March 30, 2005

We saw the black monolith in the courtyard of the Institute for Theoretical Physics and decided to trespass. A single beam of sunlight illuminated the slab of dark metal, and we circled the structure slowly, unsure of what to do. Some black monoliths can change your life forever…

“Touch it,” I told Josh in a raspy voice. His hand lit up when he caressed the cold metal, but he reported no visions of constellations or spasms of understanding. Sometimes a black monolith is just a black monolith, even if it is strategically placed in the bowels of an Institute for Theoretical Physics.

Slightly disappointed, we walked away and found some rocks to throw in the nearby lake.

I met Josh for the first time when he walked into the WLUSP office this afternoon, though I knew about his masturbatory fantasies through his blog. I hesitated before shaking his hand, but soon we were outside joking about jabbing eyeballs.

And for the next six hours Craig, Josh and I ran amok through Waterloo climbing buildings, seeking dildoes, harassing wildlife, and getting chased by security guards. We called the goats in the park strange names and stared into their diagonal eyes. The sky was bright and infinite, and the spring wind chilled our bones.

After our nipples froze, we went inside and I showed them how savagely opportunistic I am when playing Monopoly. And we went away liking each other a bit more.