beyond the blunderbuss

First there was the mace. Then there was the blunderbuss. Now, we introduce this entirely new product that goes above and beyond the blunderbuss!

Gasp as it fires projectiles… in 25 different preset directions… in 4 dimensions! Be amazed as it cuts through your enemies like water on the rocks! Stare as it revolutionizes warfare with a fresh, minty sent. With a fully automated bore hole 15 barleycorns across, and a full 6 shaftments in length, it is capable of sending up to 0xF 7 caliber projectiles per second per barrel for up to 60 minuets per magazine. But it does so much more than just decimate your foes, it does your laundry, quickly and efficiently sorting colours from the whites! It can store up two a weeks worth of nutritious rations, and is capable of grinding three of the five most popular cereal grains (sorghums, barley and wheat). It can even bake breads, pies, cakes, Danish pastries, a variety of other pastries, and homunculi. It comes with 6 standard airbags, a fully loaded v12 400 horsepower engine, with a 2 hogshead gas tank, capable of getting up to 9 chains per butt, and can hit a top speed of five furlongs per fortnight. All this power allows it to convert up to 10 non-believers an hour, without need of a human operator. It can bet the mechanical Turk at chess, and checkers. It can translate, and transliterate, between five languages of your choosing. With an easy to use knob driven interface, all you have to do to operate it is follow the onscreen instructions. The software is clear and simple to understand, and can be used by a complete technical novice. It even comes with standard leather seats, so you, the customer, can cruse in style.

No other product offers so many features, or as much comfort, for such a low price! Buy one now and receive another half off.*

*Offer only valid in the united states of America, excluding the state of hawai’i, Ca’nada, excluding the province of Quebec.

what we have come to.

we have a "guest" story this time frame. this is the public domain piece "what we have come to" by Lord Dunsany.

When the advertiser saw the cathedral spires over the downs in the distance, he looked at them and wept.

"If only," he said, "this were an advertisement of Beefo, so nice, so nutritious, try it in your soup, ladies like it."


prliminary novella idea

jack the ripper.
Set in late 1800’s England. Jack the ripper is killing prostitutes. Our main character is either a bystander or a detective (or a combination of the two). If bystander he will be a butcher. If detective s/he will either be laid off for being a crazy conspiracy theorist, or on par with Sherlock holms. I could use Sherlock Holmes (it is in the public domain).

The main character will be earth a random bystander or a detective. They will uncover a clue, and ultimately figure out a clue that leads him/her to find a killer. After an interrogation, they discover it was multiple men. S/he track them down, and finds that they are all agents of the government. As time goes on, they uncover a governmental conspiracy. We will find that the prostitutes are either aliens or spy’s (or maby alien spies …from Russia).

note this is a preliminary idea, it may or may not be accepted, and will probably be changed. other possibilities included following deaf people in nineteenth century america. i may yet find a way to include aliens...

while I furtively compile my next article, I leave you to ponder why hooded sweatshirts don't come with hoods on both sides. I still haven't figured it out. if you think the answer is "because it would obscure your face" wear one backwards, then answer again.


a languishing mind is a horrable thing

“oh dear lord in heaven” cried the book binder.
“oh hear my cry” he gasped in despair, for he had mercury poisoning.
Rewind 24 hours
The book binder who would soon be writhing around on the floor, gasping his final breaths, went to work. He started by printing paper, and then he bound the paper into little leaflets, and pressed them together, and glued them to cloth, and added covers, and then hand illuminated the covers, and wrote no them in gold leaf, and then dusted the sides of the paper with golden paint, and doted all of the i’s with diamonds, and set rubies and sapphires into the spine, and set a border around the title in diamonds, and emeralds, and rubies and other precious stones, for he was the best bookbinder in the land, and he was making a tome that would be unparalleled thought the land. As he worked, he was watched, watched by a little pixie.
Rewind 24 more hours
the pixie, by the name of sir maldrich had finished poking the good sir maltrich, when suddenly he was stricken by boredom, so much so, that he stopped flaying, bounced off of a pig, and landed in a bucket of muck. The pig was not hurt. This did nothing to ease his boredom. He tried rolling around in the muck. When this failed, he decided to to torment who ever had the most boring job he could find. After 30 minuets of searching, he found the book binder.
Fast forward about 48 hours.
The book binder died, in a pool of glue ,in the floor, under a table, in his workshop, in a land, a magical land, about a mile away from the client who had ordered his master piec, which lay on the table above the boo binder’s body, wdich lay unfinished, missing a single jewel. As this was a magical land, this was a magical tome. This tome would, once completed grant any one who touched it immortality. The pixie did not know this, so he laughed, his mind re invigorated, and he flew away with a twinkle in his mischievous eye.



All the people of the land of gelp love chocolate. All of them. All of the people down at the market knew this, and the made the best chocolate in the land. This made the people happy, and the kept buying the chocolate that the candy guild made.

Then there was the candy man. He was not a jolly candy maker, but was a vile, despicable person. Rather than make real candy, he made fake candy, like mocklate. No one liked his candy, and no one bought his candy. This made him bitter, and cruel. One day he hatched an evil plan.

A few weeks later, queen mauve was eating her chocolate. Something was wrong. She couldn’t quite place it. It was greasy, and didn’t taste right, and didn’t melt the way chocolate was supposed to. She didn’t really know why, but this wasn’t good chocolate, but she didn’t let that bother her. She was not alone. All throughout the land of gelp, people found their chocolate to be bad. Some complained. Most just shrugged and went about their day.

Slowly, the rate of heart attacks went up. And slowly, the national average for obesity went up to. Kids got fatter, adults got fatter, and across every age and demographic group, more people died. Soon the entire land of gelp went from its cheery self, to a pallid and sickly people, bereft of laughter.

As this worsened, more people died, until the crops where unattended, and cows just died in their fields, feral cats roamed across the land, and travelers hurried along, eager do get to the next town, and many avoided the land of gelp entirely. After a few years, the only surviving woman in the land of gelp died. All that was left was a ghost town, through which no one traveled, nor even set foot in for a thousand years.

What was the candied man’s eldritch plan? He replaced all of the chocolate with mocklate. All he had to do wall give the candy makers hydrogenated oils instead of coco butter to reak havoc on the town. Fortunetly, this will never happen, as the candied man never formulates his mischievous plan, and the land of gelp remained a merry and happy place for many milenia.

Unfortunaly, this is happening in America. For those of you who don’t live in America, you can tune out for the rest of this post, for those who do, take notes! The F.D.A., who regulates what can be called, and thus sold as, chocolate. They are considering changing the deffanition of chocolate to no longer require coco butter to make. While I don’t consider the land of gelp to be an allegory for the united states, this very well could happen to us! DO NOT LET THE F.D.A. MESS WITH OUR CHOCOLATE!!!! Contact them right now! just follow this link to comlane directly to the F.D.A. or click here to learn more.

for the sake of your chocolate, you country, the people you love, all that is good and holy in the world, and you god(s)(if chocolate is not one of them) tell the F.D.A. to relax the restrictions on our chocolate! do not delay!!!


earth day.

it's earth day today. while i don't plan on doing anything today (i am swamped with homework) i do plan on doing something tomorrow (it has just as many 24 hours).

in the mean time, i post a new linky regarding earthday. enjoy!

just weird.

one wonders where they got the MRI machine to do this. let me make sure I'm not the only one thinking this, but those are expensive.


the land of gelp becomes (5*10-7)º off

One of the many problems confronting queen mauve in the land of gelp was tilting. The town boasted it’s straightness. It was perfectly perpendicular, and won several awards for it. But one day that all changed.

