Here's something nice to listen to.
With a little thanks to
Warren.
Friday, October 27, 2006
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Yes...I know
I'm not writing much for your hungry eyes. But my most attractive of all internet readers, if you want my dazzling prose - read some of the fjucking Fjord archives! (There's only a YEAR AND 10 MONTHS of amusement over there)
In the meanwhile, I'm still keeping my eyes and ears open for yas.
So, watch this!
Allriiiiight.
Now,
who loves ya!?
In the meanwhile, I'm still keeping my eyes and ears open for yas.
So, watch this!
Allriiiiight.
Now,
who loves ya!?
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Saturday, October 21, 2006
Friday, October 20, 2006
There's no doubt...
I've tried (lazily, no doubt) to tell you to read Pop - over at Pop's Bucket. It seems like more than a few times, we're on the same page. Just three days after that crocodile guy gots killed by a ray, I was told a crazy story from my diver friend (back from the Gulf Coast - reconstructing messed up underwater pipelines from Katrina) about one of his co-workers who was killed by a MANTA RAY... It was a long and drawn out tale, but basically this dude had just done his job, and was decompressing hundreds of feet under the surface, when a manta got tangled up in his oxygen line (from the boat far above...fixed to his helmet) - and the beast dragged him straight to the surface...whereupon the rapid change in pressure blew out too many regulating systems (I'm no expert at human/underwater physiology so I can't tell you exactly the cause of death) but it killed him - as sure as a stinger to the heart. So, back to the idea of me and Pops being on the same page...he's talking about an underwater army of stingray bent on killing us - and I couldn't agree more. I blame Bush, since he's clearly broken a number of international treaties (ABM, Geneva...err that thing...Habeus Corpus...(do you know how the Swiss have fjucked up everjything? (maybe not that Geneva deal-i-o, but I'm a blogger so I'm just sayin') Versallies, Potsdam...sorry it's pretty obvious after the first two I'm just making stuff up) Irregardless - something has happened. Where the Human/Ray/Skate non-aggression pact , which has been intact for eons, has now been broken. Clearly we are not equipped as a species, to deal with this threat. I'm only wondering when the first deadly skate attack is going to occur, and what the government is going to do about it. These species are obviously more effective than the terrorists...which might mean they even have some sort of creepy alliance. Now, knowing what I know about alliances/non-aggression pacts/political wheelings and dealings from the past...I have to say, it's kinda' obvious - when a friend becomes an enemy, then the enemy of my friend becomes my friend. And I don't like where this is going. I really don't.
-Tsunami-
-Tsunami-
The Wandering Rhino wrote something nice
And we're going to post it without his permission! (this is gonna be grate!!!)
It goes like this...
The next Morning.
"So why the hell did it take that long" Doug said with a quizical look on his face. Doug was the only friend Geoff knew with any power, he was a logistics manager.
"It was just nuts", he replied, refferring to time the writers were at his home, compiling the half page feature on him.
He had made the 2nd page, the first fully Bionic man. His article was the 3rd most bought and viewed around the planet. Since electronic newspapers became common, actual newspapers were infreqeunt and heavily priced.
"So, " Taking a further sip of his coffee "I have a bit of fame, but I want to .. "
"..make some money off it" Doug concluded."
"Yep"
"Well, you are moderately unique," Doug remarked lazily, stretching his arms, "so you could make a moderate amount of money. What do you want to do?"
"Well, thats why I asked you - how can I make this work for me?"
Doug, scratching his head, "Well, there's so many things - Public speaking, talk shows, radio - all short term. Movies, management, counselling, peace keeping, science.."
"What's peace keeping?"
"Well, diplomtic stuff, between robot and human unions, you could be quite an ambassador. You would need to be taught Robot logic."
"mm, what do you think I could do? Should do?" sounding reluctant.
"Make the most of it short term, don't wait. That will buy you time - you'll have enough credits for year, maybe two if it goes well."
"And then..." Geoff interrupted eagerly,
"Well, I'd say your best bet would be a professional position, one of the major hospitals. They'd, well, you'd have to look really switched on in your press stuff. You know, human/robotic relations. Do some reading, etc. I'll hunt around, but you know I am busy, it will take a while."
Doug sat there, look intently with his bionic eyes.
" I will pay you, based on what happens." understanding Dougs subtelty
" I will need some start up capital, if you're serious, you know that."
" Yeah, I know" he looked around slightly agrieved, "OK, thanks, look I gotta go, thanks for talking." They parted ways, dawn was now fully fledged daylight and he had work.
He sat, the incessent hum of the robotics began, as work started for the day. He worked in a robotics factory - a long slender building with a production line running its length. They produced robot arms, for one specific type of window cleaning robot.
Geoff sat, quite accurately, half way between both ends of the assembly line. To his right, the first part of assembly, robots, different kinds of robots, assembled various parts of the robotic arm. Geoff hadn't never noticed any irony, he wasn't particularly bright.
He retrieved the half assembled arms, checked the robots job and then passed it on to his left. Here, a line of humans assembled the finer parts of the arms; humans were cheaper than robots for this job. Geoff had never noticed anything particular about his circumstance, as he gently scrtached his right ear with his metallic finger.
Somebody's been working.........
It goes like this...
The next Morning.
"So why the hell did it take that long" Doug said with a quizical look on his face. Doug was the only friend Geoff knew with any power, he was a logistics manager.
"It was just nuts", he replied, refferring to time the writers were at his home, compiling the half page feature on him.
He had made the 2nd page, the first fully Bionic man. His article was the 3rd most bought and viewed around the planet. Since electronic newspapers became common, actual newspapers were infreqeunt and heavily priced.
"So, " Taking a further sip of his coffee "I have a bit of fame, but I want to .. "
"..make some money off it" Doug concluded."
"Yep"
"Well, you are moderately unique," Doug remarked lazily, stretching his arms, "so you could make a moderate amount of money. What do you want to do?"
"Well, thats why I asked you - how can I make this work for me?"
Doug, scratching his head, "Well, there's so many things - Public speaking, talk shows, radio - all short term. Movies, management, counselling, peace keeping, science.."
"What's peace keeping?"
"Well, diplomtic stuff, between robot and human unions, you could be quite an ambassador. You would need to be taught Robot logic."
"mm, what do you think I could do? Should do?" sounding reluctant.
"Make the most of it short term, don't wait. That will buy you time - you'll have enough credits for year, maybe two if it goes well."
"And then..." Geoff interrupted eagerly,
"Well, I'd say your best bet would be a professional position, one of the major hospitals. They'd, well, you'd have to look really switched on in your press stuff. You know, human/robotic relations. Do some reading, etc. I'll hunt around, but you know I am busy, it will take a while."
Doug sat there, look intently with his bionic eyes.
" I will pay you, based on what happens." understanding Dougs subtelty
" I will need some start up capital, if you're serious, you know that."
" Yeah, I know" he looked around slightly agrieved, "OK, thanks, look I gotta go, thanks for talking." They parted ways, dawn was now fully fledged daylight and he had work.
He sat, the incessent hum of the robotics began, as work started for the day. He worked in a robotics factory - a long slender building with a production line running its length. They produced robot arms, for one specific type of window cleaning robot.
Geoff sat, quite accurately, half way between both ends of the assembly line. To his right, the first part of assembly, robots, different kinds of robots, assembled various parts of the robotic arm. Geoff hadn't never noticed any irony, he wasn't particularly bright.
He retrieved the half assembled arms, checked the robots job and then passed it on to his left. Here, a line of humans assembled the finer parts of the arms; humans were cheaper than robots for this job. Geoff had never noticed anything particular about his circumstance, as he gently scrtached his right ear with his metallic finger.
Somebody's been working.........
Not Quite...
Up to your regularly expected Fjordian information/content flow - but yer pal Tsunami does what he can.
But
Neatorama
has been kicking ass lately.
here's a couple of choice bits.
Ravens
Hotblack
Flying Cars
Ghosts in photographs!
But
Neatorama
has been kicking ass lately.
here's a couple of choice bits.
Ravens
Hotblack
Flying Cars
Ghosts in photographs!
The King of the Swamp People is not pleased.
Instead of obeying my decrees - (the only one of which so far - to bring me the corpse of Kenneth Lay) some idiot activist judge instead decided "because 'ole Kenny-Boy's dead, his record should be wiped clean." As if he never robbed 40 billion dollars from anyone. Like the Republic of California doesn't still owe 15 Billion dollars to Texas. Like the guy guilty by a jury of his "peers" died a multi-billionaire in his COLORADO VACATION MANSION - INSTEAD OF A PRISON CELL. Like the fucking guy is a goddamn SAINT! (Not to disparage the fine NFL organization (and your Monarch's Champions) that's currently kicking ass across the country - go Saints!)
No my fine feathered friends - it's true.
Not only did he fuck with truth, justice, and the American way - he died a free man, and unlike the punishment I think should be handed down - that his family should have to work until the entire debt of his thievery is paid off (clearly the work of generations of hardworking "Lays" who would curse their father's, grandfather's, great-grandfather's, and great-great-grandfather's name - as should be the case.) Instead, it's like he never committed a crime at all. Who is to atone for this one man's atrocious misdeeds???
No one.
And his family will live off of the spoils for generations.
And The King of the Swamp People still want his corpse to decorate the Superdome.
No my fine feathered friends - it's true.
Not only did he fuck with truth, justice, and the American way - he died a free man, and unlike the punishment I think should be handed down - that his family should have to work until the entire debt of his thievery is paid off (clearly the work of generations of hardworking "Lays" who would curse their father's, grandfather's, great-grandfather's, and great-great-grandfather's name - as should be the case.) Instead, it's like he never committed a crime at all. Who is to atone for this one man's atrocious misdeeds???
No one.
And his family will live off of the spoils for generations.
And The King of the Swamp People still want his corpse to decorate the Superdome.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Monday, October 16, 2006
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Earlier today
I killed 120 zombies from the last link.
In other news...
September was mad. I went from Mexico to a few miles from the Canadian border, back to L.A., and then to New York. I was back in time to get fitted for a tux so I could be in a wedding last weekend. I've got a day job running the Casa Aloha, and am working on a television project which is coming along but demanding further hours of mindspace. I'm enrolled in a writing course at UCLA, which seems encouraging, but sooner or later I'm going to have to get around to writing the 6th draft of my cat-burglar script. Along with all this, it's football season, and I still need some time to find a nice damsel out in the world. So there might be some light posting for a bit.
But I did kill 120 zombies.
-Tsunami-
In other news...
September was mad. I went from Mexico to a few miles from the Canadian border, back to L.A., and then to New York. I was back in time to get fitted for a tux so I could be in a wedding last weekend. I've got a day job running the Casa Aloha, and am working on a television project which is coming along but demanding further hours of mindspace. I'm enrolled in a writing course at UCLA, which seems encouraging, but sooner or later I'm going to have to get around to writing the 6th draft of my cat-burglar script. Along with all this, it's football season, and I still need some time to find a nice damsel out in the world. So there might be some light posting for a bit.
But I did kill 120 zombies.
-Tsunami-
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Fjord - now content free!
Yea friends...I am aware.
But, since I am a kind and benevolent lord,
here is a sweet video game for you to pass the time.
But, since I am a kind and benevolent lord,
here is a sweet video game for you to pass the time.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
DEET...DEET DEET...FJORDNEWS...DEET...DEET..
With the recent (and finally) scientific push to actually, do something in order to protect us from the growing mummy menace (i.e. "The Global War on Horror") I've been invited as the key note speaker at a symposium in NYC tomorrow evening. Afterwards, I'll be pressing the flesh at East Siiiide fundraisers and will hopefully meet some of the other "real" players - at least on the Atlantic side of things.
Meanwhile...
here's some enlightening mummy news that we've been highlighting through 2006.
Chinese Mummy.
L.A. mummy.
