Cylvia, Ron, Zack, or any other idiot I know longer remember who had this, and gave me the slim chance to find it: thank you. I want to beat the shit out of you for putting it there and letting it get damaged by the weather, but thank you.
PS: To either of the Washington "Maidens" : Saturday's complication has been moved to Sunday. If you're bored, feel free. I might not react immediately, but I promise to call back as soon as I can. I won't be available to harass on Sunday, though.
PSS: I don't really like the idea of that floating around longer than I can help it. Since the princess can see what I've written even after I've deleted it, I don't see any reason to keep it up there.
Friday, April 13, 2012
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Pathological Cannibalistic Serial Goat Killer.
I've settled on a name that isn't entirely pulled out of my ass: Azazel Zlogonje. Still perfectly peculiar, yet both are actual, legitimately used names. Hurrah. Kind of sad I didn't think of using Azazel until I started digging around, as his entire character emanates him. Making his name a reference just feels more appropriate in this case.
Also, I have deemed it appropriate to give him narcolepsy. Narcolepsy can, in rare cases, result in psychosis due to sleep deprivation. That, and I find the idea of a random cannibalistic goat murderer spontaneously and contently falling asleep while gnawing on someone's leg delightful. :D
This also means I can give him a minor variation of a side-effect of narcolepsy called cataplexy, so that when he gets too emotional, the muscles in his face lax, making him have a really messed up droopy expression and an inability to talk properly while he rages after goats.
Dear god, I'm having way too much fun with this guy.
Also, I have deemed it appropriate to give him narcolepsy. Narcolepsy can, in rare cases, result in psychosis due to sleep deprivation. That, and I find the idea of a random cannibalistic goat murderer spontaneously and contently falling asleep while gnawing on someone's leg delightful. :D
This also means I can give him a minor variation of a side-effect of narcolepsy called cataplexy, so that when he gets too emotional, the muscles in his face lax, making him have a really messed up droopy expression and an inability to talk properly while he rages after goats.
Dear god, I'm having way too much fun with this guy.
Saturday, April 7, 2012
The hell, man. The hell.
Where in the hell did I hear this song, when did I hear it, and why in robotic teddy-bear sex is it in my head now? I had to hunt it down just to figure out what it was.
Seriously, you sardonic brain; At least put songs in my head I actually remember hearing before.
Seriously, you sardonic brain; At least put songs in my head I actually remember hearing before.
Monday, March 26, 2012
Cotton.
I'll probably send the more interesting dreams to Ophie exclusively - because I'm a meanie and I can - but I shall share the thoroughly pointless ones here!
Cotton explains the entire dream.
I was stuck in a super-ultra-giant cotton-ball, and spent the entire dream trying to fight my way out of said super-ultra-giant cotton-ball.
The blanket has been usurped in the game of stupid-things-that-I-get-stuck-in, apparently. Wonderful.
Just wonderful.
Cotton explains the entire dream.
I was stuck in a super-ultra-giant cotton-ball, and spent the entire dream trying to fight my way out of said super-ultra-giant cotton-ball.
The blanket has been usurped in the game of stupid-things-that-I-get-stuck-in, apparently. Wonderful.
Just wonderful.
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Pissy pissy little lady.
I feel asleep today! Wooo-hoo! Naps are wonderful things. It means I don't have to sleep tonight. Hehe.
Of course, the first dream I can remember, and it happened to be Mariko. Heh. I was hoping for one of my weirder, world-conceptualizing dreams I can use to play with ideas. Haven't had one of those in a while, and the last idea I wanted to play with I lost my typed record of that dream. Still annoyed by that. >>;
I still need to find a new name for "Mariko." It feels like Mariko, but I only ever really saw a fragment of her anyhow, so even if it was a perfect replica from the Mariko I've gotten used to, it doesn't mean it's even a decent replica of Mariko herself. It's just bothersome to call her "Mariko."
Ivory, at least, never stayed around long enough for me to be worried about her. Or at least, not around me long enough. One visit, a cautiously formal greeting, a few hours wandering around my lovely half-destroyed orange town, and then a cautiously formal farewell. ( Well, okay, not entirely. Ivory expressed something to the effect of "Your place is strange" to me when she was getting ready to leave, and while I don't recall exactly how I retorted, but I know I reacted a little bit more defensively than I normally would have, which seemed to earn me a raised eyebrow. Well, not a physically raised eyebrow, but it sure felt like Ivory raised a metaphorical brow at me. You know what I mean. Or not. Whatever. )
Mariko and I tend to share a kind of bonding that's common with a lot of the guys I'm used to. By that, I mean that most of our time is spent figuring out new ways to insult each other in the most colorful ways we can pull out of our asses at the time. She reacts to some of the oddest of comments. One of the odder ones she reacted to had been when we were playing checkers, I called her a "fire-breathing jellybean." She gave me a long look, captured one of my pieces, threw it at my eye, and demanded I get her some trail mix. The entire trail mix bit through me off too much to retaliate to her assault. Which might have been the point, as she's never eaten any of the snacks set out by gods-know-who when we play. The only thing she's ever eaten at my odd dimension was roasted field mice, which she declared so miraculously burnt that it could potentially cause a volcano to vomit.
She's a sweet girl, that one.
This time around, however, she hardly glanced at me. We tend to play a lot of boardgames - namely Chinese checkers and Baduk, both being games she tends to destroy me at - so we don't actually talk a lot. In fact, outside of insulting each other, we really don't speak to each other at all. However, there's a sort of mutual recognition in playing a board-game together, and normally we both allow ourselves to give the game our full attention.
She was pissy this visit. Not to me, exactly, because she wouldn't even react to my attempts at light jabbing. She seemed... Frustrated? It was almost on the level of disgust with something or another. She just kept bickering under her breath too quietly for me to hear any actual words. She also played the game of Baduk pretty poorly. Maybe I have far worse spacial reasoning skills than I'd like to admit, but I'm bad at that game, no matter how fascinating I find it. She normally eviscerates me at it. However, even I managed to win a game against the distracted Mariko by three points.
She stopped mumbling to herself after that, though she still seemed extremely agitated. Eventually, I had to accept that she wasn't exactly "all there," and fell back on the card game War, which is blissfully brainless, and just watched as she fumed internally. She doesn't really show anger on her face - she's pretty good at pulling off the blank expression - but her eyes showed that she seemed to be trying to invent new explicit profanities.
TL;DR Had a dream with Mariko in it. She was mad about something, and pretended I wasn't there despite having shown up in my own dream. Heh. Wish that was the first time, but it's the first time she seemed so thoroughly pissed off. It was kind of bemusing.
Of course, the first dream I can remember, and it happened to be Mariko. Heh. I was hoping for one of my weirder, world-conceptualizing dreams I can use to play with ideas. Haven't had one of those in a while, and the last idea I wanted to play with I lost my typed record of that dream. Still annoyed by that. >>;
I still need to find a new name for "Mariko." It feels like Mariko, but I only ever really saw a fragment of her anyhow, so even if it was a perfect replica from the Mariko I've gotten used to, it doesn't mean it's even a decent replica of Mariko herself. It's just bothersome to call her "Mariko."
Ivory, at least, never stayed around long enough for me to be worried about her. Or at least, not around me long enough. One visit, a cautiously formal greeting, a few hours wandering around my lovely half-destroyed orange town, and then a cautiously formal farewell. ( Well, okay, not entirely. Ivory expressed something to the effect of "Your place is strange" to me when she was getting ready to leave, and while I don't recall exactly how I retorted, but I know I reacted a little bit more defensively than I normally would have, which seemed to earn me a raised eyebrow. Well, not a physically raised eyebrow, but it sure felt like Ivory raised a metaphorical brow at me. You know what I mean. Or not. Whatever. )
Mariko and I tend to share a kind of bonding that's common with a lot of the guys I'm used to. By that, I mean that most of our time is spent figuring out new ways to insult each other in the most colorful ways we can pull out of our asses at the time. She reacts to some of the oddest of comments. One of the odder ones she reacted to had been when we were playing checkers, I called her a "fire-breathing jellybean." She gave me a long look, captured one of my pieces, threw it at my eye, and demanded I get her some trail mix. The entire trail mix bit through me off too much to retaliate to her assault. Which might have been the point, as she's never eaten any of the snacks set out by gods-know-who when we play. The only thing she's ever eaten at my odd dimension was roasted field mice, which she declared so miraculously burnt that it could potentially cause a volcano to vomit.
She's a sweet girl, that one.
This time around, however, she hardly glanced at me. We tend to play a lot of boardgames - namely Chinese checkers and Baduk, both being games she tends to destroy me at - so we don't actually talk a lot. In fact, outside of insulting each other, we really don't speak to each other at all. However, there's a sort of mutual recognition in playing a board-game together, and normally we both allow ourselves to give the game our full attention.
She was pissy this visit. Not to me, exactly, because she wouldn't even react to my attempts at light jabbing. She seemed... Frustrated? It was almost on the level of disgust with something or another. She just kept bickering under her breath too quietly for me to hear any actual words. She also played the game of Baduk pretty poorly. Maybe I have far worse spacial reasoning skills than I'd like to admit, but I'm bad at that game, no matter how fascinating I find it. She normally eviscerates me at it. However, even I managed to win a game against the distracted Mariko by three points.