On a Thursday in late summer, the town angle measurer woke up early. He had had a hard time sleeping. He crawled out of bed, and dragged himself into the kitchen where he ate an egg and some toast. When he was done, he brushed his teeth, donned a jacket and went to work. He measured the castle, but it was off by a third of a degree. He checked it again. Still off by 5*10-7 degrees. Then he checked the ground around the castle. Also off 5*10-7 degrees. He checked the shops, they were of by 5*10-7 degrees. Then he began to panic. He ran around measuring all of the land of gelp. No matter where he went, it was always 5*10-7 degrees off of the perpendicular. He didn’t know what to do.

In lue of a better option, the town angle measurer panicked. He panicked of better part of an hour. When he was done, he had another egg. Hard boiled. It was perfect, just the right hardness, with a light and fluffy youlk, and not even the slightest tinge of grey. He decided to tell the queen.

Just outside of the queens throne room, the town angle measurer steeled himself. He stepped inside.

He was thrown off by the shear amount of pink.

“Wow” he said.

“do you like how I redecorated?” asked the queen.

“Its very pink” noted the angle measurer.

“yes it is. Did you come for a reason or did you come to comment on my pink room of world renown?” she inquired.

At this, the town angle measurer broke down. “o! my fair queen, a thousand apologies for burdening you heart with such a tragic turn of events, o! woeful day! The town is 5*10-7 degrees off of perpendicular!”

“who is responsible for this?” shouted the queen.

“I know not, my liege, I shall begin an inquire at once!” he resolved. He strode forth from the throne room and went strait to the knight-detective Amiagug. Amiagug called several assistants, and the assistants called friends, and those friends called friends, and soon the entire land of gelp was in an uproar.

The knight-detective Amiagug set to work immediate after that. After a long and complicated process that only he seamed to understand, the knight-detective Amiagug strode to the northern border of the land of gelp, right up to the mountains of terror, and there he found the candied man.

The candied man tried to make the knight-detective Amiagug go away, but he remained undeterred. When the knight-detective Amaigug finaly sidestepped the candied man, he found a stack of small chocolate mints holding the town up. The knight detective Amaigug removed the three mints, and the town was back to normal again.

writers notes:
5*10-7 is scientific notation for 0.0000005. +10 points to anyone who can figure out how long the land of gelp is form south to north if the mints used where .5 cm tall. (the approximate hight of an andes mint . originally the town was going to be off by .3 degrees, but this would take 29.9995 m of mints, or about 3140 mints (note: I make a mistake on this math, so don't use this to find the length of the land of gelp). after much deliberation, I decided on this.

free information and alphabet soup.

so, the reason I write to this blog is because I believe in free information. I believe we cannot own thoughts, concepts etc. now, that is easy to say when you are the one getting the free movies, songs, and books, but harder when you write those movies, songs, and books. as mahatma Gandhi said "you must be the change you wish to see in the world." so here i am, writing and creating information, and making it free. you can do what ever you want, I would prefer that you credit me, and someday I would like to get paid for what I do. in the mean time, I'm fine with supporting a philosophy I agree with, in the best way one can.

for these reasons, I would like to thank, and encourage NBC, CBS, and fox, along with any other networks that are putting their shows online for free. it's not high-quality video, and the pirated versions are better (or so I hear), and you can't redistribute them, but it is a start. it is a step on a road that will lead to a better world. I will be providing links to them in the coming days, I encourage you to visit them, and buy from their sponsors, as showing that this business model works will help this cause.


an experiment

i am eager to try out a new html tag (or to learn it at all.)

my experiment failed utterly.

story to follow.


warning: expletive.

i am combining all swear words into one über-swearword!



my house

Astute readers/listeners of a verity of blogs / podcasts will have noticed that a group of people:
1 stated live near each other, and
2 live in the Puget sound area.
3 I am one of those people.

Not very helpful for hopeful stalkers. I, of course, support all hobbies so long as they don’t hurt any one in any way, so I decided to tell you a bit about my house.

I live in an under ground volcano. Not just under the ground, or on a volcano, or even under a volcano (like many evil creatures and people. It is too cliché). No, I live in an underground volcano, as in the volcano is under ground , and I live in it.

