From: Bathsheba.Grossman@launchpad.unc.edu (Bathsheba Grossman)
Subject: Philly Boink Report
Organization: University of North Carolina Extended Bulletin Board Service
Date: Tue, 24 Nov 1992 02:21:25 GMT

The Philly Boink, an appalling multimedia extravaganza featuring Marcel
Duchamp, Rustoleum, The Roches, the absence of Shel Silverstein, and
while I didn't get an official head count, off the top of my head I list 
15 regulars and 6 lurkers: on the whole an intelligent and congenial bunch.
Friday night we ate, drank and were merry.  Saturday was iffy until the 
contra-dance, which many people liked and only a few didn't enjoy.  It was 
a lot of fun for something done in a church; very vigorous, but it turns
out that I can dance so long as someone is telling me what to do and
simultaneously someone else is hauling me into position by main force. 
Also it was interesting being felt up by so many old men.

The party on Saturday went excellently: we had Al's deservedly famous
pizza and good beer and fudge and bananas and chocolate fondue and
expensive candy.  The brouhaha was mainly in my studio and people adored
the work embarrassingly much (dissenters keep quiet - I'm
maintaining a high-powered artistic ego here, and it's worse than
keeping up a Lotus).  Nobody got excessively drunk or broke anything, even the
fragile waxes, or turned on power tools in an unwise fashion, so my trust was
justified; all my bones and rubber lizards seem still to be here.  Seth
brought a DAT deck and the Cap'n brought a pen-laser.  There was a
high-stakes, hard-liquor poker game with a $50 buy-in and a wimpy one for
a tenth of that; they broke up around four with the general amity still
preserved.  Allison did her trick several times - chocolate-dipped, no less
- and Dutton blushed.  "I'm not blushing, I'm laughing," he lamely
protests.  Then there was the 8-man whole-body massage (I think
they maxed out at 11 but by then had got silly)... I could almost get mushy.
Seth asks, at what point did it stop being relaxing and become something
else?  When that evil soul mentioned tickling.  Actually, I think we were
about four guys along before I twigged anything unusual - it was pretty
late when Wallich started it, and he has good hands.

Descriptions, you are all waiting with worms on your tongues for
descriptions.  James appears to have lived a lot and has kindly eyes
(pointy-toed cowboy boots too, speaking of permanent foot damage).  Mark
Israel looks like someone with a lifelong deficiency in some crucial vitamin,
but isn't bad to talk to once you get him alone.  Allisson is indeed a
sight to behold.  Email me for further intimate details about your secret
admiree.

Altogether a worthwhile event.  Particularly I nudge girl lurkers to show
up to these things - truly a smorgasbord of delights potential,
beneficial, baneful, and babelicious.  Woo woo, wink wink, and here I
leave you.

-Sheba
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