Mummy bank robbers
-Tsunami-
Meanwhile...
here's some enlightening mummy news that we've been highlighting through 2006.
Chinese Mummy.
L.A. mummy.
Mummy bank robbers
-Tsunami-
Monday, September 25, 2006
But then today...
There appears to be a greater effort into mummy destruction than I previously realized. Seems now even the mysterious and elusive (and nearly constantly maligned) dentists are working on research into how to stop the mummy onslaught!
It seems to me that this research is going to have a lot of practical applications. I don't know why this news isn't on the front page of every newspaper, encouraging others to jump into the field. There are a LOT of R&D contracts going around right now with the Global War on Horror.
It seems to me that this research is going to have a lot of practical applications. I don't know why this news isn't on the front page of every newspaper, encouraging others to jump into the field. There are a LOT of R&D contracts going around right now with the Global War on Horror.
Saturday, September 23, 2006
'Course, right after that last post...
there's this.
Yes, sadly, more mummy dogs popping up. And right after I thought we had finally made a little progress in this War on Horror.
In better news...
I was able to find a couple video-clips from SRL, working on some robots...at least someone's working on something that might actually help.
Here and here.
Yes, sadly, more mummy dogs popping up. And right after I thought we had finally made a little progress in this War on Horror.
In better news...
I was able to find a couple video-clips from SRL, working on some robots...at least someone's working on something that might actually help.
Here and here.
Took ya long enough...
Finally, some good science work on this mummy issue I've been flogging for the duration of 2006.-the caption reads-
Stanford University radiologists used a CT scanner to look inside an unopened, intact 2000-year-old mummy.
We're watching yoooou!
Fuckin' mummy.
thanks bbc.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
The Toast of the Town made up some rules about lunch
I thought I should post them. Kindly used without even asking.
Since there has been some confusion on what to do during your
"relaxing" Lunch/Dinner hour/ half-hour, these are some rules I set up to follow
regarding how it is spent.
1) One has the right to spend Lunch/Dinner by themselves
2) One has the right to spend it the way they want so long as it does
not affects another's enjoyment of their Lunch/Dinner
3) One may invite someone to Lunch/Dinner.
A)One may spend this time with people with the understanding
that it is for the sake of the Lunch/Dinner.
a)This is not a commitment. This is Lunch/Dinner, not
a marriage.
b) There is no such thing as a universal invitation.
B) One may decline an invitation(excuse is Optional).
C) One is not "stood up" to Lunch/Dinner if one is not invited
to Lunch/Dinner (see Rule #1)
4) If Person A is out for Lunch/Dinner and runs into Person B, Person A
may to join B if Person B chooses to revoke Rule #1
5) Food and drama don't mix. This isn't "Hell's Kitchen"
6) What's said at Lunch/Dinner, stays at Lunch/Dinner. . . unless Rule
#2 is broken.
7) See Rule #1
Now that this is established, I can continue on with my menu reading .
PS Yeah, I'm a jerk. . .
Fjord - helping luncheon-goers everywhere. Know your rights!
Since there has been some confusion on what to do during your
"relaxing" Lunch/Dinner hour/ half-hour, these are some rules I set up to follow
regarding how it is spent.
1) One has the right to spend Lunch/Dinner by themselves
2) One has the right to spend it the way they want so long as it does
not affects another's enjoyment of their Lunch/Dinner
3) One may invite someone to Lunch/Dinner.
A)One may spend this time with people with the understanding
that it is for the sake of the Lunch/Dinner.
a)This is not a commitment. This is Lunch/Dinner, not
a marriage.
b) There is no such thing as a universal invitation.
B) One may decline an invitation(excuse is Optional).
C) One is not "stood up" to Lunch/Dinner if one is not invited
to Lunch/Dinner (see Rule #1)
4) If Person A is out for Lunch/Dinner and runs into Person B, Person A
may to join B if Person B chooses to revoke Rule #1
5) Food and drama don't mix. This isn't "Hell's Kitchen"
6) What's said at Lunch/Dinner, stays at Lunch/Dinner. . . unless Rule
#2 is broken.
7) See Rule #1
Now that this is established, I can continue on with my menu reading .
PS Yeah, I'm a jerk. . .
Fjord - helping luncheon-goers everywhere. Know your rights!
And...GO!
Okay kids we got a lot to do and a short time to do it.
At the moment I'm working on a project for television which (altho it's
tippy-top secret, I'll spill a little of the beans) is a mashup of
every
popular television show ever. Only BETTER~!
Upon completion of the pilot episode I plan to be very, very rich.
At the moment I'm working on a project for television which (altho it's
tippy-top secret, I'll spill a little of the beans) is a mashup of
every
popular television show ever. Only BETTER~!
Upon completion of the pilot episode I plan to be very, very rich.
I liked this one...
I give you, Pop.
Altho, I'm afraid I don't share Pop's optimism about the Swiss and pacifism. I think they're insidiously plotting their next move of global domination. I also suspect they have a time machine.
Altho, I'm afraid I don't share Pop's optimism about the Swiss and pacifism. I think they're insidiously plotting their next move of global domination. I also suspect they have a time machine.
Thursday entered the room softly...
wearing slippers that were sewn in the shape of rabbits.
"Shhhh," came out of his mouth. Then he whispered, "Try not to wake
the little ones!"
I attended the Banksy show on Saturday, and it was definitely worth it.
What was striking was for a guy with no known public face, and from
what I gathered was a small public following...the place was packed.
Since the exhibition took place in a artsy-sized warehouse space, that's
actually saying something. I'm not at liberty to say how many of those
visiting were just L.A. scenesters, and how many were actually fans,
but Banksy's stuff is pretty accessible, and it'd be hard to see this
many pieces of his work and not walk away thinking it was pretty cool.
I took some random shots - but since my technology-issues - I seem to have misplaced my usb cable that fits my digi-cam. Until I find it, we'll have to settle for some more...err, public shots...
