Party @8

It’s been a month and more, when I live in web-forum with groupies of similar *choices* [read allegory]. Protocols don’t make me bore to death now; nights aren’t lonesome. Back home, dinner time pre-poned to switch on the fluorescent LED to catch Party @8pm.

Venue: Forum Lounge (somewhere over the web area)
Dress Code: Clothing optional. Wear your *wits* and *heart* only!
Attraction: Wild nights, Gets perky as the moon slide to the Western horizon.
Theme: The Bong Connection
Time: 8:00 p.m. onwards

A lonely heart set the table and there are *We*! The blues, the dreamer, the blissful delight, a wandering jewel geared to “blow-out”. Night long repartees, cups of breweries refilled, and cigarette stubs quashed on to the muddy cemetery with their posterior edged. A bond (not Mr. 007) soaked to our Bong bloodline brings us together, we’re similar specimen. (Ahem!)

Before I get to the floor, lemme’ introduce you to the party-hopper. ‘The Blues’ always dream, the Dreamer is Blissful, ‘The Blissful Delight’ is an amorous jewel, the Jewel find means to Blow-out. Then, you reach to me…I am blown-out. To get some more butts to the jive ‘the plump Rony’, ‘somebody too cute’, ‘the occasional Moderator’ and extras practicing rigmarole. Non-performers stopped by, ogle, drop-a-post while regulars sliding down airy love buzz and gettin’ frisker!

The clock strikes 11’. You’re served freshly baked note (err) message and like swarm of bees hooked to honeycomb *we* pounced. Hold on! There’s rule to the game…

Rule One: Pull your best stings brewed with scathing repartee and be snarky @best. With patrons start jibing, a newbie is allowed to perch to the gallery ranks calling out cue till all are dumb stricken. (LoL) We’re never dumbfounded.
Rule Two: The Queens and King’s squabble over [the] *Blissful Ace* who’s always act as the pawn. (Poor boy!) A stack of commoner can jester lewdly, winks at anyone excluding the *Ace* otherwise get themselves booted in their Niagara. The game overtly follows directive “Pick any of the cards from the stack” but can’t stamp on *Ace*. A Queen of Heart tagged him…so watch your game!
Rule Three: Let’s rock it! Put your throttle to chock-a-full, exchange winks, send love bytes unashamed. A group of bizarre celebrates qui a des goûts spéciaux and the ‘wandering jewel’ glacises your itch. The cactus loves hot, dry air. She’s the Dame.
Rule Four: When you like play it low, share couplets or trauma from the pages of personal Self. We don’t play sugar daddies but Agony Aunts, to each of us—we’re somewhere bonded.

Nights fly…! The cyber sensation turns to mute cacophony. Snarky remarks had half the room on the floor laughing and the other half ready to walk out. Overflowing heart melts to delightful ‘muchki hansi’; fingers dodge over the edgy type pad like fluttering pairs of winglets, naughtiness seeped into us down the bones and we’ll now getting’ fingees.

Night crawled till it’s the wee morning hour. Switch off the lights and there are lonely bodies throbbing with loneliness. A bunch of hoodlum cybies belonging to similar specimens crave for company and ‘love’ (does the word sound crude to you; it’s meant lot of each one of us). We’re loners and every night we gifted each one few joyous moments and then make adjustment to our personal lives worthily.

So what…? If we’re just photographs we found new meaning to ‘be friend’.

Statutory Note: Due to certain reasons, the names of the popular participants are allegorized. I would be happy to simplify them but…I won’t. The reason of not doing so…you don’t bother to know them but they’re NICE and they’re NOW a part of me. Thank you ALL.