Paragon Adrift[D]ecadence, or to be still more accurate, of intellectual ruin.
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Original: 11/14/2007 8:20 PM
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Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Bar, this is Kamikaze

 The Misadventures of Andy Fennelberg

Like any other Wednesday afternoon, Andy set off from his flat in midtown to his favorite spot for a drink. He'd order a pint of Adams and sit around waiting for his buds to arrive and chat. Most of his friends worked until early evening so he spent a great deal of time waiting on nobody in particular until 6 or 7 o'clock. He didn't mind this, being alone was comfortable and enjoyable sometimes, and even then he always had the company of The Who to move him into rhythmic thought and introspection, and occasionally, deep remorse and drunken rambles.

He was especially good at drunken rambles. He'd become known as the Pilot around the bar due in part to his amazing mid-air acrobatics and the way he always seemed to fly himself right into silliness. Andy wasn't completely oblivious to this fact, either, and even began to announce his downward fall into drunkenness with a memorable phrase, "bar, this is kamikaze!" to signify his committal to irreparable liver damage and probable social inadequacies.

His friends never did anything to stop him, it was always a good laugh. By the time they'd all arrive, Andy would be slurring his words, feeling less of his joints, and seeing double; it's almost as if this was the only Mr. Fennelberg they'd ever known. Mike Schoemacher and Deryl Valens had actually known Andy for almost 6 years, and Sam Didier for 4. To them, Andy was a good guy, funny, whimsical, almost dream-like, barely even touching the Earth: one had to consciously recall Andy to even remember he existed in reality. He was ghostlike in more ways than one: his eyes were dark, almost but not quite sunken, his skin pale as death, he was skinny and his joints creaked like hinges on coffins, but mostly it was his words. They were haunting, disturbing, cold, yet uncannily humorous, friendly, occasionally sharp-witted, and prescient. It was more than one time Andy pierced the hearts of his patrons, the visitors to his slurry, hanging reality.

More (maybe) later...
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 Posted 11/14/2007 8:20 PM - 38 Views - 0 eProps - 0 comments

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