The most mind-boggling piece was the elephant. It took me a
little bit of time to process...I thought it was stuffed. Then after
I saw it move, a few more seconds before thinking, "cool - animatronic
robot elephant!" Then I watched it eat some hay. "Holy crap! Real
elephant! Stenciled to look like the wallpaper."
Anyways - there was some press about the elephant where some
people got pretty mad at him for using a real creature for this piece. I'm not going
to say I didn't feel a little sorry for the guy, but got a hell of a lot
more out of the experience when I read the back of his little card...
There's an elephant in the room.
There's a problem that we never talk about.
The fact is life isn't getting any fairer.
-1.7 Billion people have no access to clean drinking water.
-20 Billion people live below the poverty line.
-Every day hundreds of people are made to feel physically sick by morons at art shows telling them how bad the world is but never actually doing something about it.
Anybody want a free glass of wine?
***
I haven't seen anything else pop up on the radar...so I'm assuming Banksy's skipped town.
In a very Bansky-esque performance there's this guy who dressed up like
a terra cotta soldier in china - and jumped in with the rest of them, and stood really still while guards looked around for him. If that's not art, I dunno what is.
"Shhhh," came out of his mouth. Then he whispered, "Try not to wake
the little ones!"
I attended the Banksy show on Saturday, and it was definitely worth it.
What was striking was for a guy with no known public face, and from
what I gathered was a small public following...the place was packed.
Since the exhibition took place in a artsy-sized warehouse space, that's
actually saying something. I'm not at liberty to say how many of those
visiting were just L.A. scenesters, and how many were actually fans,
but Banksy's stuff is pretty accessible, and it'd be hard to see this
many pieces of his work and not walk away thinking it was pretty cool.
I took some random shots - but since my technology-issues - I seem to have misplaced my usb cable that fits my digi-cam. Until I find it, we'll have to settle for some more...err, public shots...
The most mind-boggling piece was the elephant. It took me a
little bit of time to process...I thought it was stuffed. Then after
I saw it move, a few more seconds before thinking, "cool - animatronic
robot elephant!" Then I watched it eat some hay. "Holy crap! Real
elephant! Stenciled to look like the wallpaper."
Anyways - there was some press about the elephant where some
people got pretty mad at him for using a real creature for this piece. I'm not going
to say I didn't feel a little sorry for the guy, but got a hell of a lot
more out of the experience when I read the back of his little card...
There's an elephant in the room.
There's a problem that we never talk about.
The fact is life isn't getting any fairer.
-1.7 Billion people have no access to clean drinking water.
-20 Billion people live below the poverty line.
-Every day hundreds of people are made to feel physically sick by morons at art shows telling them how bad the world is but never actually doing something about it.
Anybody want a free glass of wine?
***
I haven't seen anything else pop up on the radar...so I'm assuming Banksy's skipped town.
In a very Bansky-esque performance there's this guy who dressed up like
a terra cotta soldier in china - and jumped in with the rest of them, and stood really still while guards looked around for him. If that's not art, I dunno what is.
Friday, September 15, 2006
I've been a bad, bad blogger
Yeah - but whatchoo gonna do huh?
Cut off my federal funding?
Stop payments on my nubile young women account?
Steal my blogspot address? Good luck!
Write me nastygrams?
You and I both know, doing even one of those will take waaaay too much time, since the only reason you swing by is to consume some free content while yer surfing around looking for free content.
So here's one more link to wrap up this totally uninspiring week.
Tho I did think the previous post was kinda clever.
Happy Friday
Cut off my federal funding?
Stop payments on my nubile young women account?
Steal my blogspot address? Good luck!
Write me nastygrams?
You and I both know, doing even one of those will take waaaay too much time, since the only reason you swing by is to consume some free content while yer surfing around looking for free content.
So here's one more link to wrap up this totally uninspiring week.
Tho I did think the previous post was kinda clever.
Happy Friday
DR. ROBOT!!!
Sooo cool!
Snake-arm robots on the other hand can move in up to 30 different directions at once. Their supple bodies can bend and flex to fit the shape of the confining space.
So this story came along and then I stumbled upon THIS
Which is cool 'cause it says...The motions are coordinated and smooth because his left arm is a bionic device controlled by his brain. He thinks, "Close hand," and electrical signals sent through surgically re-routed nerves make it happen.
So, it's now perfectly logical to assume that it's possible for there to be...This guy!
Snake-arm robots on the other hand can move in up to 30 different directions at once. Their supple bodies can bend and flex to fit the shape of the confining space.
So this story came along and then I stumbled upon THISWhich is cool 'cause it says...The motions are coordinated and smooth because his left arm is a bionic device controlled by his brain. He thinks, "Close hand," and electrical signals sent through surgically re-routed nerves make it happen.
So, it's now perfectly logical to assume that it's possible for there to be...This guy!
Thursday, September 14, 2006
The neighbor of the beast
*sigh*
I didn't realize that yesterday's post was 666. That would have been cool to know at the time. Anyways, I'm just hyping the news that our favorite grafitti artist BANKSY (who we've covered previously) is in town and stirring up trouble. He just put a blow up doll dressed like a Guantanimo Bay prisoner in Disneyland.
If I see anything else, I'll letcha' know.
I didn't realize that yesterday's post was 666. That would have been cool to know at the time. Anyways, I'm just hyping the news that our favorite grafitti artist BANKSY (who we've covered previously) is in town and stirring up trouble. He just put a blow up doll dressed like a Guantanimo Bay prisoner in Disneyland.
If I see anything else, I'll letcha' know.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
More of the same...
Busy on another project, so no time for creating Fjordian masterpieces.
But, there's a great little net-show called "the show." Most are very funny, but I really liked this one alot.
But, there's a great little net-show called "the show." Most are very funny, but I really liked this one alot.
Monday, September 11, 2006
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Some Thursday Night Lite Fiction For Youse
She didn't seem like the kind of girl who would rip the legs off of a
cricket. But then again, how well do you know anyone? The incident
happened shortly after I was fired from my sex-line phone-chat job.
