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Joe's · Excellent · Adventures

what is free will?

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If we do decide to restart SMA_Joe we can discuss if we're going to restart entirely or pick up from where we left off. I've also tweaked the info page a bit, so please look at that.
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Anyone interested in bringing Joe back to life/expanding the community base by pimping the community to friends?
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Puzzled, Joe returned to the room where this new mystery began - the bathroom. Like his juvenile hero, Sherlock Holmes, he rechecked every surface of the room. Nothing was abnormally out of place. The cap of the tooth paste was left off the tube, causing Joe to grumble internally. This was one of his pet peeves. John's toothbrush was still wet, suggesting that it had been used recently. All of John's night clothes were present except for his boxer-briefs. 'Well at the very least he won't be arrested for indecent exposure,' Joe thought.

The lid to the toilet seat was up, the grooming (medicine) cabinet was open and the shaving cream was on the wrong side "John..." Joe sighed with frustration as he put it back.

As one of the narrators this is a good time to shed a little light on one of Joe's faults because as of yet he appears to have very very few. I mean He's handsome, has good hair, is a chivalrous gentleman, socially conscious, and politically correct (well... most of the time), but he is also quite anal retentive. It is actually a wonder that he and John are the best of friends given their differences. Well, they're pretty similar except for being socially conscious and politically correct. John's motto - if people may have mottos - is "Let it be," which coincidentally is his theme song, which he consciously decided on during a full and lengthy conversation involving trying to convince those around him that life was a giant TV show. Naturally they thought he was a tad odd.

But getting back to the story...

Joe inspected the bath shower quite thoroughly and discovered that there was a strip of burnt orange towel caught in the drain which extended down in what he assumed to be the drain pipe. He gave it a tug. Nothing happened. He tugged again and for a split second he thought he felt it tug hum. On the third tug he was pulled down down down down through the drain. He found that he was unable to let go of the towel.

There was a bright light at the end of the pipe and Joe suddenly found himself in a strange room wearing only a burnt orange toga of the same fabric of his towels and his lime green socks.
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Joe knew that John had been in that shower for more time than usual, he was probably growing limefungus or something by now.

-what to do, what to do- joe thought, -john is naked in there, I cant just barge in...- he got up, walked up to the bathroom door, knocked very loundly, and screamed, "everything alright in there?"

no answer.

-houston, I´m going in- Joe oppened the door and a cloud of steam flowed into the hallway.
-jeez, he´s waisting all our hot water!- "John, whats going on? you´re taking forever to shower!"

no answer.

Joe stepped in, he shielded his eyes and felt his way around to the shower handles to turn off the running water. There was a peaceful silence after he removed that background drone noise of water drops hitting the plastic curtain. Still blinded, he turned around to face the door and removed his arm from his face. He was all ears... there was no sound of John complaining, laughing, moving, there was no sound at all...

-This has gone too far, I dont care if I have to see the guy naked, he´s my friend and I should check to see if its something serious- with these words, Joe built himself up with enough courage to turn around, walk to the shower and pull the curtain aside to find...


Absolutelý peeved from the scare John was causing him for no reason, he stormed out to look for him.
He looked in the bedroom, living room, kitchen, everywhere; and no sight of him.
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"Hey, Joe... don't forget we have that thing tonight," John said, before pulling back into the bathroom.

Joe was halfway through putting on his second neon green sock (he had never really had much luck when it came to the footwear part of fashion sense) by the time he realized what John had said. 

"Wait, what thing?"

There was no answer, except for the sound of running water, which was odd, because Joe had thought his roommate was done with his shower.  Apparently not.

Now, Joe, being wise in the ways of his friend's personal habits, knew that John would probably not be able to hear him over the sound of the shower, because he was somewhat deaf in his right ear, due to reasons unknown at this point in time.  And, he reasoned, even if John could hear him, he mostly likely would ignore any questions in an attempt to piss off Joe, for males of the human species tend to enjoy doing that to their friends, also for reasons unknown at this point in time.