Now, you may be asking yourself, how does he live in an underground volcano, is he not human. The I am indeed human, and I can live under my volcano because the volcano is special. See, my volcano, rather than giving off sulfurous gasses or noxious fumes, bubbles oxygen, with a bit of nitrogen, helium and hydrogen, with small traces of other elements, with minimal contaminants. that’s right, air. In fact it is even purer than the air that is available above ground.

The next question I’m sure you have is, how does he see. Well, there are tow answers, the first is rather mundane (for a volcano), the magma is so hot, it emits a red glow. The other half is another thing that makes my volcano special. There are many, oh so many, glowing fungi, that populate the walls and roof of my enormous cavern. They are much like stars, only brighter, and the fade completely, without being replaced by a sun, every twelve hours or so. For indoor locations (not the enormous cavern), the rocks glow, but only in the presence of outside air, all I have to do is close the windows and the rocks stop glowing.

And the third question that I know that you are burning to ask (my prognostication skills are paying off. For those of you who say that you where not burning to ask this question, know this: you where in your subconscious). How do I get to the surface to buy groceries? Well, I do not actually need groceries, see, across the lake of magma, there is a farm, run by a nice old man named mr. jib. He provides me with a wide variety of foods, some from above ground, and some that only grow below the surface. In return, I give him special rocks that only I know how to find. Despite this, I still need to go to the surface every now and again, and for this, I us an old lava tube. I am lifted up, and lowered down by a couple of mystical, and ancient, rabbits, the two Easter bunnies of world renown. They are not available for this service on the day leading up to Easter, so you will have to spelunk a mile down to see me. I advise waiting.

(as for the thing about stalkers, I am not really that fond of them. Please, if you are a stalker, only stalk small animals, and only long enough to tap them on the head with a small stick, then run away.)

historical novella: introduction.

in english class we are starting an assignment that last until the end of the year (which is decided by the movement of the clouds and other weather patterns that even my advanced knowledge of prognostication methods has yet to decipher, let alone mere mortals). we are to write a novella 20-25 pages in length, and it must be set in or before World War 2. partly to provide content, and partly to keep me honest about doing this assignment, i am going to post every step i take regarding this. with any luck, by the end of the year i will have written a novel for your enjoyment.

the only thing i ask here is that any content that comes off of this wait until august to reproduce, just so that i can be done with it. i also encourage comment on what i am doing good and bad on, and i have permission to use them to help my project.

in other news, rachel, from the blog are you awake? just yelled at me for telling her how to close her HTML tags (she claims that she already knew...). and i am going to start sailing, so expect more nautical terms in my writing (jib, vang, and bilg) extra credit to the first person i don't know who can name all of the terms i just listed.

those air fresheners

so, my mom bought a two pack of "pumpkin spice" flavored (yes, flavored, i'll get into that) air fresheners. so, i strapped one into my backpack ant went to school. while i waited in the library for school to start (still waiting, by the the way, some kids have to take the Washington Assessment of Student Learning or WASL) i pulled the bag off, and nearly everyone died. it was overpoweringly strong(thus the "flavored"). so, we concocted a plan to rob a store.

1 just buy 30 or forty trees, take of the bags, put them into a large plastic zip-lock style bag, and walk into a store.
2 put on gas mask.
3 pull out all of the air fresheners, and break them in half, and through like they are grenades.
4 when every one goes unconscious, loot the store.


a picture of me

it occurs to me that i have not yet posted a picture of my self so that you know what i look like. so here it is!


a new story would be up, but my brother stole the lappy it was on. it will be up tommarrow.

in other news...

i will be participating in the day of silence day tomarrow, wednessday the 18 of april 2007. with any luck, i won't actualy say anything all day.


i made this little sticker this mourning. it says "i love little severin" based off of frank key's little severin the mystic badger.


Queen mauve learns to fly.

Once upon a time there was a queen named queen mauve, and she was the reigning monarch in all the land of gelp. She had no husband, so she was all alone. She ruled over the people fairly, and was liked by all. If ever there was a schism between two or more political parties in the land of gelp, queen mauve would figure out a suitable middle ground. One day, she decided that the mass transportation system needed an overhaul. She then listened to her top advisers, her not top advisers, several experts on the topic, a couple of u.s. senators, the heads of the various political parties, and many of the people on the street. After a long and arduous process, she had narrowed her options to three.

