4/8/2015 The Visit

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JSGOTI

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I really don't know what I expected, but it's suffice to say that the response, or lack thereof, was pretty close to what I figured it was going to be.

For those uninformed, I'm down in Virginia for a friends wedding this next weekend, so I took this opportunity to do something nice for our favorite pal, Chris, and went to stop by his house to deliver a pair of framed animation cels from the old Sonic saturday morning cartoon. People are right, the place is an absolute shithole in comparison to all the surrounding homes. It's an ugly sore thumb on the corner of the street and even at night. there's no hiding it; seeing how there is a streetlight shining down.

But that's just beating a dead horse at this point, so I'll move on. This morning, around 11am, which I would have thought would be a reasonable time to be up and about for our manchild, I parked on the street and made my approach to the front door. I can confirm that Chris is living in the basement, as there is a gay rights flag hanging in the lower right window, but nothing else that really stuck out, as the entire house is closed off by curtains and shades.

Surprisingly, the doorbell worked. Though the two dogs that LOST THEIR MIND from within the house, definitely worked better. It was a good five or six minutes of waiting before I came to knock this second time around, and a few more minutes after that before I got this faint, hate-filled mutter from inside the house. Did it happen? Did I finally talk with Chris in person, will I be one of the privileged few who have heard that all-consuming sigh of stress?

Of course not, it would appear that our favorite gal-pal was either still asleep, hiding, or just too busy making more shitty medallions and amiibos and couldn't hear the knocking over his own sperging.

Instead, that voice from within the house belonged to none other then our beloved Blarb. At first I was not sure if I had heard anything, but it is to my belief that she shuffled enough stuff around the entry-way so that she could be within five feet of it and actually speak again. "No trespassers, go away", came that decrepit voice, spittle undoubtedly spewing forth violently with every spoken word. Try as I might, getting right to the point that I was not trespassing, and just wanting to deliver something, there came a pause from beyond the doorway. Straining, to try and listen to those rusty gears creaking to life within the Blarb's head, there finally came a response. "What is it?" Perfect, I had an opportunity, even stating that I could just leave them at the door if she would prefer, I explained what they were, and that I was just passing through the area and wanted to deliver them in person to avoid breaking the glass of the frames. Once more, I was greeted with silence, the Blarb undoubtedly fellating her son into a waking state so that he could break out the pepper spray or yell for someone else to call the cops. In the end, there came a bit of a grumble as if she couldn't make up her mind before those closing words were given. "We don't want them, go away"

So away I went, back to my car, and on my merry way to continue my tour of the area.

And thus, was the story of how I almost met Chris, face to face.

Edit: As a side note, Blarb's van was not present.

TLDR:
tumblr_mwl0bzKXEa1rihlmpo1_250.gif
 
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CatParty

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I really don't know what I expected, but it's suffice to say that the response, or lack thereof, was pretty close to what I figured it was going to be.

For those uninformed, I'm down in Virginia for a friends wedding this next weekend, so I took this opportunity to do something nice for our favorite pal, Chris, and went to stop by his house to deliver a pair of framed animation cels from the old Sonic saturday morning cartoon. People are right, the place is an absolute shithole in comparison to all the surrounding homes. It's an ugly sore thumb on the corner of the street and even at night. there's no hiding it; seeing how there is a streetlight shining down.

But that's just beating a dead horse at this point, so I'll move on. This morning, around 11am, which I would have thought would be a reasonable time to be up and about for our manchild, I parked on the street and made my approach to the front door. I can confirm that Chris is living in the basement, as there is a gay rights flag hanging in the lower right window, but nothing else that really stuck out, as the entire house is closed off by curtains and shades.

Surprisingly, the doorbell worked. Though the two dogs that LOST THEIR MIND from within the house, definitely worked better. It was a good five or six minutes of waiting before I came to knock this second time around, and a few more minutes after that before I got this faint, hate-filled mutter from inside the house. Did it happen? Did I finally talk with Chris in person, will I be one of the privileged few who have heard that all-consuming sigh of stress?

Of course not, it would appear that our favorite gal-pal was either still asleep, hiding, or just too busy making more shitty medallions and amiibos and couldn't hear the knocking over his own sperging.