She stopped mumbling to herself after that, though she still seemed extremely agitated. Eventually, I had to accept that she wasn't exactly "all there," and fell back on the card game War, which is blissfully brainless, and just watched as she fumed internally. She doesn't really show anger on her face - she's pretty good at pulling off the blank expression - but her eyes showed that she seemed to be trying to invent new explicit profanities.
TL;DR Had a dream with Mariko in it. She was mad about something, and pretended I wasn't there despite having shown up in my own dream. Heh. Wish that was the first time, but it's the first time she seemed so thoroughly pissed off. It was kind of bemusing.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Oh, internet. You do give me very bad ideas some times. I like it.
And with that, I hope you all have pleasant dreams.
Good night, loves.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
The man on the moon stole from me what I never had.
The last few days, the moon has been intoxicatingly bright. I burned a few hours sitting outside staring at the thing, thinking of... well, absolutely nothing, to be honest. I seem to be pretty good at drawing blanks lately. Wonderful things, blanks.
I have no idea why, but somewhere near the edge of three in the morning last night / this morning, I started having this very peculiar feeling like the moon had taken something from me. Absurd as it was, I spent another hour trying to figure out what it might have been. The more I thought about it, the more perplexed and irritated I got. While amusing to say, I'm still kind of annoyed with the fact that I have the unnerving feeling like it's snatched something from me. It makes no sense.
The shiny ball in the sky stole one of my shinies.
I know it.
I dare say, my good chaps, that I've gone mad.
That thing that I own. The small thing that's currently black, has lots of little buttons with numbers on it? That thing that lets me talk to people? Yeah. That thing. I need to remember I actually own one of those things. I don't think I've touched it since early November or so, and that's being mildly generous. Needless to say, I annoyed the hell out of quite a great number of people. Only a few of them matter - if only because the mass majority of the vexed people wanted something from me - but it still seems a bad policy to forget that I own things.
The moon might steal them from me, and I'd never realize they were gone.
Bloody bastard. Simply because you're very, very shiny right now doesn't give you the right to steal my not-as-shiny things. Or thoughts. Or whatever snippets of a soul I probably stole from someone else. Or other things.
Bastard.
At any rate: I'm severely sorry for not responding to the princess or the puppy. Zack, whatever you needed you've probably solved on your own by now, so I don't feel so bad, and the mere idea of you not calling me if you weren't asking for something is outright adorable. So yeah. Suck it. Or some other figurative jester of bird-flipping.
Stuff.
With the very weird feeling that something of mine got stolen by a giant glowing rock in the sky, I destroyed my room, and found out that I owned one of those "phone" thingies. So... my bad.
-snort-
This is why I never bothered with buying one of the bloody things until not having one became too much of a pain. I think I'm one of the few men under the age of eighty - I am under the age of eighty, right? - who still wears a watch. Everyone I've talked to say that they never forget their phone because it's their new watch. Honestly, pulling a giant hunk of plastic out of my pocket and pushing a button so the screen lights up just to see the time seems like such a hassle when I can just glance at my wrist and be done with it.
Or badger someone else for the time.
That's way more fun.
It is odd that I prefer having a watch, though. That weird issue I have with not liking things around my wrists never went away. I should really considering getting a pocket watch. They look nifty to boot, and would make me feel like a snooty bastard. That sounds interesting.
Wait.
What's the difference between a pocket watch and a cell-phone at this point?
...
Well, shit.
Hm.
-glances up-
Note to self: No listening to celtic - or folk rock, since they sometimes blend together for me because I'm uncultured like that - music while typing. It tends to make me type out things that are even more bloody irrational and hyper-active than usual.
I'm not high, I swear.
-munches on left-over gingerbread zombies-
Good god these things are stale now. Granted, that's kind of appropriate, but... Bah to you! I shall drown you in choco-coffee as punishment! Graaaaaaaargh!
Aight. Think I've said everything I really needed to say.
It's in there somewhere. Probably.
I'll be a bit busy tomorrow. School starts up on Monday, but I scheduled my classes to only be on Monday and Wednesday because cramming everything in less days tends to work for me.
You know, since I don't procrastinate and waste the extra time I give myself on stressing myself out about all the work that I should be doing.
I'll probably give calling late Thursday or Friday a try. Assuming I'm not shanked by that one girl I really, really pissed off last semester. I thought it was cute of her to try and sick her boyfriend at me, because he fidgets around more than an elementary school-girl and didn't have the balls to even threaten my nerdy ass. Granted, the girl herself is pretty bloody scary. It's a shame she's such a vile bore; intimidating people are fun to keep around. They keep you on your toes, and I never feel bad about arguing with them for the sheer fun of having a heated argument.