The first option was to build a viaduct. The second option was to use trains. The third and final option was to use busses, and allocate roads that only the busses could use. She tried to figure which one to use. She asked her top advisors, but they were split between the three, so were her not top advisers, and all the experts on the topic, the u.s. senators, and the heads of the political parties. After a long pause she decided to put it up to a vote open to the general public. When all the votes had bean counted, and re counted, re voted due to allegations of election fraud, lost, found, re-written on to red pieces of paper rather than blue, and then counted again, the population was still divided equally between the three. All the people in the land waited to hear her answer, so she went into a quite and empty room, sat on the ground

Just then, leprechaun materialized and told her that he would grant her one wish. she asked “why are you a leprechaun and not a genii?”

“genies give you three wishes, I only give you one” he explained, somewhat exasperated.

“yes, but why do I only get one wish” “she inquired.

“because I am a leprechaun.” He reiterated.

“why are you a leprechaun?” she queried.

“because of my mom.” He said, somewhat abashed.

Queen mauve gave up trying to find out why she had bean sent a leprechaun and not a genii. She thought long and hard about what to wish for. She thought of the problems besetting her people, war, famine, and droughts. She thought of he personal problems, her brother, her lack of husband and many other things. Then she said.

“I want to learn how to fly!”

and the leprechaun waved his arms around in the air and said so magical words, and disappeared. Queen mauve leapt over to the giant four poster bed and tore of a bed sheet. She ran to the balcony, and stood very still, holding the bed sheet over he head. after a second, she adjusted her grip so that her hands where three quarters of the way between the corners, on the long end, and so the majority trailed out behind her. Then she jumped into the air, and the bed sheet lifted he away and she flew around the city.

When she landed, she went back inside, folded up the bead sheet, issued forth from the room she had bean in, and addressed her people, for she had made a diccision.

what actualy happend

so, as it turns out my prognostication methods need a lot of fine tuning. not only was i wrong about yesterday's story, but i was wrong about my english essay. i got it done with only a couple of hours work, around 13:00 local time (21:00 GMT)(no story because mario distracted me. he started it). it 'twas a piece of pastry/confection. if it was a pastry, it would not be a vegan pastry, it has to have eggs. unless of course it was designed to be vegan (my preferences, vegans can eat what they want), but if it is supposed to have eggs, then it will have eggs. same with milk. and no skimping on the milk/creem. if it is supposed to have cream, no nonfat creme, it must have creme, no exceptions. if you are dieting, just eat a little less. as the old axiom goes, if it's worth doing, it's worth doing right. and as for confection, mass produced is ok, but it had better be a good product. i mean if it is worth only a piece of confection, it had better be a good confection, because i am not going on a diet any time soon.

hopefully my prognostication method will work this time. i switched over from intense concentration and self reflection (used for last predictions made) and made it intense study of my surroundings, cross-referenced with past experience, and by date of birth, chinese zodiac sign (monkey), the positions of the stars when i was born, bird calls, omens, tea leaves (replaced with coffee dregs, i am not overly fond of tea), spoke coming off of a fire, and \ cryptic windows error messages. with any luck, my predictions will be more accurate.


how to keep your locker god happy

as it turns out, my prognostication methods need some fine tuning. i dug up this old piece i wrote in or around september.

In all lockers there dwells a god. Not a large god, and not a god for monotheists, but a god nonetheless. This god’s form changes according to the beliefs of the locker user. This god can be male, female, or none of the above.

This god owns the locker. There is a different god for each locker. Your godly beliefs and favors will travel with you, be nice to you seventh grade god, and, just like karma, you r deeds will automatically travel to your next locker god.