I'm not going to say I was good at it, or even that I liked it. But,
loosing that job put me into a state of unease over my liquidity.
Since I didn't have any prospects, and there are only four things I
hate more than daytime teevee, (tuna, cockroaches, acid burns, and phone
companies, ohh, and clowns. Okay - five things...maybe more - never
really thought about it until now.)
Anyways, for fun I would go down to the more seedy districts of the
metropolis - and meander around the bums and muggers, and con-men.
This gave me a marginal thrill, since I knew even if I got rolled or taken,
I really had so little to loose that it would be far cheaper than going
to a movie.
So around there one afternoon, I bumped into her coming out of one of
those falling down hotels that might have been nice back in the day.
She had the look in her face like she wasn't in a hurry to get
to her destination, and I wasn't going anywhere - so we started
talking.
After a walking who knows where, talking about crazy shit like black
holes, urban renewal, micro-climates, and good war movies, we ended up
back at her hotel room with a cheap bottle of wine, or whisky or
something that tasted awful, peeled skin off the inside of your
stomach, and did a number on your brain-pan. That was the beginning of what
became a bi-weekly ritual. It wasn't like it was an amorous thing, it
was just that she was nice to me, and I like it when people are nice to
me. Plus, there was that whole daytime teevee thing.
About two weeks down the line another fellow started showing up at her
place, with the name of Rex Bowen. I don't know if she knew him from before, or if she met him after me, but it was her place, and she could invite in whoever she wanted. But Rex couldn't talk in a conversation if his life depended on it.
Rex wasn't all that bad of a guy, but he had annoying streaks. Like he'd come in all strung out on meth, and then drink some of our drink and start singing show-tunes, or worse, lousy renditions of Deep Purple and Motorhead. I didn't think much of it, cause she kept on opening the door for him when he came around, I just got ready to cringe whenever he came by.
Anyways this one time he comes in - lit up like an electrical storm - and grabs the bottle, slams down a good fourth of it, and then begins singing this ridiculous made-up tune that went something like this.
Motion picture
Mo-tion Pic-ture
I wanna be in a motion picture...
motion
picture...
motion
picture
I wanna be in a motion picture...
Well, from out of nowhere this girl shouts out at the top of her lungs - and I mean a real scream,
"REX YOU RETARDED DOOF! SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
Only Rex was waaay too into his song to care. I mean, he was feeling the groove. Swaying around the room with a bottle in one hand, and his other clenched around an air microphone.
Mo-tion Pic-ture
Mo-tion Pic-ture
I wanna be in a motion picture...lalalala
So she came up from his side, and from out of nowhere, latched a handcuff around the wrist that had the bottle. And with shocking strength, pulled him straight to the iron bedframe - at least 10 feet away, and locked the other bracelet around a big pole. The big doof barely even noticed. He just kept on singing his damn stupid song.
I wanna be in a motion picture.
"Rex," she said loudly and clearly. "If you don't shut up right now, I'm going to pull off your legs." He really didn't hear her. Or else, he really didn't believe her. That was, in my opinion, his mistake.
She got up, and went into a closet. She dragged out a large, and very heavy cardboard box. In the middle of the room, she opened it, and pulled out a big winch - like the kind you see on the front of heavy Army trucks. She carried it into the bathroom, which was sort of kitty-corner from the bed. There were some clanking noises that came from in there. Then she came out with a cable, and wrapped it around Rex's legs. Rex was still lost in song.
Mo-tion pic-ture, mo-tion, picture, motion picture, I wanna be in a...
"I'll show you a fucking motion picture." She said, walked into the bathroom, and the next thing I knew there was the sound of mechanical grating, and the cable got tighter. Rex stopped singing, and started screaming. I watched as his pants got tighter around his legs,
and his body began to straighten out - pulled from the one arm handcuffed to the
bed rail, and his legs wrapped around a winch cable. I decided it would be best if I didn't watch the rest.
When I opened my eyes, the bed was across the room, Rex was pouring blood from two stumps where his legs used to be, and she was covered in blood from head to toe. She said,
"How's that for a goddamn motion picture."
I paused for a second, and spoke,
"I think we're going to need more booze. I'll go get some. Start figuring out how to clean this shit up." I stood up and headed for the door.
"Yeah," She said, "that sounds like a good idea. I sure can't go out for anything!" She cackled madly as I walked out.
I walked away from the scene, never intending to buy her, or us anything ever again. She was a nice girl. She didn't seem like the kind of girl who would rip the legs off of a cricket. God, did I just think "cricket?" I must not be in the right frame of mind after just going through all that. She didn't seem like the kind of girl who would rip the legs off of a man. But then again, how well do you know anyone?
cricket. But then again, how well do you know anyone? The incident
happened shortly after I was fired from my sex-line phone-chat job.
I'm not going to say I was good at it, or even that I liked it. But,
loosing that job put me into a state of unease over my liquidity.
Since I didn't have any prospects, and there are only four things I
hate more than daytime teevee, (tuna, cockroaches, acid burns, and phone
companies, ohh, and clowns. Okay - five things...maybe more - never
really thought about it until now.)
Anyways, for fun I would go down to the more seedy districts of the
metropolis - and meander around the bums and muggers, and con-men.
This gave me a marginal thrill, since I knew even if I got rolled or taken,
I really had so little to loose that it would be far cheaper than going
to a movie.
So around there one afternoon, I bumped into her coming out of one of
those falling down hotels that might have been nice back in the day.
She had the look in her face like she wasn't in a hurry to get
to her destination, and I wasn't going anywhere - so we started
talking.
After a walking who knows where, talking about crazy shit like black
holes, urban renewal, micro-climates, and good war movies, we ended up
back at her hotel room with a cheap bottle of wine, or whisky or
something that tasted awful, peeled skin off the inside of your
stomach, and did a number on your brain-pan. That was the beginning of what
became a bi-weekly ritual. It wasn't like it was an amorous thing, it
was just that she was nice to me, and I like it when people are nice to
me. Plus, there was that whole daytime teevee thing.
