Rambling (pronounced "rambling") could best be described as, you know, kind of... well look, basically there was this one time from ages ago where this guy I went to school with, called, erm, oh what was his name? You know, he was that blond guy that went out with Shirley for, like, a year. Well actually it was more like three months, cause she ended up cheating on him, I mean, frankly, that whole relationship was a train wreck, I'm suprised they lasted more than five minutes together! Yeah and the guy, what was his name? It wasn't Jack Adamson, cos he was the gay one that came out to Chloe which was kinda stupid really cause she was a goth girl and totally not into that sort of thing. No, this guy, was, was, erm... Oh yeah! Jason Smith, that was him! So yeah, Jason Smith, he used to always tell these stories, man they were stupid, just going all over the place with no point, like once we were on a bus with Samantha, the girl I was with at the time, before Jenny and after Dee - Dee was the psycho who came into school with a bomb one day - oh, you wouldn't remember that actually, you arrived about two months after, when the school was pretty much repaired. Anyway, we were on the bus one day, must have been a Sunday, and he just walks up to us - me, Samantha, Charlie, and his girlfriend Maria. And he just - out of nowhere, starts talking about seeing a hare on the street. And he takes ages describing it, you know, its tail, its legs - what? No, not a "hair", a fucking "hare", you know, those rabbitty things. But they're not rabbits, there must be some difference I suppose, maybe hares are taller or something. Anyway, Jay - that's what some people called him, but I didn't - too familiar, you know, and I didn't like him much. It's not that I hated him, or that we didn't get along, just that he was a bit odd. Anyhow, Jason was talking about this fucking hare, and about how he planned to hunt it using a bow and arrow - I'm serious, he did archery and probably could have killed the thing. Anyway he says to us - in that stupid squeaky voice of his: man, did that kid ever hit puberty? - he says to us "I went in to get my bow but when I came out it was gone." That was fucking it. That was the finale of that boring-ass story, after about five precious minutes wasted listening to him describe tha hare's nose and fur and the way it walked - I mean, if he loved the thing so much, why did he try and kill it?! Anyway, that was his story, and my friend is like, man, what a waste of time that was, and he used this one word that summed it up really well, it was something, like, erm... radical? Rubbish? Redundant? No, no, it was something better... Oh yeah! Now I remember. It was rambling. Yeah. That was it.
I get that part, but what, you know, what exactly is it?
Rambling is a disease. Its very dangerous.
Oh crap, is it contagious?
It can be if you talk to someone with the disease for a long time. People from different places have a higher chance of catching it, a good example is the Irish. They can never stay on the point.
Is there a cure?
Yes, there is in fact two cures. The first is to strap the suffer to a chair and tell them to tell you a story, and hit them untill they tell you the straight facts. The other is to strap them to a chair and shoot them.
How rambling happens... or works... is that right? Works? Rambling doesn't really work, does it?
Rambling often occurs when someone is telling an anecdote and diverts erratically off the subject, much to the annoyance of people listening, as shown below: