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Notes from Monday night's gaming

They number their Jameses.

Ryan head-butted the dog.

"Are you rolling my dice in a Jack-in-the-Box container?!? I REFUSE!!" -- Greg, to Bubba, who was indeed rolling the dice into a Jack-in-the-Box mozzarella sticks box.

"Are you BITING my boyfriend?" Bubba to Bridget's player. (She was. She kept doing it.)

Greg stuck a plastic spoon to my arm.

"How do you come from work and not have your dice? It's 'bring your dice to work' day!" -- Greg
"We don't celebrate that." -- James2

"I am without a muppet."

Conversation about the dog:
"What's he eating?"
"Ass is not yummy."

"I am the horizontal genie." -- Greg, who was "sitting" cross-legged on the floor ... on his back. James2 made commentary about smoke coming out his ass.

"I'm a lemming! Portable!"

"I don't even have a dreamy loving side. I think I ate it one morning." -- Greg

I wrote a note on my notepad to Bridget's player: It's so lonely being female. There was agreement.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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