About two weeks down the line another fellow started showing up at her
place, with the name of Rex Bowen. I don't know if she knew him from before, or if she met him after me, but it was her place, and she could invite in whoever she wanted. But Rex couldn't talk in a conversation if his life depended on it.
Rex wasn't all that bad of a guy, but he had annoying streaks. Like he'd come in all strung out on meth, and then drink some of our drink and start singing show-tunes, or worse, lousy renditions of Deep Purple and Motorhead. I didn't think much of it, cause she kept on opening the door for him when he came around, I just got ready to cringe whenever he came by.
Anyways this one time he comes in - lit up like an electrical storm - and grabs the bottle, slams down a good fourth of it, and then begins singing this ridiculous made-up tune that went something like this.
Motion picture
Mo-tion Pic-ture
I wanna be in a motion picture...
motion
picture...
motion
picture
I wanna be in a motion picture...
Well, from out of nowhere this girl shouts out at the top of her lungs - and I mean a real scream,
"REX YOU RETARDED DOOF! SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
Only Rex was waaay too into his song to care. I mean, he was feeling the groove. Swaying around the room with a bottle in one hand, and his other clenched around an air microphone.
Mo-tion Pic-ture
Mo-tion Pic-ture
I wanna be in a motion picture...lalalala
So she came up from his side, and from out of nowhere, latched a handcuff around the wrist that had the bottle. And with shocking strength, pulled him straight to the iron bedframe - at least 10 feet away, and locked the other bracelet around a big pole. The big doof barely even noticed. He just kept on singing his damn stupid song.
I wanna be in a motion picture.
"Rex," she said loudly and clearly. "If you don't shut up right now, I'm going to pull off your legs." He really didn't hear her. Or else, he really didn't believe her. That was, in my opinion, his mistake.
She got up, and went into a closet. She dragged out a large, and very heavy cardboard box. In the middle of the room, she opened it, and pulled out a big winch - like the kind you see on the front of heavy Army trucks. She carried it into the bathroom, which was sort of kitty-corner from the bed. There were some clanking noises that came from in there. Then she came out with a cable, and wrapped it around Rex's legs. Rex was still lost in song.
Mo-tion pic-ture, mo-tion, picture, motion picture, I wanna be in a...
"I'll show you a fucking motion picture." She said, walked into the bathroom, and the next thing I knew there was the sound of mechanical grating, and the cable got tighter. Rex stopped singing, and started screaming. I watched as his pants got tighter around his legs,
and his body began to straighten out - pulled from the one arm handcuffed to the
bed rail, and his legs wrapped around a winch cable. I decided it would be best if I didn't watch the rest.
When I opened my eyes, the bed was across the room, Rex was pouring blood from two stumps where his legs used to be, and she was covered in blood from head to toe. She said,
"How's that for a goddamn motion picture."
I paused for a second, and spoke,
"I think we're going to need more booze. I'll go get some. Start figuring out how to clean this shit up." I stood up and headed for the door.
"Yeah," She said, "that sounds like a good idea. I sure can't go out for anything!" She cackled madly as I walked out.
I walked away from the scene, never intending to buy her, or us anything ever again. She was a nice girl. She didn't seem like the kind of girl who would rip the legs off of a cricket. God, did I just think "cricket?" I must not be in the right frame of mind after just going through all that. She didn't seem like the kind of girl who would rip the legs off of a man. But then again, how well do you know anyone?
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
It's not as exciting a comeback as I'd hoped...
But I have been trying to catch up on all the information I've been missing over the last two months.
However, I did find some suuuper kickass rayguns!
Happy hunchbacking.
However, I did find some suuuper kickass rayguns!
Happy hunchbacking.
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Monday, September 04, 2006
Yeah - the last few months have been grim
But I've still been looking out for yas.
My explanation is a couple posts down. But this is worth checking out.
My explanation is a couple posts down. But this is worth checking out.
Where'd you go?
I miss you so...seems like forever since you've been gone...
So - after numerous adventures, tall tales, long stories, and hideous piles of crap...we're back up here at the West Coast Branch of Fjord.
In the last week and a half, I've violated the southern boarder, spread my own particular brand of mayhem across Mexico (which I highly recommend) slept for two days, took a jet to the pacific northwest for a long weekend of island-hopping around the San Juan Islands.
Now that the vacation gods have been satiated, consider me back - cool as fuck, dangerous as hell.
-Tsunami-
So - after numerous adventures, tall tales, long stories, and hideous piles of crap...we're back up here at the West Coast Branch of Fjord.
In the last week and a half, I've violated the southern boarder, spread my own particular brand of mayhem across Mexico (which I highly recommend) slept for two days, took a jet to the pacific northwest for a long weekend of island-hopping around the San Juan Islands.
Now that the vacation gods have been satiated, consider me back - cool as fuck, dangerous as hell.
-Tsunami-
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Whatcha' Doin'?
Since the crack team of Fjord Information Technology consists of three Recon Monkeys a rock and two sticks, it’s been a while since we’ve gotten anywhere. However, there are mumblings that in mere days, said I.T. monkeys will have discovered “fire” whereupon we can roast all the Fjordsmores™ we can eat.
This is all rumor and conjecture, but isn’t that what Fjord’s all about?
This is all rumor and conjecture, but isn’t that what Fjord’s all about?
Thursday, August 03, 2006
A short pronouncement by the Herald of the King of the Swamp People.
Three trumpeters stand forth and blow, trying to sound regal…but they are, after all, Swamp People and it's kinda' pathetic. The Herald walks forward with arrogant steps. His words will be the words o the King! He unscrolls a scroll, and the crowd falls silent. He reads.
“The King of the Swamp People commands that the rotting corpse of Kenneth Lay be brought before his throne.”
The Herald clears his throat, and continues.
"Time may have forgotten that scoundrel of the highest order, but the King of the Swamp People has not. So in order that those of his subjects do not forget that Kenneth Lay died in his mansion in Colorado, instead of in a jail cell fifty years from now, the King will display the corpse of Mister Lay in a 4x5 metal cage, until the day that all flesh is stripped from his body by the animals or elements, and from that moment, another five years. After that, Mister Lay will be free to be buried in a place of his choosing."
