily, Peter Zimmerman, annnnnd that's it. Why are they hanging out? Because, minus Julius, they are all awesome and awesome people flock together. Hence why there is so much awesome on this site. Awesome magnets.
Enjoy.
*Everyone but Julius-Butthole-face-Fortescue is chillin in a restaurant. Yeah.*
J.F.: *enters*
M.P.: Well, well, well. The most beloved man in New York decided to make an appearance. *arm around A.F., grinning all cool guy like* To what do we owe this pleasure?
*awkward silence*
J.F.: *chuckles all douchily, WHADDUP RANDOM BREAK OUT IN SONG! Approaches table.* You make fun, yet I'm the one, attempting to do some good. Or do you really want a neighborhood, where people piss on your stoop every night? Bohemia, Bohemia, is a fantasy in your head.... this is Brooklyn. Bohemia is dead. *goes to his table*
M.P.: *struts behind him mockingly*
Everyone else: *gigglechuckle*
M.P.: Dearly beloved we gather here to say our goodbyes..
G.S. & S.F.: *offers assist and for some reason knows latin. accept it for the sake of awesome.* Dies irae -- dies illa. Kyrie eleison. Yitgadal v' yitkadash, etc.
M.P. Here she lies! *assists Aisha up, motions at her like a Price is Right Girl* No one knew her worth! The late great daughter of... Mother Earth! *snugs* On these nights, where we celebrate the birth.... *hops up on table, dreamy face* In that little town of Bethlehem! *picks up glass* We raise our glass, you bet your ass toooooo... *chugs glass, woooting happens* La Vie Boheme!
All: La vie Boheme. *clap* La vie Boheme. *clap* La vie Boheme. *clap* La vie Boheme
M.P.: To days of inspiration. Playing hookie, making something out of nothing. The need to express -- To communicate, To going against the grain, Going insane, Going mad!
N.R.: To loving tension, no pension, To more than one dimension, To starving for attention, Hating convention, hating pretension, Not to mention of course, Hating dear old mom and dad.
K.W.: To riding your bike, Midday past the three piece suits. To fruits -- to no absolutes -- To Absolut -- to choice -- To the Village Voice -- To any passing fad! *one arm snug Amy* To being an us for once! Instead of a them!
All: La vie Boheme, La vie Boheme.
*Oddly seeming choreographed dancing ensues*
M.T. & J.S.: *Making with the flirty eyes as ladies will do*
S.F.: OoO *wank material check*
G.S.: Ew... -_-
J.F.:
M.T.: Hey Mister? She's my sister. *pelvic thrust, laughter*
Waiter: So that's five miso soup, four seaweed salad, Three soy burger dinner, two tofu dog platter, And one pasta with meatless balls.
A.F.: Ew.
M.P.: It tastes the same....
A.N.: If you close your eyes...
Waiter: And thirteen orders of fries! Is that it here?
All: WINE AND BEER!
R.M. & A.N: To hand-crafted beers made in local breweries. To yoga, to yogurt, to rice and beans and cheese. To leather, to dildos, to curry vindaloo. To huevos rancheros and Maya Angelou.
J.S. & M.T.: Emotion, devotion, to causing a commotion. Creation, vacation.
M.P. *looks at Julius, points to the ladies, shrugs like 'It cannot be helped'* Mucho Masturbation...
A.N. & J.S.: Compassion, to fashion, to passion when it's new!
N.R.: To Sontag.
A.F.: To Sondheim.
A.W. & K.W. & S.F. & J.S.: To anything taboo!
S.F. & G.S.: Ginsberg, Dylan, Cunningham and Cage
G.S.: Lenny Bruce
S.F.: Langston Hughes
(Above: I know it was clever because Langston Hughs was Black and Collin's was pointing to a white guy, and vice versa for Rodger. Bare with me here, we're going with: It's clever because these too don't strike people as the literary sort... carry on.)
J.S.: To the stage!!!
A.F.: To Uta!
P.Z.: To Buddha!
R.M.: Pablo Neruda, too...
M.T. & S.F.: Why Dorthy and Toto, went over the rainbow *flips off Julius* TO BLOW OFF AUNTIE EM! (just a little commentary: Does anyone else see Dorthy in Mallory's mind going "That is most certainly not why I went over the rainbow...")
All: La vie Boheme...
J.S. & M.T.: *winks at Seth, pecksmooch*
S.F.: *faints*
G.S.: Quit that... -_-
J.F. *appalled* Sisters?
