Marooned
on Satellite Island. Or as I like to call it, the Land of Noecholand.
How did you get here?
A storm did brew and send me here, after rescuing me first from the doldrums, but you know, too much rescue.
And why Noecholand?
Oh, that's because of the invisible, inpenetrable layer of sonicloud surrounding the island. I can't communicate with anyone outside- all radio broadcasts get nixed.
How are you communicating with me?
I am you.
Oh.
So I just sit here and listen to the same song endlessly floating around the island.
What song?
Tiger in my Tank.
Is going to go extinct?
Yes, eventually.
How did you get here?
A storm did brew and send me here, after rescuing me first from the doldrums, but you know, too much rescue.
And why Noecholand?
Oh, that's because of the invisible, inpenetrable layer of sonicloud surrounding the island. I can't communicate with anyone outside- all radio broadcasts get nixed.
How are you communicating with me?
I am you.
Oh.
So I just sit here and listen to the same song endlessly floating around the island.
What song?
Tiger in my Tank.
Is going to go extinct?
Yes, eventually.
posted by Captain Blah at 9:55 AM
1 Comments:
I have been marooned on an island myself, some months ago, a very dark time in which I am sorry to say I drank an entire liter of donkey blood in order to stay alive.
It was a desert island, like I said, full of donkeys and horses and half-breeds hauling around wooden carts and loads on their backs full of...now what were those mules carrying? Funny I should not remember after so much time spent with them. Ah, but no matter, what's done is done, yes? What's important is: none of the beasts were slain by my hands and I have returned to tell the tale.
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