The man…or woman who accomplishes this task shall be deemed “Hero of the Swamp People, Upholder of the King’s Decrees, and promptly satisfied sexually in whichever way they see fit for a period of 40 days.”
The Herald scrolls back his scroll, spins on his feet, and walks away.
“The King of the Swamp People commands that the rotting corpse of Kenneth Lay be brought before his throne.”
The Herald clears his throat, and continues.
"Time may have forgotten that scoundrel of the highest order, but the King of the Swamp People has not. So in order that those of his subjects do not forget that Kenneth Lay died in his mansion in Colorado, instead of in a jail cell fifty years from now, the King will display the corpse of Mister Lay in a 4x5 metal cage, until the day that all flesh is stripped from his body by the animals or elements, and from that moment, another five years. After that, Mister Lay will be free to be buried in a place of his choosing."
The man…or woman who accomplishes this task shall be deemed “Hero of the Swamp People, Upholder of the King’s Decrees, and promptly satisfied sexually in whichever way they see fit for a period of 40 days.”
The Herald scrolls back his scroll, spins on his feet, and walks away.
Thursday, July 20, 2006
...standing...Hey SPACE MUMMIES!
Ohmygodohmygodohmygawd!
(please excuse the fake enthusiasm, but there's been little to be enthusiastic about lately)
(please excuse the fake enthusiasm, but there's been little to be enthusiastic about lately)
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
...standing...(wow, long time no?)
Yep - got a compooter that works, but now some bad connection issues. I'll keep ya posted when I get a chance.
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Friday, July 07, 2006
Still standing by...(dang)
So after the internets were fixed, the whole compooter fell apart. So unfortunately there won't be much going on until that's fixed.
Until then you can read this.
Happy Friday
Until then you can read this.
Happy Friday
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Standing by to blog...
It was the 4th o' July weekend, and there were more than a few things that blew up over that span of time.
1) my internets-connection
and
2) my liquor budget
3) my guts (see #2)
Anyhoo...since most of those things are nearly back to normal, Fjord is standing by...
1) my internets-connection
and
2) my liquor budget
3) my guts (see #2)
Anyhoo...since most of those things are nearly back to normal, Fjord is standing by...
Monday, June 26, 2006
Better late than never, I supposed.
So last (er...the weekend before the last) I went to see Tony Bennett. As you might remember I won a couple of seats, and was pretty dang happy about it. So, after finding a suitably awesome date, I found myself hurtling at a rapid pace towards the Kodak Theater.
Somehow the joint seems bigger during the Academy Awards, but it's still pretty pimp. When you stroll in, there's a great expanse of nice carpet, and at the end, a swank bar, the type that has bottles backlit on tall shelves. On the right is a wide curvey staircase that, to put it bluntly, made me feel like I was in a very glamorous 40's movie. The effect was capped by an upper level bar, that kind of drifted into view as I got to the top.
Anyways, since the show was the 10th Anniversary Celebration of the Mancini Institute, they had the Mancini Institute Orchestra step out, and they started with some number I'd never heard, while they showed a montage of Mancini video. After that they played the Pink Panther, which was pretty bad-assed.
Then they said some words.
Anyways, the Orchestra then did a medley of John Williams songs. Star Wars, Jaws, Superman, Indiana Jones...which was also pretty smashing. Then John Williams came out, and conducted something he'd written for Memoirs of a Geisha. I didn't know it.
Then they said some words.
However, what I caught was, "John Williams was Mancini's piano player when he wrote "Peter Gun" (Gunn? - anyways, I thought that was kinda' cool)
Then Bennett came out, along with a 4 piece combo, piano, bass, guitar and drums - who all really ripped. For a guy who's 79, Tony seemed to be pretty spry. He did some softshoe which was rad, and wasn't afraid to skat a bit on a couple of songs. He always pulled some great move at the end of each song, ending in a pose, or hand gesture that seemed pretty right-on at the time. As for selections, well, he did a bunch I can't name, but I totally loved "Stepping Out", and tho I'm not a huge fan, was happy to hear him sing "I Left My Heart In S.F."
After most of the set was over he commented about how much he loved the theater, and then had the sound guy kill all the amps, and set down his microphone. Then he walked up to the front of the stage with his guitar player - and he proceeded to sing "Fly Me to the Moon." That was the topper. He sounded great, even if it was really soft, he carried to the corners of the place.
Shortly after, he split, and came back for three separate rounds of applause, and that was that.
Somehow the joint seems bigger during the Academy Awards, but it's still pretty pimp. When you stroll in, there's a great expanse of nice carpet, and at the end, a swank bar, the type that has bottles backlit on tall shelves. On the right is a wide curvey staircase that, to put it bluntly, made me feel like I was in a very glamorous 40's movie. The effect was capped by an upper level bar, that kind of drifted into view as I got to the top.
Anyways, since the show was the 10th Anniversary Celebration of the Mancini Institute, they had the Mancini Institute Orchestra step out, and they started with some number I'd never heard, while they showed a montage of Mancini video. After that they played the Pink Panther, which was pretty bad-assed.
Then they said some words.
Anyways, the Orchestra then did a medley of John Williams songs. Star Wars, Jaws, Superman, Indiana Jones...which was also pretty smashing. Then John Williams came out, and conducted something he'd written for Memoirs of a Geisha. I didn't know it.
Then they said some words.
However, what I caught was, "John Williams was Mancini's piano player when he wrote "Peter Gun" (Gunn? - anyways, I thought that was kinda' cool)
Then Bennett came out, along with a 4 piece combo, piano, bass, guitar and drums - who all really ripped. For a guy who's 79, Tony seemed to be pretty spry. He did some softshoe which was rad, and wasn't afraid to skat a bit on a couple of songs. He always pulled some great move at the end of each song, ending in a pose, or hand gesture that seemed pretty right-on at the time. As for selections, well, he did a bunch I can't name, but I totally loved "Stepping Out", and tho I'm not a huge fan, was happy to hear him sing "I Left My Heart In S.F."
