Koldyke

It’s only a matter of time before An Doof Ass ships off to Belgium for his philosophical dandyism. We all wish him luck. And can only guess the kind of fool he will appear as when he tries to speak with any kind of authority on matters not monopolized by bald, elderly, chaste men. Nevertheless, we’re all quite sure he will have a rollicking time and, if recent A.D.A rumors are any indication, he is already gearing up for the big show.

Fly Fishing Guide: So do you want to hear a funny story about our mutual acquaintance?
Working Boy: I live for very little else.
F.F.G: As do I. So the story then?
W.B: Proceed.
F.F.G: Well, when An Doof Ass was in town for Halloween, we spent an evening drinking hot toddies with a member of the fairer sex. After our little get together I heard so interesting tale about An Doof Ass’s social graces....

(Flashback)

Attractive Girl: So, what do you do?
An Doof Ass: What does do mean? eh? eh? That’s the question. Volition. There’s a quagmire if a quagmire I’ve ever seen. You know, man?
A.G: Um, okay. So F.F.G tells me you are in graduate school. Do you like it there.
A.D.A: I don’t know, do I like it there?
A.G: That’s what I asked you.
A.D.A: I know.
A.G: So why don’t you just answer the question?
A.D.A: (laughing) I would if I could. But you see I’d have to have an identifiable singular, particularity identity in order to even begin to understand how to possibly go about answer that question of "other." And we all know we can’t show that to be the case in our Post-Zizeck milieu. Don’t we now?
A.G: Listen I’m just trying to make conversation while the person I know, and whose company I enjoy, is in the bathroom writing your cell phone number in the stalls.
A.D.A: I love you, marry me. Let’s have babies. We’ll raise them to be cruchy-cons just like us.
...........
A.G: Are you crying?

(Flashback concludes)

F.F.G: So she told me all about how he couldn’t carry on a normal conversation but instead tried to best in her a game of wits and then started crying before stripping naked and running around outside yelling "I am the Existential reality."
W.B: that poor old bastard is way out of his league this time.
F..F.G: What with women or philosophy?
W.B: Oh, I suppose those. I was just thinking about the basic taste and decency of which he falls dreadfully short.
F.F.G: well obviously.