So Joe sat down on his bed and waited.  He attempted to put one of John's left boxing gloves, which had somehow ended up in Joe's room, on his right hand, and then he waited some more.  And waited.  And waited.  Twenty minutes later, the water was still running and John still hadn't come out of the bathroom...

((*cue 'impending doom' music*))
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Joe was an average guy. He liked Pizza, video games and other manly pursuits. He seemed, though, to be a magnet for odd happenings. This day started out like any other day in Portland - with rain, lots and lots of rain.

Joe grumbled as he got out of bed. Clad in pinstriped boxers, he walked into the bathroom he unfortunately shared with John, who had a habit of using more than half of the storage space in the bathroom. Grumbling about life’s inequalities, Joe proceeded to perform his morning routine, which included a shower, brushing his teeth and shaving his face.

He emerged from the bathroom with a burnt orange towel tied around his waist and another slung around his neck. His hair was still damp - owing to the fact that they no longer owned a hair dryer. Once in his room, he used the second towel to dry his hair - or at least make it less wet.

In a few short minutes, both towels were thrown into the laundry basket Joe kept in the corner of his room. Joe donned a pair of khaki pants and a charcoal grey knit turtleneck. He was attempting to put his socks on while standing up when John stuck his wet head through the open door frame.

((If a storyline dies, feel free to start another episode))
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Hey Kids. I've just spent the last few hours revamping the sma_joe page. Hope you like. For pictures of Joe, Isabelle, and John see the user info section, which can be reached by clicking on "Da Rules".

Please give feedback.

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She gave him a small wave before turning the handle and opening the portal into a less awkward space.

The door closed.
-OH GOD- Joe was sinking into self-dissapointment, -oh god, oh god, oh god-

"I need more coffee"

Taking the old fashioned whistling tea pot, he filled it with water from the faucet and set it on the gas stove. Joe then slumped down on his chair; his mood slumped down too. It was beginning to rain. Oregon weather barely holds any surprises, its just the same gray sky and continuous drizzle.


-Isabelle- he sighed. Joe was infront of the laptop; he paused for a second, then looked at the blank screen of MicrosoftWord and began to write.

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Both smiled awkwardly. They felt like people at a department store parting, Isabelle being the customer that was leaving.

Joe ran a hand through his tousled hair, making it stick up at odd angles. 'I'm suck a dorkus,' he thought as he continued to grin awkwardly. "So yeah, Adams. He's a funny guy... right so uh..." The more he spoke the more nervous he became. "Have a good read then..."

Isabelle looked at Joe with raised eyebrows. His nervousness was beginning to affect her as well. "Thanks Joe, I will." Slowly, as to not startle her brother's friend, she backed away from him and towards the door of the apartment. 'Wow, my brother's friends are odd,' she thought as he back came in contact with the door.

She gave him a small wave before turning the handle and opening the portal into a less awkward space.
Current Mood:
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Joe blushed and nodded dumbly....

-This is just fantastic-
The words of sarcasm ran laps around his head, mocking his stupidity.
-can I ever be normal around her?-

"I can't find Adams..."

"They're on top of his desk, by that pile of PEOPLE magazines." Joe felt relieved, at last a comprehensible sentence.

"John reads PEOPLE?" she was astounded... "I need to spend more time here before I dont recognize the guy anymore. Ah! I see the books."

Isabelle was talking to herself, -or was she talking to him?- he couldnt tell.
-Guess I'm not the only weird one here-

Isabelle came out of John's room carrying her collection.

"so, Isabelle..." started Joe, wanting to say something clever, but, -where exactly is this comment going?-
panick began to build inside him as he realized his mind had gone blank.
-come on Joe, you are a writer, think of something to say!-
He became aware of how stupid he must look just standing there, in the middle of the room, with no apparent purpose of being there; and no place to lean on...
Isabelle looked expectant as if she were waiting for him to say something specific,

Finally Joe managed an: "uh, have a good day then."

"thank you, you too."

Both smiled awkwardly. They felt like people at a department store parting, Isabelle being the customer that was leaving.
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