Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Observation
How is it that if I spend a half hour looking at funny pictures online, or watching some inane TV show I feel as though I have accomplished nothing, yet if I spend a half hour outside doing nothing but watch the clouds float by I feel like it is "mission accomplished" for the day...
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Good to be alive
I am not sure why, but I am in a fantastic mood this morning. It stormed last night, so everything is wet and the air has this thick "alive" feeling to it. I am very happy to be alive at this time to experience it.
Yay me!
Yay me!
Monday, June 13, 2011
Epic Tale: Part 4
The whiskey was a kick to the lady-balls. She could feel the warmth of it burn the fatigue out of her muscles. After a moment, she stood. The old man clapped a bony claw-hand on her back and guided her toward the bar.
"So what brings you to these parts young lady?" The old man asked. The woman looked at him as she pulled down the hood of her poncho. It was then that the man realized she was almost as old as he was. Her quizzical eyes studied him, and he decided to play it off as a joke. He grinned a half-grin, which she returned, flattered.
"Oh, I'm looking for someone..." She responded at last.
"Well, you found someone. Galvin Honeykin, at your service!" He responded with a wink and a tiny bow. "Or are you looking for a particular someone?" His jovial old-man charm elicited a chuckle out her, and she smiled.
"Actually, this someone is rather particular." She said, her tone of voice almost flirty. "Have you heard of a man called Wrathmall Tega?"
*CRASH* The old man dropped the glass whiskey-mug he was polishing. Glass shards scattered in every direction across the old wooden floor. He stood mouth agape for what seemed like an age. Then, shaking himself, he snatched a broom from under the bar and started sweeping up the glass shards. When he finally spoke his voice was *anything* but cordial.
"No... I don't believe I have." The icy nature of his tone seemed to grab the woman by the spine. She felt her throat tighten just a little. She sat in stony silence trying to decide what to do next, while the old man swept furiously at some glass shards that had imbedded themselves in the wood.
"Hey... barman," she said finally. Her voice soft, pleading. "It is of utmost importance that I find this man. If you have any information about him I would be most grateful." The old man ignored her, still struggling to dislodge the glass with his patchy straw broom.
The woman sighed. She pulled up her hood and headed towards the door and the storm that raged on the other side.
"So what brings you to these parts young lady?" The old man asked. The woman looked at him as she pulled down the hood of her poncho. It was then that the man realized she was almost as old as he was. Her quizzical eyes studied him, and he decided to play it off as a joke. He grinned a half-grin, which she returned, flattered.
"Oh, I'm looking for someone..." She responded at last.
"Well, you found someone. Galvin Honeykin, at your service!" He responded with a wink and a tiny bow. "Or are you looking for a particular someone?" His jovial old-man charm elicited a chuckle out her, and she smiled.
"Actually, this someone is rather particular." She said, her tone of voice almost flirty. "Have you heard of a man called Wrathmall Tega?"
*CRASH* The old man dropped the glass whiskey-mug he was polishing. Glass shards scattered in every direction across the old wooden floor. He stood mouth agape for what seemed like an age. Then, shaking himself, he snatched a broom from under the bar and started sweeping up the glass shards. When he finally spoke his voice was *anything* but cordial.
"No... I don't believe I have." The icy nature of his tone seemed to grab the woman by the spine. She felt her throat tighten just a little. She sat in stony silence trying to decide what to do next, while the old man swept furiously at some glass shards that had imbedded themselves in the wood.
"Hey... barman," she said finally. Her voice soft, pleading. "It is of utmost importance that I find this man. If you have any information about him I would be most grateful." The old man ignored her, still struggling to dislodge the glass with his patchy straw broom.
The woman sighed. She pulled up her hood and headed towards the door and the storm that raged on the other side.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Epic Tale: Part 3
She burst into the bar like a fat man's gut through a worn-out buttonwood shirt. The howling storm drown out the small jukebox in the corner while she tried to beat the storm back enough to close the heavy wooden door. Panting, she struggled to get the door shut against powerful storm. Once she had she leaned her back against it and slid slipperily to the floor.
All eyes were upon her. And by all eyes I mean the two belonging to the wizened old barkeep, as he was the only one there.
"What kin I do ya fer?" his shaky voice doled out. He had been polishing glasses for several hours now, his muscles were taught, ready to spring into action the moment she ordered.
"Nuh... Nothing, thanks." She sank deeper into the floor. A quizzical look came over her face as she drank in her surroundings. Her eyes settled on the old man behind the bar. His huge bushy eye-brows and jowly cheeks gave him a sweet old grandfatherly look. His warble-like neck-skin dangled gently back and forth. The disappointment was as evident on his face as if she had written it on there with charcoal. "Actually... I guess I'll have some whiskey." She said as she tried to pull her feet beneath her. They were too slippery and she ended up falling flat on her bum. *splut*
The old man exploded into a flurry of action! Sweeping bottles and shot glasses, whiskey mugs and whiskey vases around and about. "This one!" he declared then mumbled something incoherent as he tossed it back on the shelf. "No, no! You'll be wantin' sumthin' dryer I reckon!" He settled on just the right glass (a half-mug, with a golden seam) and then stooped under the bar.