Your locker god should be kept happy. Talking to it, or leave it offerings will accomplish this. Happiness on the part of you god is beneficial to you. When your god is happy, it will spread its happiness to other gods. These gods could be god, the gods of you grades, or paycheck, or any other deity or demigod who may be near by, in cosmic terms. The gods of you grades (or paycheck) dwell wherever grades (or paycheck) are kept, regardless of the system, computes, file cabinets, and all the rest are under their purvey. when happy, the gods of your grades/paycheck they keep might “accidentally” change your grades/paycheck up a percent or two.

Offerings to your locker god can be anything that will fit in that locker. The offering should be of some value to you, but does not have to be a sacrifice. Hand made offerings are preferable, as it shows you put some time and effort into your god and shows that you must like it. Don’t put to much stuff in your locker, not even deities like clutter. Change you offerings every so often. Let the god appreciate it, then swap out the old stuff with now stuff. Be creative! Gods get hungry, so feed them. Food can be either healthy meals, or candies (chocolate is good). Change the food every week or so, when the god is done eating it.

schedule (to be pronounced the brittish way)

well, spring break is ending. i have today (saturday) and tomorrow (sunday) to write a paper, and a script for a commercial in spanish. i promise that the final versions (with subtitles for the second one) will be posted here. the commercial should be rather surreal if i have any say in the matter. so, expect little scribbling for the next couple of days.

it will be interesting to see how a school schedule will help/hinder my writing. on one hand, it will give me a schedule where i know when i will sit down and get it done, on the other hand, it will make me busy and give me less time to write/blag.

well, i can hear my english essay calling.

zlotnian calculator

i own a fine zlotnian calculator. truely a wanderfull invention, and has saved me many a time in math club. no true mathamatician is complete without one.

according to my reaserch, the company responsible for brining such a vital impliment into classrooms and machematicians pockets is keuffel and esser co. while this majestic calculator's history remains a bit of an enigma, i continue to use it on a daily basis, and encourage you to as well. not a day goes by when i do not thank my lucky stars for such a gift. these paltry words cannot come close to expressing my gratitude for such a revolutionary device.

thank you keuffel and esser co.!


The basketball in the pond.

Hark! O’er yonder hill! There is a pond! A pond! A pond with sludge!

Sang the children.

But not billy pep. For billy pep was mute. This did not please his teatures. They would poke and prod use behavioral modification. But to no avail. He just sat by the pond, and
Didn’t sing and didn’t sing. And didn’t sing.

One day, one beautiful, blue day, he was sitting in a basketball court, and a basketball bludgeoned him on the head. He arose, shouted for joy, picked up the basketball and threw it in the pond with the sludge.

Then he cried:

“and lo, I speak oh joyous day. It has bean many a year that I have gone without a word!”

and thus little billy pep learned to talk.

new stories later. i might also publish some old notebooks (maybe as far back as 2003)

a quick distraction

so, i recently apeared under my pseudoname, "ja'son" on jeremy's podcast.

no, a quick little shoutout, i would like to thank my first reader, that i know of, who was not a friend of mine! w00t!
addmittedly, i was chastised for my spelling of hooting yard "hooting yand" you can find a link on the side of this page. over there.

what's that, you can't find it?

well you're not looking hard enough!

fine, it's over there in the corner. look, if you're that incompatent, you should go back to school. i know it's not fun, i go there too. seriously, i do. look, if you still can't find it, i'll come over to your house and help you, if you pay for it.

anywhay, a new story thing will be up soon.


"it is an army bread for a single purpose: to destroy the world of men"


60 hours

so, i didn't tell you yesterday when it was that i got to sleep. i apologize for this. se, i didn't get to sleep 'till 21:00 local (5:00 gmt) and had bean awake for over 60 hours. at this point i had gotten a call from a friend , without remembering it. so, you can immagine why i didn't tell my devout readers. ah well...

anyway, i stayed up for 60 hours!! without caffine!!! w00t!!!!!


