Seastreet is gone. I did not write about it at the time (Wednesday night) because it did not seem real. It still does not seem like he is really flown away to Es-freakin-tonia, but the sadness at a friend moving away is starting to set in. So, presented for you this evening: what I miss.
The way his face lit up the first night we met when the group's conversation turned to fisting.
"You know what a great book is? it's a lot of fun! 'The Origins of Totalitarianism!' You should read it, Ful!"
"Um...can I bum a cigarette?" -- Sea
"Um...can I bum a cigarette?" -- Ful
Our secret handshake.
"Um...his horse...fell in a ditch...and he...had to...um...he's got a debilitating disease. With no horse. Yeah."
Bugbear pudding.
Him trusting me to cut and bleach and dye his hair bright fucking pink.
Technobabbling discussions about the minutiae of transporters.
(poot) "I'm SORRY, I've got DIABETES."
"Oh, just never MIND."
Aubergine shirts and outlet malls.
Arguing over where to stand on the platform.
Getting drinks together at Excelsior.
Sunday brunch where we are the only people ordering dessert.
"Pedophile." -- Everyone else
Dinner at the Chip Shop.
Grand schemes at L'Ecole.
Alan Turing.
"Do you have your testing equipment?" -- Ful
"I'm NOT colorblind!!" -- Sea
"Applenipplemonkey!"
The punching game!!
Sigh. I miss you, boy. Come back soon. Godspeed.