"Ah," he said when he resurfaced. "Here she be..." He cooed over the dusty red bottle, carefully removing the cork-cap and pouring a finger into the whiskey mug. "This should perk ya right up. Make you forget all aboot that durn storm!"
All eyes were upon her. And by all eyes I mean the two belonging to the wizened old barkeep, as he was the only one there.
"What kin I do ya fer?" his shaky voice doled out. He had been polishing glasses for several hours now, his muscles were taught, ready to spring into action the moment she ordered.
"Nuh... Nothing, thanks." She sank deeper into the floor. A quizzical look came over her face as she drank in her surroundings. Her eyes settled on the old man behind the bar. His huge bushy eye-brows and jowly cheeks gave him a sweet old grandfatherly look. His warble-like neck-skin dangled gently back and forth. The disappointment was as evident on his face as if she had written it on there with charcoal. "Actually... I guess I'll have some whiskey." She said as she tried to pull her feet beneath her. They were too slippery and she ended up falling flat on her bum. *splut*
The old man exploded into a flurry of action! Sweeping bottles and shot glasses, whiskey mugs and whiskey vases around and about. "This one!" he declared then mumbled something incoherent as he tossed it back on the shelf. "No, no! You'll be wantin' sumthin' dryer I reckon!" He settled on just the right glass (a half-mug, with a golden seam) and then stooped under the bar.
"Ah," he said when he resurfaced. "Here she be..." He cooed over the dusty red bottle, carefully removing the cork-cap and pouring a finger into the whiskey mug. "This should perk ya right up. Make you forget all aboot that durn storm!"
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Epic tale 2!
It was a dark and stormy night. The howling wind bullied its way through the rainswept branches of a willow tree outside. The traveler stumbled up and rested her hand on the trunk of that tree, vainly trying to shield herself from the pounding rain. Only partially shielded from the wind she panted, stooped over, the storm buffeting against her plastic rain poncho. After a short time she braved the wind again and tried to make her way toward the only shelter she could see. The bar rested on a precipice of a crevasse, the only man-made structure for a hundred miles (the bar, not the crevasse). It had been built by a pioneer who went by the name of Jim. Legend has it he was heading west when a powerful thirst grabbed him.
It was a beautiful sunny afternoon when he set to work, and he build that bar in less then a fortnight. Once the place was raised, he had it stocked with all manner of liquor and spirits. He sat on a stool at the end of the bar until an unemployed barman stumbled in, half-drunk. The barman, not realizing where he was, shambled behind the bar and started polishing glasses.
"I'll take a whiskey." Jim stated, dry as an Arizona winter.
"Uh... sure thing pardner." The barman replied (his name was Galvin, but everyone just called him "Hey, barman!"). He poured the whiskey and slid it across the bar to Jim. Whiskey spilled everywhere. Jim took a hard gulp of the fiery liquid and stood up.
"Thanks" he said. No one ever heard from Jim again.
One hundred and 7 years later, on a Tuesday, a mysterious traveler in a plastic rain poncho bumbled up to the door of that same bar.
It was a beautiful sunny afternoon when he set to work, and he build that bar in less then a fortnight. Once the place was raised, he had it stocked with all manner of liquor and spirits. He sat on a stool at the end of the bar until an unemployed barman stumbled in, half-drunk. The barman, not realizing where he was, shambled behind the bar and started polishing glasses.
"I'll take a whiskey." Jim stated, dry as an Arizona winter.
"Uh... sure thing pardner." The barman replied (his name was Galvin, but everyone just called him "Hey, barman!"). He poured the whiskey and slid it across the bar to Jim. Whiskey spilled everywhere. Jim took a hard gulp of the fiery liquid and stood up.
"Thanks" he said. No one ever heard from Jim again.
One hundred and 7 years later, on a Tuesday, a mysterious traveler in a plastic rain poncho bumbled up to the door of that same bar.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Epic tale of awesome epicness!
So, after reading Argallsaurus' latest post I looked my resolutions over. As it is June now, I think it is as good a time as ever to re-evaluate my yearly goals. I have many items on my list that I think I probably will not get to before the summer is out, but I have some goals that I could get started on right away.
One of those goals was to write a story.
I have little half-written tid-bits of stories I have written here and there (Potatoman, Dr. Nowhere, etc.) but I recently started a new story and I think I will post it on here in installments. It is the epic tale of one Wrathmall Tega, told in compelling prose. A legendary figure vanished from memory, plucked from the mysterious mists of time to entertain you. Well, that is enough 'ado'; here is the first installment:
This is the story of a giant of a man; a man among giants, a dwarf among midgets. The legendary tale of a legend, with a tail, you've never heard.
Born in a barn that was being burned to the ground, Wrathmall Tega learned to run before he could crawl. Sporting a mullet from birth, his first words were "Bitch!" and "Bake me some chicken", but not necessarily in that order.