48 hours

i have successfully stayed awake for 48 hours, without caffeine. this facade started at 6:10 on friday, and i officially reached this landmark at 6:10 on sunday.

what i have learned.
1, there is little programing on any channel
2) those channels with programing, it is rarely good.
c; one of the most frequent commercials (for those channels that actually have programing) advertise various sleep medication/insomnia cures.
4 everything is several times funnier after the fist 30 hours of so.
00101, night time is harder than day time regardless of how long you have bean awake.
6. mindless tasks should be left for nighttime. e.g. watching t.v, leave something more sophisticated like reading a book for later in the day.
g, the twilight zone is a really good show.

i will continue to stay awake at all hours for a while. i will tell you when i finally go to bed.


Aki Inoue bravely goes to the land of the meat-beings.

It was 5:40 in the morning, and Shoda Flempkensop had bean awake since 6:00 the previous day. He was having hardest time downloading a copy of Revenge of the Mutant Camels for his Macintosh. He sighed.
“you just can’t get quality games anymore” he whispered to the cat sitting on the couch.
The cat yawned an stretched, then got up and went somewhere else. Shoda paid her little interest. Though this was a great mistake, had shoda followed the cat, he would have discovered a great many things, some of which may help him in the near future. But he did not. Fortunately, we do.

As our heroine of this story, aki inoue, leapt onto the windowsill, and slipped out of a crack in the masonry. She traveled behind the dumpsters, and found a small portal. She entered. She walked out the other side. This new world was full of strange and wonderful things, otherworldly things, cube-ish things and spherical things and mostly purple things. Aki did not like this strange new world. It made her hair stand on end and was rather unnerving. So he sat still and chewed on a piece of reed that she had brought with her. After a while, a rather meaty thing slithered over to her. It spoke. It spoke gibberish. It tried writing. Fortunately for aki, and fortunately for the meat-being, she could interpret such a glagolitic script. She then wrote on the ground before her, and the meat-being understood. And they conversed thusly for many hours, and their writings covered all the ground, many of the walls, and some of the air around the portal. The meat-being slithered away, and Aki sidled back through the portal, out from behind the dumpster, back into the house through the crack in the masonry, and sat on the now asleep Shoda’s lap, knowing that she had saved the world from another disaster.

cactus wood staff.

I have a cactus wood staff. It is a quiet beatific piece of cactus wood, al mottled brown and black with a nice grip. A truly marvelous piece of work. Its long, wield, and sometimes violent history stands as a testament to its workmanship. Such a wonderful story cannot go untold, and thus I spent many years of my life working on it, only now to have bean completed.

As far as I can tell, this marvelous came from a cactus of the Carnegiea gigantean variety2, that was sprouted in or about 1738 in a small area just southeast of where Tucson, Arizona is today. It grew in about as much peace as a cactus in a desert can expect until a fateful day in about 1812 when it contracted a disease of unknown origin. Sometime in the winter 1818 I died and by the summer of 1819 all of its flesh had rotted away, leaving only the wooden bones. These bones where collected by a Christian missionary named father Mitchelson, and taken back to his home. Mitchelson was a woodworker of high renown in those days, and was considered to be the best carver in the entire southwest. This is strongly backed up by some of his previous pieces which include an eagle on a rainy day, flag of our grandsons, depicting a United states flag with 51 stars on it, and my very favorite piece, a flange of unparalleled wonder and compose. This new piece that Father Mitchelson had planned to hew out of his piece of cactus wood was supposed to put him on the map, and assure that he would be considered the best woodworker in all the land. He had planned to carve his piece of wood into a staff of such marvel, of such astounding grandeur that it would confound and amaze even the most skilled of woodworkers for generations to come.

But alas, this endeavor was, unfortunately, fated not to be completed as planed. The next morning the omens started to show themselves. First he saw a pigeon perched atop a cow, a rare occurrence considering pigeons do not reside in the southwest. Un daunted by this, Father Mitchelson started to whittle and sand and do the other various magical things that champion woodworkers did in the early nineteenth century. Having made the staff into its rough shape, he ate some soup, and retired for the day. Father Mitchelson awoke the next day and began to work. At noon that day, a group of bloodthirsty, malevolent bandits, wholly ignorant of art pillaged their way through town. After robbing the bank and the tavern, they proceded to ride off into the sunset. Unfortunately for father Mitchelson, his house lay between the town and the sunset. As the past, firing their guns into the air, they came upon his shack. The shot him dead, and ransacked the place. t’was a horrid day for the of the art of woodworking.

