Previous Life?

[pasithea]

So. I have this weird overwhelming fear of getting sticky things on me.

This seems like it would have been my worst nightmare if I were around at the time.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boston_Molasses_Disaster

Comments

[ff00ff.livejournal.com]

I asked about the Boston molasses disaster while I was there. I was reassured that nothing in the city was sticky from that event any longer.

[postrodent.livejournal.com]

Not from _that_ event, no.
(Well, this is a swing and a miss. I should have subcontracted this comment out to Ashy.)

[ff00ff.livejournal.com]

If you'd tried a joke like that when I really did ask you'd be risking wrathful public sodomy :) "Who's sticky now? Who's sticky now?!"

[postrodent.livejournal.com]

Hmm, Boston is a bad place for public sodomy, regardless of the emotional content. All the buildings would have leaned over and frowned down their sooty brick noses at us, like a bad cartoon dream sequence.

[prickvixen.livejournal.com]

Well, no, not from _that_ event...

(Is that an improvement?)

[postrodent.livejournal.com]

From another event.

IN MY PANTS.

(It's good, but it needs a little something more. :>)

[dv-girl.livejournal.com]

I'm not sure ashy needs anything more in her pants.

[prickvixen.livejournal.com]

It needs a little something more in my pants. Well, even more, now that Sammi beat me to this joke.

[paka.livejournal.com]

Wait.

1919. Boston. Near a cemetery. During an unseasonably warm day - and that has to be quite unusual in Boston in January - sticky amorphous and strangely sweet-smelling mass rolls over hundreds of people and animals, suffocating and killing. The police, Navy and Army moves in and cordons off the area, making sure civilians aren't around to see what happens next. And after a quick and inconclusive investigation, the area is quickly leveled to provide a yard for the elevated railway.

Molasses. Yeah, sure. Ah seed them... an' Ah seed what they brung with them! Heh... heh... ever heer tell uv a shoggoth?

[dv-girl.livejournal.com]

Shssssss. They'll hear you!

Of course it's a cover story. Molasses moving a 35MPH in January? Uh-huh. Like no one has ever heard the witticism, "X moves slower than molasses in January."