J.S. & M.T.: We're close.
M.P. & A.F.: *smooch* BROTHERS! *laughs*
J.F.:
All: *adoring Julius's epic discomfort because is douche* Bisexuals, trisexuals, homo sapiens, Carcinogens, hallucinogens, men, Pee Wee Herman, German wine, turpentine, Gertrude Stein, Antonioni, Bertolucci, Kurosawa, Carmina Burana. *lughter. continues* To apathy, to entropy, to empathy, ecstasy, Vaclav Havel -- The Sex Pistols, 8BC, To no shame -- never playing the Fame Game!
Darius Harrisburg: *was walking outsid, bursts in the door* TO MARIJUANA! *is stares at* >.> <.< ..... *leaves*
M.P.: *laughs, shrugs*
M.P. & A.F. (+ miscellaneous others): To Sodomy, It's between God and Me! *Max smooches Alex's cheek*
All: To S&M!
J.F.: *can't handle this anymore* WAITER WAITER! *flee like a bitch*
M.P.: In honor of the death of Bohemia an impromptu salon will commence immediately following dinner... Aisha Nuri, clad only in bubble wrap, will perform her famous lawn chair-handcuff dance to the sounds of iced tea being stirred...
A.N.: Peter Zimmerman will preview his new documentary about his inability to hold an erection on high holy days...
P.Z.: -_- *mumbles* Like you would know...
S.F.: *twirls Jeny* Jenyfer Salas-Ortiz, back from her spectacular one-night engagement at J. Barrie's drama club, Will sing native american tribal chants backwards through her vocoder, While accompanying herself on the electric cello -- Which she has never studied.
J.S.: *curtsy*
M.T.: And nicky will attempt to write a bittersweet, evocative song. *Nicky starts to play musetta's waltz*
G.S. *pats him on the back* That doesn't remind us of "Musetta's Waltz"
N.R.: .... shit. *fiddles with guitar*
G.S.: Mallory Marie Torres will now model the latest fall fashions from Paris
While accompanying herself on the 10 gallon plastic pickle tub...
A.F.: And Max will recount his exploits as an anarchist -- Including the successful reprogramming of the M.I.T. virtual reality equipment. To self-destruct, as it broadcast the words:
All: "Actual reality -- Act Up -- Fight AIDS"
R.M. *storming off at G.S. not paying her any mind*
G.S.: o.O *follows*
R.M.: Excuse me did I do something wrong? I get invited, than ignored all night long! *puts on coat*
G.S.: I've been trying -- I'm not lying! No one's perfect. I've got baggage!
R.M.: *flustered* Life's too short, babe, time is flying! I'm looking for baggage that goes with mine! *phone alarm goes off, Rose pulls out prenatal vits, takes one*
G.S.: *takes bottle, inspects, awe face* Your-?
R.M.: Yeah.
G.S.: Mine?
R.M.: Yep yep.
G.S.: OoO .... Rose.... *epic smooch time*
All: *wooting and such*
S.F.: About time!
M.T.: Yay! *claps*
A.N.: No way to make a living, masochism, pain, perfection! Muscle spasms, chiropractors, short careers, eating disorders!
All: FILM!
A.F.: Adventure, tedium, no family, boring locations, Dark rooms, perfect faces, egos, money, Hollywood and sleaze!
All: MUSIC!
M.P.: Food of love, emotion, mathematics, isolation, Rhythm, feeling, power, harmony, and heavy competition!
All: ANARCHY!
Truands.: Revolution, justice, screaming for solutions, Forcing changes, risk, and danger, Making noise and making pleas!
A.W.: To me!
J.S.: To me!
S.F. & M.T.: To me!
All: To you, and you and you, you and you. To people living with, living with, living with, 'Not dying from' disease. Let he among us without sin -- Be the first to condemn! La vie Boheme, La vie Boheme, La vie Boheme!
M.P.: Anyone out of the mainstream is anyone in the mainstream? Anyone alive--with a sex drive? Tear down the wall, Aren't we all? The opposite of war isn't peace...
S.F.: What is it?
M.P.: It's creation!
G.S.: Hell yeah!
All: La vie Boheme
*Everyone kisses who there suppose to kiss, people without people to kiss are just having a good time*
All: VIVA LA VIE BOHEME!
Like I said: MOLLY SHOULD NEVER BE BORED EVER! Anyway, yeah.