On his 6th birthday he took to the rails. He spent the next two years of his life doing freelance crime fighting and living a hobo's life. His only source of income was pawning the gold teeth of the criminals he punched in the face.
When he was 9, Big Three records took out a recording contract on his life. little is known of "The battle of the music masters" other than when it was over, Stevie Wonder was blind, Michael Jackson was white, and Ricky Martin was apparently turned Mexican. In his autobiography, Tega had this to say about the horrific scene: '...then they tried to sing me to death, so I beat the music out of them'. Paramount studios allegedly paid him a record $2 billion for the movie rights, with the unique stipulation that Wrathmall would play every character... and direct.
By the time he was 13 he was a Bollywood sensation. He had starred in over 400 films, most of which were less than 10 minutes long. His most famous role was in a short behind the scenes scene of him yelling at a cat. It was filmed accidentally when one of the grips left a camera rolling by mistake. It grossed $400 million dollars and netted him an Academy Award nomination for best actor (he lost out to the cat from the same film, but he later said that there were no hard feelings between the co-stars).
Tiring of the movie scene he converted all his assets into salt-water taffy and chartered a ship to take him around the world. His adventures at sea are well documented by the undersea nations in the Mermenclypedia under the heading "The Terrible Stranger". Eventually his ship wrecked on the tip of Cape Horn, He was the sole survivor. He then walked north, eventually stumbling onto the Augsburg College campus in Minneapolis Minnesota some time later.
Two weeks later he left with a Bachelor of Science in Physics, which he earned by defeating every faculty member of the Physics department in singles hand-to-hand combat. He then mysteriously disappeared, never to be seen or heard from again...
...until now!
Stay tuned for more next time!
One of those goals was to write a story.
I have little half-written tid-bits of stories I have written here and there (Potatoman, Dr. Nowhere, etc.) but I recently started a new story and I think I will post it on here in installments. It is the epic tale of one Wrathmall Tega, told in compelling prose. A legendary figure vanished from memory, plucked from the mysterious mists of time to entertain you. Well, that is enough 'ado'; here is the first installment:
This is the story of a giant of a man; a man among giants, a dwarf among midgets. The legendary tale of a legend, with a tail, you've never heard.
Born in a barn that was being burned to the ground, Wrathmall Tega learned to run before he could crawl. Sporting a mullet from birth, his first words were "Bitch!" and "Bake me some chicken", but not necessarily in that order.
On his 6th birthday he took to the rails. He spent the next two years of his life doing freelance crime fighting and living a hobo's life. His only source of income was pawning the gold teeth of the criminals he punched in the face.
When he was 9, Big Three records took out a recording contract on his life. little is known of "The battle of the music masters" other than when it was over, Stevie Wonder was blind, Michael Jackson was white, and Ricky Martin was apparently turned Mexican. In his autobiography, Tega had this to say about the horrific scene: '...then they tried to sing me to death, so I beat the music out of them'. Paramount studios allegedly paid him a record $2 billion for the movie rights, with the unique stipulation that Wrathmall would play every character... and direct.
By the time he was 13 he was a Bollywood sensation. He had starred in over 400 films, most of which were less than 10 minutes long. His most famous role was in a short behind the scenes scene of him yelling at a cat. It was filmed accidentally when one of the grips left a camera rolling by mistake. It grossed $400 million dollars and netted him an Academy Award nomination for best actor (he lost out to the cat from the same film, but he later said that there were no hard feelings between the co-stars).
Tiring of the movie scene he converted all his assets into salt-water taffy and chartered a ship to take him around the world. His adventures at sea are well documented by the undersea nations in the Mermenclypedia under the heading "The Terrible Stranger". Eventually his ship wrecked on the tip of Cape Horn, He was the sole survivor. He then walked north, eventually stumbling onto the Augsburg College campus in Minneapolis Minnesota some time later.
Two weeks later he left with a Bachelor of Science in Physics, which he earned by defeating every faculty member of the Physics department in singles hand-to-hand combat. He then mysteriously disappeared, never to be seen or heard from again...
...until now!
Stay tuned for more next time!
Baby project
So I have been taking pictures of my baby (go figure) and I am in the process of compiling them into a flash movie. The idea is that I will have a picture of him in roughly the same position every day, and when you compile all the pictures you will see him grow up.
I am going to have it more as a slideshow than a full-on movie as it is difficult to get him in the exact same position, and with the same facial expressions. If I were to make it with each picture as a frame then it would just turn into mush. However, I think the effect of a slide show will accomplish what I want just fine.
Right now I plan to keep it up for his first year. So when I am done the slide show will have him growing from newborn (Day 0) to 1 year old (Day 365). Although if I manage to keep up with the project that long I might want to keep it going...
I am going to have it more as a slideshow than a full-on movie as it is difficult to get him in the exact same position, and with the same facial expressions. If I were to make it with each picture as a frame then it would just turn into mush. However, I think the effect of a slide show will accomplish what I want just fine.
Right now I plan to keep it up for his first year. So when I am done the slide show will have him growing from newborn (Day 0) to 1 year old (Day 365). Although if I manage to keep up with the project that long I might want to keep it going...
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