Instead, that voice from within the house belonged to none other then our beloved Blarb. At first I was not sure if I had heard anything, but it is to my belief that she shuffled enough stuff around the entry-way so that she could be within five feet of it and actually speak again. "No trespassers, go away", came that decrepit voice, spittle undoubtedly spewing forth violently with every spoken word. Try as I might, getting right to the point that I was not trespassing, and just wanting to deliver something, there came a pause from beyond the doorway. Straining, to try and listen to those rusty gears creaking to life within the Blarb's head, there finally came a response. "What is it?" Perfect, I had an opportunity, even stating that I could just leave them at the door if she would prefer, I explained what they were, and that I was just passing through the area and wanted to deliver them in person to avoid breaking the glass of the frames. Once more, I was greeted with silence, the Blarb undoubtedly fellating her son into a waking state so that he could break out the pepper spray or yell for someone else to call the cops. In the end, there came a bit of a grumble as if she couldn't make up her mind before those closing words were given. "We don't want them, go away"

So away I went, back to my car, and on my merry way to continue my tour of the area.

And thus, was the story of how I almost met Chris, face to face.

Edit: As a side note, Blarb's van was not present.


pics or it didn't happen

EDIT; oh there we go!

 
Last edited:

Lipitor

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Dec 27, 2014
I really don't know what I expected, but it's suffice to say that the response, or lack thereof, was pretty close to what I figured it was going to be.

For those uninformed, I'm down in Virginia for a friends wedding this next weekend, so I took this opportunity to do something nice for our favorite pal, Chris, and went to stop by his house to deliver a pair of framed animation cels from the old Sonic saturday morning cartoon. People are right, the place is an absolute shithole in comparison to all the surrounding homes. It's an ugly sore thumb on the corner of the street and even at night. there's no hiding it; seeing how there is a streetlight shining down.

But that's just beating a dead horse at this point, so I'll move on. This morning, around 11am, which I would have thought would be a reasonable time to be up and about for our manchild, I parked on the street and made my approach to the front door. I can confirm that Chris is living in the basement, as there is a gay rights flag hanging in the lower right window, but nothing else that really stuck out, as the entire house is closed off by curtains and shades.

Surprisingly, the doorbell worked. Though the two dogs that LOST THEIR MIND from within the house, definitely worked better. It was a good five or six minutes of waiting before I came to knock this second time around, and a few more minutes after that before I got this faint, hate-filled mutter from inside the house. Did it happen? Did I finally talk with Chris in person, will I be one of the privileged few who have heard that all-consuming sigh of stress?

Of course not, it would appear that our favorite gal-pal was either still asleep, hiding, or just too busy making more shitty medallions and amiibos and couldn't hear the knocking over his own sperging.

Instead, that voice from within the house belonged to none other then our beloved Blarb. At first I was not sure if I had heard anything, but it is to my belief that she shuffled enough stuff around the entry-way so that she could be within five feet of it and actually speak again. "No trespassers, go away", came that decrepit voice, spittle undoubtedly spewing forth violently with every spoken word. Try as I might, getting right to the point that I was not trespassing, and just wanting to deliver something, there came a pause from beyond the doorway. Straining, to try and listen to those rusty gears creaking to life within the Blarb's head, there finally came a response. "What is it?" Perfect, I had an opportunity, even stating that I could just leave them at the door if she would prefer, I explained what they were, and that I was just passing through the area and wanted to deliver them in person to avoid breaking the glass of the frames. Once more, I was greeted with silence, the Blarb undoubtedly fellating her son into a waking state so that he could break out the pepper spray or yell for someone else to call the cops. In the end, there came a bit of a grumble as if she couldn't make up her mind before those closing words were given. "We don't want them, go away"

So away I went, back to my car, and on my merry way to continue my tour of the area.

And thus, was the story of how I almost met Chris, face to face.

Edit: As a side note, Blarb's van was not present.
Your problem is you went too early. I wouldn't have bothered before noon. Unless he has court I don't think he wakes up that early. Next time tap on his window.

Also about Chris living downstairs. When we went buy his old bedroom window was completely concealed by cardboard boxes. Is Barb using his old room as a horde den? She probably wants to sleep with Christian so she can horde more stuff.
 

Tsukiko

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Mar 11, 2015
Your problem is you went too early. I wouldn't have bothered before noon. Unless he has court I don't think he wakes up that early. Next time tap on his window.

Also about Chris living downstairs. When we went buy his old bedroom window was completely concealed by cardboard boxes. Is Barb using his old room as a horde den? She probably wants to sleep with Christian so she can horde more stuff.

Next time throw a rock with Clyde Cash's face drawn on it through his window and yell "DON'T CALL ANYBODY"
 
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