And so the stay passed into the hands of Father Mitchelson’s nephew, Bartholemew. Or, at least it was supposed to. Back in those days the post took years to travel the country, and in that time a great many calamities happened. Bartholemew was a blacksmith by trade and a candle maker by preference.

And so one day, bartholemew was eating his dinner, and a messenger came in.

“speak” he said.

“sirrah, I have a parcel for your convenience.” Said the messenger.

“thank you, now begon!” said bartholemew.

Never beaing one for waiting, bartholemew tore off the paper, and fond:
A letter, informing him of his fathers death.
The protostaff.
A page of an encyclopedia
And a chocolate bar.

Bartholomew ate the chocolate bar while he read the letter. Then he sprange and shouted:

“oh dear! Oh woe is me! My uncle is dead! Oh terrible day!”

from here, the reacord stops. I know very little about the staffs history, however, we do know that it was in at least one war, was carved by a monk, and spent a day at the bottom of a lake. I purchased it in a pawn shop, for a grand total of $5.

With luck, more research will reveal the mystery that enfolds this wonderful object.

that door

it has bean a little while since i last posted. here is a short (and bad) piece. i might make it better some time.

Have you seen that door down the hall?
Well then, you had better go and see it.
You don’t know how?
Well it’s simple, just get up from your computer where you have planted your back side and stride out your front door. Once there walk 17 steps out until you reach your mailbox. You might need to take shorter or longer steps depending on the distance. For those whose mailbox is a while away, you may need to drive your car to get there. Once you have reached your mailbox, turn left and go that way for a block. Then turn due south and walk until you find a cheep motel. Walk inside of the motel. Buy a room and go into it. Look around for a while and deposit any bags you may have brought with you. Then go into the hall, turn right and go to the door down the hall.

I’ll wait for you.

Ok, now that you are here, you’ll want to open the door.
What’s that? It locked?
Well then, it is a simple matter of getting the key out from under the doormat.
It’s not there you say?
Well you will have to demonstrate your proficiency as a lockpick.
Once on the other side of the door, make sure you have locked it behind you. Continue forward amongst all of the pipes and laundry baskets until you reach a small garden. Somewhere to your left will be the entrance to a hedge maze, which you will have to navigate it in order to get to the center. You will now be in front of a small cherubic statute. Touch its nose to open a portal. Boldly step inside to access your treasure.

You are now rich beyond your imaginations, as you have discovered the lair of tralb, the dragon.


my desk

this is a wonderful picture of my desk.

if you look closely, you will find:
my laptop, a second screen for it, a second computer (rarely used), a copy of the qua'ran (spelled koran), a bunch of coins (susan b anthony 1 dollar coins), a piccolo case, several pairs of dice, a sand garden (hidden, but there), a stack of CD's, lip balm, a bunch of pencils, a power strip, a pack of mints, a case full of optical prisms, a purple platypus plushie, a box set of sci-fi dvd's of questionable quality, my wallet (made of duck tape), a retainer case, a canadian flag (gotta have patriotism for more than one country so i can flee to either as necessary), a bunch of peeps from last years easter (left in open for a year and still light and fluffy), blue sharpie, a nine volt battery (complete with LED light fixture) several SD memory cards of varying size, a cell phone (bereft of case) and a paper cup where i put lentil beans that still liter my desk and surrounding floor.

you get 1 point for each item found and 10 extra credit points for finding them all. i recommend opening the picture in another window so as to make it larger

with any luck it will eventually be cleared enough so that i can work by candle light, like my forefathers. most likely this will happen when the sands of time run dry, the earth shakes, and the four horsemen of the apocalypse reign their terror upon us.