Shit, Spit Damn
Dec. 20th, 2007 11:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stitchwhichJust got the call that one of my Pennsic-friends, someone I only see in August and who I loved working with (he's on staff. I mean "he was on staff". Fuck) anyway, ULRIC of Technical Services has passed on. From Pneumonia. When did healthy strong men start dying from that? What the hell is that? Damn. Cip's Tree isn't going to be the same without him there cracking jokes. Who the HELL is going to pick up his job pre-Pennsic? He and Frog and John and Ed work damned near 18 hours a day until Land Grab. (okay, and beyond.)
Spit.
Who am I gonna hassle and tease about my stairs to the trailer? Who's gonna drive the "Viking Boat" golf cart with that big (half missing) grin? Every time I have to unload a huge delivery, he won't be popping up to suddenly be handing me boxes. Goddamnit.
Damn, damn, damn.
Why can't it just be a vicious rumor like the letter about Dennis O'conner was*?
(Don't worry, I'm sure I'll clean up the language tomorrow.)
Damn.
*It was a hoax. Dennis is alive and well and told the person calling his wife so when he answered the phone.
Spit.
Who am I gonna hassle and tease about my stairs to the trailer? Who's gonna drive the "Viking Boat" golf cart with that big (half missing) grin? Every time I have to unload a huge delivery, he won't be popping up to suddenly be handing me boxes. Goddamnit.
Damn, damn, damn.
Why can't it just be a vicious rumor like the letter about Dennis O'conner was*?
(Don't worry, I'm sure I'll clean up the language tomorrow.)
Damn.
*It was a hoax. Dennis is alive and well and told the person calling his wife so when he answered the phone.
