RE: Telling a story without a narrator voice
March 26, 2017 at 5:57 pm
(This post was last modified: March 26, 2017 at 6:18 pm by Silent Snob.)
"Boredome isn't such a bad thing, Snob. It's what basically all of Stanley Kubric's movies are all about."
"Nah. You're wrong. Nobody knows what Stanley was up to."
"Anyway. Why not just let it go?"
"What?"
"All of this. Being a member of some club and such. Why not leave it alone?"
"I'm bored. I need something to carry me through."
"Being an alcoholic isn't good enough anymore?"
"I'm not an alcoholic!"
"See?! That's what I mean. You need more potent stuff to get through your day, babe. Just sayin'..."
"Nah, that would even bore me more. Leave me alone with your hyperspace-crap, Marty."
"I'm just offering an option, Snob."
"Boredome rocks!"
"Ah! Come on. Not really."
"Whadaya wanna bet?"
"Please don't come at me like this, Snobby. You know I'm not into gaming."
"Boy! Since when is that the case? You need my assistence right now? Looks as if you're about to...."
"Nah, I don't need you for my kinda thing. I'm not an idiot. I can take care of myself."
"Sandwich?"
"What kind?"
"Old gouda with french mustard, mushrooms and girkins."
"Why not. Alternative?"
"Spanking you."
"Terrence McKenna is a creep, Snob. I'm an expert. I know what I'm doing."
"Ah! Come on, Marty. Please don't be more silly than I can stand. And I can stand a lot of sill nowerdays."
"I'm the most, the best, the only hyperspace-cowbody in town who also knows what non-duality is all about. Like totally."
"I'm not sure if you read too many books, have met the wrong people, or if you're just freakin' downright crazy, Marty."
"I have a job!"
"What does that even mean?"
"It means I get paid for that shit. What about you?"
"I'm just some regular creep. Nothing can harm me because I have the jobel-diploma."
"Yeah, bragg on, Snobby."
"I'm blond, vain and collected. You cant' beat that."
"Nah. You're wrong. Nobody knows what Stanley was up to."
"Anyway. Why not just let it go?"
"What?"
"All of this. Being a member of some club and such. Why not leave it alone?"
"I'm bored. I need something to carry me through."
"Being an alcoholic isn't good enough anymore?"
"I'm not an alcoholic!"
"See?! That's what I mean. You need more potent stuff to get through your day, babe. Just sayin'..."
"Nah, that would even bore me more. Leave me alone with your hyperspace-crap, Marty."
"I'm just offering an option, Snob."
"Boredome rocks!"
"Ah! Come on. Not really."
"Whadaya wanna bet?"
"Please don't come at me like this, Snobby. You know I'm not into gaming."
"Boy! Since when is that the case? You need my assistence right now? Looks as if you're about to...."
"Nah, I don't need you for my kinda thing. I'm not an idiot. I can take care of myself."
"Sandwich?"
"What kind?"
"Old gouda with french mustard, mushrooms and girkins."
"Why not. Alternative?"
"Spanking you."
"Terrence McKenna is a creep, Snob. I'm an expert. I know what I'm doing."
"Ah! Come on, Marty. Please don't be more silly than I can stand. And I can stand a lot of sill nowerdays."
"I'm the most, the best, the only hyperspace-cowbody in town who also knows what non-duality is all about. Like totally."
"I'm not sure if you read too many books, have met the wrong people, or if you're just freakin' downright crazy, Marty."
"I have a job!"
"What does that even mean?"
"It means I get paid for that shit. What about you?"
"I'm just some regular creep. Nothing can harm me because I have the jobel-diploma."
"Yeah, bragg on, Snobby."
"I'm blond, vain and collected. You cant' beat that."