Hm.
Yeah.
Gotta wake up early, so I'm gonna go pretend to sleep for a few hours, stay awake until four in the morning, and then actually sleep for two hours.
You know, the usual routine.
I've developed a temporary fascination with Blackmore's Night, so I shall give you one of the songs that may or may not have controlled the tempo of how I wrote this.
I is so easily effected by things.
Sad panda. D:
I have no idea why, but somewhere near the edge of three in the morning last night / this morning, I started having this very peculiar feeling like the moon had taken something from me. Absurd as it was, I spent another hour trying to figure out what it might have been. The more I thought about it, the more perplexed and irritated I got. While amusing to say, I'm still kind of annoyed with the fact that I have the unnerving feeling like it's snatched something from me. It makes no sense.
The shiny ball in the sky stole one of my shinies.
I know it.
I dare say, my good chaps, that I've gone mad.
That thing that I own. The small thing that's currently black, has lots of little buttons with numbers on it? That thing that lets me talk to people? Yeah. That thing. I need to remember I actually own one of those things. I don't think I've touched it since early November or so, and that's being mildly generous. Needless to say, I annoyed the hell out of quite a great number of people. Only a few of them matter - if only because the mass majority of the vexed people wanted something from me - but it still seems a bad policy to forget that I own things.
The moon might steal them from me, and I'd never realize they were gone.
Bloody bastard. Simply because you're very, very shiny right now doesn't give you the right to steal my not-as-shiny things. Or thoughts. Or whatever snippets of a soul I probably stole from someone else. Or other things.
Bastard.
At any rate: I'm severely sorry for not responding to the princess or the puppy. Zack, whatever you needed you've probably solved on your own by now, so I don't feel so bad, and the mere idea of you not calling me if you weren't asking for something is outright adorable. So yeah. Suck it. Or some other figurative jester of bird-flipping.
Stuff.
With the very weird feeling that something of mine got stolen by a giant glowing rock in the sky, I destroyed my room, and found out that I owned one of those "phone" thingies. So... my bad.
-snort-
This is why I never bothered with buying one of the bloody things until not having one became too much of a pain. I think I'm one of the few men under the age of eighty - I am under the age of eighty, right? - who still wears a watch. Everyone I've talked to say that they never forget their phone because it's their new watch. Honestly, pulling a giant hunk of plastic out of my pocket and pushing a button so the screen lights up just to see the time seems like such a hassle when I can just glance at my wrist and be done with it.
Or badger someone else for the time.
That's way more fun.
It is odd that I prefer having a watch, though. That weird issue I have with not liking things around my wrists never went away. I should really considering getting a pocket watch. They look nifty to boot, and would make me feel like a snooty bastard. That sounds interesting.
Wait.
What's the difference between a pocket watch and a cell-phone at this point?
...
Well, shit.
Hm.
-glances up-
Note to self: No listening to celtic - or folk rock, since they sometimes blend together for me because I'm uncultured like that - music while typing. It tends to make me type out things that are even more bloody irrational and hyper-active than usual.
I'm not high, I swear.
-munches on left-over gingerbread zombies-
Good god these things are stale now. Granted, that's kind of appropriate, but... Bah to you! I shall drown you in choco-coffee as punishment! Graaaaaaaargh!
Aight. Think I've said everything I really needed to say.
It's in there somewhere. Probably.
I'll be a bit busy tomorrow. School starts up on Monday, but I scheduled my classes to only be on Monday and Wednesday because cramming everything in less days tends to work for me.
You know, since I don't procrastinate and waste the extra time I give myself on stressing myself out about all the work that I should be doing.
I'll probably give calling late Thursday or Friday a try. Assuming I'm not shanked by that one girl I really, really pissed off last semester. I thought it was cute of her to try and sick her boyfriend at me, because he fidgets around more than an elementary school-girl and didn't have the balls to even threaten my nerdy ass. Granted, the girl herself is pretty bloody scary. It's a shame she's such a vile bore; intimidating people are fun to keep around. They keep you on your toes, and I never feel bad about arguing with them for the sheer fun of having a heated argument.
Hm.
Yeah.
Gotta wake up early, so I'm gonna go pretend to sleep for a few hours, stay awake until four in the morning, and then actually sleep for two hours.
You know, the usual routine.
I've developed a temporary fascination with Blackmore's Night, so I shall give you one of the songs that may or may not have controlled the tempo of how I wrote this.
I is so easily effected by things.
Sad panda. D:
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