Wapsi Square Forum

http://wapsisquare.com/comic/castela-moving-notice/

Castel Enora wrote:Hey there! I'm here to let you know that Paul Taylor and his family are moving to their new house, so he'll be taking a break from Wapsi while moving.

Wapsi will return July 20th.

I'll be looking forward to seeing you all back here then! =)

It's not as if the situation is without precedent.

Best of fortune in the move, Paul... here's hoping everything goes smoothly!

TazManiac wrote:...

WHW

(What He Wept)

And today is the 40yr anniversary of Rod Sterling's many dead's. Hope your move goes well - (without the use of the Transporter Beam) Spock could handle it so well.

TazManiac wrote:

Seconded.

*proceeds to run around in circles*
WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow?

kingklash wrote:*proceeds to run around in circles*
WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow, WhatdoIdonow?

FTFY

... I guess this also means my commission will be delayed... but I will survive somehow.. JWHOUK and I will carry the fort for the duration... I'm not sure if Paul finds comfort in that, but we'll give it the old college try...
Good luck on your new home, best wishes for your family-

BTW- on my trip down south, the Truck gave out near Redding CA. $1,300 later it got repaired, then there was the $800 for the car rental- The plates on the car were from MINNESOTA!!! AND I called and spoke with DAVE on the phone, as he was in Mountain View and I was a (relatively) short distance away... but our schedules did not allow a meeting.

I have two daughters and a niece in that area... I will be back...

I guess I can be patient. I've had Space Alien Cat Girls bookmarked not too long after the site went up, and I'm still waiting on that to get going.

In a dingy public hall, next to the volunteer fire brigade garage. Fourteen individuals are seated at a collection of large folding tables on cheap, metal folding chairs. A grungy coffee machine is one- third full of a questionable tarry substance that smells disgusting, while one of the flickering overhead florescent lights seems to be a haven for flies.
Seated at the head of the table, a rather weather-worn fellow of post-middle age stands up in worn 'farmer brown' overalls and a stained 'T' shirt. His glasses are held together at the right temple by thread wrapped around an extended hair pin. His facial hair is peppered with grey, as are his temples. He looks at the other fellows and announces,

"Hi... my name's Greg and I am a WAPSIHOLIC..."

In sotto voice, the other thirteen respond in unison, "Hi Greg,"...

A far younger man, basically a kid, shifted uneasily in his seat. He had dressed in a somewhat unusual fashion for the times; a combination of modern and athletic, with the loose and baggy jeans and hoodie, and old-fashioned holdouts, like the fact his pants were held securely at his waist by a black leather belt. His clothes were dark, as was his tan. His glasses were slim, and the lenses a little dirty. His brown hair was cut very short, and his face was clean-shaven. On his right hip was an old military knife he had picked up from the side of a road a few years back. A small single-shoulder backpack rested beside his chair. The end of a steel pipe, wrapped in duct tape, protruded from the top. A Nalgene bottle filled with some sort of soda stood on the table before him.
Now it was his turn to stand and make his statement. The youth stood, wincing and moving as though his bones were older than they ought to be. "Um... Hi. I'm uh, well, let's just stick with calling me Glytch. And I'm a Wapsiholic."
Again, the thirteen others chorused: "Hi, Glytch."

Sorry, did I hijack something, Sarge?
Just felt inspired all of a sudden.

GlytchMeister wrote:Sorry, did I hijack something, Sarge?
Just felt inspired all of a sudden.

With two weeks of Wapsi related withdrawal issues to deal with, I decided to open up a "Wapsiholic Anonymous" session where we can all confess and discuss our addiction- you did exactly what I was hoping you would do.

Sgt. Howard wrote:

GlytchMeister wrote:Sorry, did I hijack something, Sarge?
Just felt inspired all of a sudden.

With two weeks of Wapsi related withdrawal issues to deal with, I decided to open up a "Wapsiholic Anonymous" session where we can all confess and discuss our addiction- you did exactly what I was hoping you would do.

Sweeeet. I'm in.
...
Why 14?

GlytchMeister wrote:

Sgt. Howard wrote:

GlytchMeister wrote:Sorry, did I hijack something, Sarge?
Just felt inspired all of a sudden.

With two weeks of Wapsi related withdrawal issues to deal with, I decided to open up a "Wapsiholic Anonymous" session where we can all confess and discuss our addiction- you did exactly what I was hoping you would do.

Sweeeet. I'm in.
...
Why 14?

More can walk in as needed- just seemed like a good number

Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?

A heavyset guy frowns down at the Styrofoam cup of whatever-it-was that used to be coffee, and decides against another sip. He looks up as the young man introduces himself as "Glytch."
"Hi, Glytch," he says along with the rest. Placing the cup on a nearby folding table - covering a crudely carved heart containing the initials "D + S" - he then rubs his palms against the thighs of his faded comfort-fit jeans. With a deep breath, he stands up and smooths the front of his plain black t-shirt; a flat rectangular slab is clearly outlined in the left breast pocket. Suddenly self-conscious, he runs his right hand across the top of his shaved head and then over his two-day stubbled face. His eyes look and feel as though his relationship with sleep is strictly professional.
"Um," he begins, and then roughly clears his throat. "Ah, sorry. I'm...eh...I'm Dan, and I'm a Wapsiholic."
"Hi, Den." "Hi, Ben." "Hi, Dean." And so forth. He sighs mentally.
"No, no, DAN. As in 'Daniel.' Uh, never mind." His face burning, he sits down again with his hands on his knees and stares at the floor.
Every goddamn time.

The door crashed open and a slightly disheveled man in jeans and wrinkled white shirt stumbled through the opening.

"Sorry, sorry! Damn vertigo acting up again!" he exclaimed as he dropped a backpack against the wall and pulled a ball cap off his head. A metallic "clunk" sounded as the bag hit the floor.

Then he said, "Apologies for the late arrival, I just flew in from Houston and boy, are my arms tired!" which earned one snerk and a couple of groans. The guy in the brown overalls raised an eyebrow and almost let one corner of his mouth break a grin. The rest just sort of stared glassy-eyed at nothing.

"Hi, Hansontoons here, but call me Jon. Fewer letters to remember and easier to spell, no "H". Hey, is that stuff fresh?" he asked, turning towards the coffee pot.

A balding man with graying beard, jeans, and a tropical themed shirt joins the circle and introduces himself as "Chuck".

"Yeah, I'm a Waspiholic, too."

What brought me here. What kept me here (Arc start).