Zeroeth, thanks must go to flamingweasel for arrangement and
orchestration of this most satisfactory debauch.
First, I must thank prole for leading myself, WonkoDSane, and
Unless to the Fremont Troll. More about that later, but I have a
feeling she felt underappreciated about this so I thought I'd get to it
first. We gave her pretty hard time along the way.
On to the narrative!
Meeting the Noders
Saturday 3 PM: So we were all to meet at the fountain, and meet we
did, and impressive the fountain was. True to promises, there were
kiddies frolicking in the fountain. As I approached, about 40 minutes
late, I walked right past a group of noders as I headed for a bunch of
jugglers, which I thought was a good sign. Ironically, one of the
noders I passed was ideath, queen of the juggle from the Ohio
gathering. Soon I corrected my error and made welcome with that first
bunch. Names flew, right over my head, being as bad with names as I
Our way was made to another group of noders, and various antics ensued
as bubble-making hardware was passed out. Svaha began attempting
smoke bubbles, which when they pop create an enchanting "poof" of smoke
effect. Some others as well as myself also tried to varied success.
Saturday 5 PM: After some logistical discussions, it was off to the
monorail. Seattle's monorail has only two stops. So we got on, sat,
got off at the only destination we could have: downtown Seattle and
walked to Pike Place Market. We saw some flying fish (and a salmon
filet was purchased to supplement the psuedocrab already on ice for
late-nite autosushi activities). We splintered, promising to meed in
an hour at the totem poles. Some of us had parking issues to attend
Now that's what I call a sticky situation.
I began walking about with Unless and some other noders, ideath and
dwyn, perhaps? It soon became clear that our object was to get
lost, and we would do the opposite of any helpful directions I might
give having been around the area a few time in the past. Our path took
us down the deserted bit of Post Alley, to the wall of gum.
Hundreds, ney, thousands of passerby had contributed the results of
their obsessive mastication to this wall, and we were to be no
different. Someone produced three sticks of gum, Extra Sugar Free
as I recall, and with only mild reluctance chewing and sticking was the
result. Not just any sticking: a bright flourescent green E2 smack at eye level. I
made the '2', ideath made the 'E'. You can see it in all its glowing
glory thanks to dwyn's photos:
I guided (such as it was) our motley band both to the fabled public
elevator whose existence was doubted and the covenience store which
sold American Spirits, the sort of place one wouldn't expect to find
on the tory street of galleries and overly expensive food and clothing
boutiques peppered about on 1st Ave.
Eventually we got to the totem poles, not even late. Though I think we
were the last to arrive.
(skipping return monorail ride, more parkbound noders) ... As ideath
can attest, we got to my car the very minute my parking pass
expired. I looked at the ticket, then looked at the dashboard clock to
see it change to one minute past my tickets expiry.
time passes ... sit-n-spin ... drive to chez weasel as the lead car
of our white/blue/red caravan (as in a bunch of cars, not the
minivan) ... wonko and i fall behind (on foot, after parking) and
search for the house ... meeting people ... stuff ... setting up xdvd
player ... stuff ... lesbians ... ... to be filled in.
Fast-forward past hours of organizing to when we actually left the
house on the trip to the troll...
Trolling for Fun and Profit
We made it all the way to the end of 14th Ave W, the street on which
Chez Weasel is located, before stopping to ensure all the trollers were
present. Some people went back and forth a bit, and general confusion
abounded, culminating in the realization that ideath had gone
missing. Eventually she found herself, though no one called das weasel
from chez weasel on the weaselphone to call off the ideath hunt. So we
did. In the process of all this most of the trollers decided to head
home. But four of us, those with the right stuff (backpack full
of beer and smokes all around) braved being led by our dear drunk
prole onward to the troll.
Much discussion of the path to follow occured but was mostly
irrelevent. W.D.s. watered many a bush along the way. It was dark,
but pretty once we could see the water and the other shore.
After crossing the Fremont bridge, we took some photos with the
life-sized family statue, which had the trappings of a recent wedding
all about it. Continuing down the road to Aurora, we passed a toppled
concrete post. Unless and prole wanted to take it with us.
WonkoDSane and I look suitably baffled, but don't stop them when they
find a bit not still attatched to the ground by steel rods and unless
decides to carry it off. He got it maybe a block up the Aurora hill
when it was abandoned to the trip back. Of course, that trip back
would not pass by the stone, but we didn't know that at the time.
But find the troll we did. And proceeded to dink and make merry on the
troll. At one point the moment was very punk, as we huddled in the
crook of the giant's arm and considered sleeping there for the night.
WonkoD got up and went for a walk, or so we thought. After wondering
aloud where he'd gone off to (we surmised it was to once again relieve
the pressures of his bladder) he stepped out from behind one of the
bridge supports where he'd been sitting. Prole decided she was
exposing too much of herself to the cold stone (at least that's what
I thought she said) and went to lay on something resembling a
bench down by the road. In a bit she was accosted in a way by two
drunken frat boys who asked her if she was ok. Though soon she would
swear it was she who accosted them. Really though there was no
accosting going on.
At one point some other seemingly drunk tourists were phoing themselves
and the troll. One stuck his head up the troll's nostril for the
camera. The things people do... Some of us (but not myself) even
tried to pry open the engine cover of the Volkswagen Beetle cought in
the troll's petrified grasp, but to no avail as the car seemed equally
We did not call on Wonko (not DSane -- the one with the WRX) to retrieve us from the troll because we were too
drunk to move. We had an excellent cover story: the underweight
Unless had found himself overexerted (with an oncoming cold and 26
blocks or so of walking) as did we all to a certain extent. We didn't
know they'd send out someone alone who had no idea of how to get to the
troll! That our thankful selves (but mostly prole) were able to
guide him back to chez weasel is a testament to something. Just what I
don't know, but it was truly a significant testament nonetheless.
The Rest of Sunday
When did we return? I don't remember. But we put on The Big
Lebowski and were entertained. By then it was late, early,
whatever, about six in the morning. we ate some bread I'd brought,
drank lots of water, and began shutting down, finally. I decided my
own bed sounded really good, and drove back to Bellevue.
I think these were all the movies variously watched over the course of
the weekend: But I'm a Cheerleader, several episodes of
Æon Flux, The Princess Bride, The Big
Lebowski, and the director's commentary version of Ferris
Bueller's Day Off. Which I actually spelled right without looking
it up first!
"The Prole abides."