After most of the set was over he commented about how much he loved the theater, and then had the sound guy kill all the amps, and set down his microphone. Then he walked up to the front of the stage with his guitar player - and he proceeded to sing "Fly Me to the Moon." That was the topper. He sounded great, even if it was really soft, he carried to the corners of the place.
Shortly after, he split, and came back for three separate rounds of applause, and that was that.
Friday, June 23, 2006
And now...[plans for Friday]
I'm not exactly saying it's over...
but it seems to be over.
"There are times..." Friday said while nimbly kicking a soccer ball up and juggling it with his feet. "That you get lost. Where you don't know what's coming next, and you're bored, and you have PLAN ZERO! It's just a thing. It happens to everyone." He kicked the ball high into the air, and headed it over to Thursday, who bounced it off his head, and proceeded to knock it around a bit.
"What do you mean?" Tuesday spoke, "Is that what happened to you?"
"Yeah! It's weird, no prospects, no contacts, no ideas...it's crazy man!" Said Friday, bending over a large Gatoraid cooler that was filled with savory margaritas, and he filled then drank a paper cup full, crumpled the cup, and threw it in the general direction of a trash barrel.
"So if I were to ask you," Began Wednesday, who then exclaimed "FUCK!" As Thursday passed the ball over. Wednesday lashed a foot out, and launched the ball high into the air. It seemed as tho Monday might have a chance. "What are we going to do tonight? You'd reply...?"
"Plan Zero."
Monday got under the ball, and trapped it off his chest, then he made it meander around his feet for a bit.
"It almost sounds like," Thursday said with a slow drawl, while pulling out a pack of smokes. He fired one up, and said while exhailing, "That Plan Zero is an actual plan."
Friday got another paper cup, and repeated his earlier performance. "Oh, believe me, it is! Now, all we have to do is get three tons of whipped cream, two helicopters, a mess of pastrami sandwiches on croissants, 500 banannas, and a bunch of "out of order" signs. That's just the start. The rest, we can get on the way!"
Happy Friday
but it seems to be over.
"There are times..." Friday said while nimbly kicking a soccer ball up and juggling it with his feet. "That you get lost. Where you don't know what's coming next, and you're bored, and you have PLAN ZERO! It's just a thing. It happens to everyone." He kicked the ball high into the air, and headed it over to Thursday, who bounced it off his head, and proceeded to knock it around a bit.
"What do you mean?" Tuesday spoke, "Is that what happened to you?"
"Yeah! It's weird, no prospects, no contacts, no ideas...it's crazy man!" Said Friday, bending over a large Gatoraid cooler that was filled with savory margaritas, and he filled then drank a paper cup full, crumpled the cup, and threw it in the general direction of a trash barrel.
"So if I were to ask you," Began Wednesday, who then exclaimed "FUCK!" As Thursday passed the ball over. Wednesday lashed a foot out, and launched the ball high into the air. It seemed as tho Monday might have a chance. "What are we going to do tonight? You'd reply...?"
"Plan Zero."
Monday got under the ball, and trapped it off his chest, then he made it meander around his feet for a bit.
"It almost sounds like," Thursday said with a slow drawl, while pulling out a pack of smokes. He fired one up, and said while exhailing, "That Plan Zero is an actual plan."
Friday got another paper cup, and repeated his earlier performance. "Oh, believe me, it is! Now, all we have to do is get three tons of whipped cream, two helicopters, a mess of pastrami sandwiches on croissants, 500 banannas, and a bunch of "out of order" signs. That's just the start. The rest, we can get on the way!"
Happy Friday
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Liars...thieves...
People, well, some people, appreciate a good swindle. (good word that, swindle)
Usually, those people are not the people that get swindled. They're the people who watch from the backside as it's happening, like a magic show. They snicker at the rube who fell for it, even though they would have fallen for the same thing. Like a game of three card Monte, it's tough to beat a guy who has all the cards.
The old saying, "can't cheat an honest man," was actually coined by the old con-men from back in the day...late 1800's, early 1900's. The way they operated back then was to hook a man with a sure thing. The sure thing was always something sketchy..."I know a guy who works at the track - he calls me when the race starts, and tells me who wins. The gambling den gets it's information by telegraph - there's a 2 minute delay between the time the race ends at the track, and the time the gambling house knows who won. We just walk up, place the bet, and it's easy money."
There's usually a small demonstration (or three or four) with low stakes, where the mark finds himself in the middle of a cash generating machine. An honest man, would have nothing to do with this, and even if he'd stuck around after a demonstration or two, he'd have some compunction against continuing. But a normal, greedy man would be hooked. That's when the con-man would say, "My guy's getting the can, he's loosing his job tomorrow. We've only got one more race where we can cash in. Get everything you can!" So the guy goes, invests his life savings into the sure thing, and sure enough, gets cleaned out.
I suppose that's where the real story is...if you're rootin' for the thieves, well, you'd now want to see what they spent their money on. Or if you felt sorry for the rube, I guess you'd want to see either 1) how he picked himself up from being ruined and became an honest man. Or 2) how he picked himself up from being ruined and hunted down the bastards that tricked him, and shot them all in the head. I obviously don't know much about anything, but I'm telling you this, I'd much rather see Bruce Willis in the starring role of #2.
Usually, those people are not the people that get swindled. They're the people who watch from the backside as it's happening, like a magic show. They snicker at the rube who fell for it, even though they would have fallen for the same thing. Like a game of three card Monte, it's tough to beat a guy who has all the cards.
The old saying, "can't cheat an honest man," was actually coined by the old con-men from back in the day...late 1800's, early 1900's. The way they operated back then was to hook a man with a sure thing. The sure thing was always something sketchy..."I know a guy who works at the track - he calls me when the race starts, and tells me who wins. The gambling den gets it's information by telegraph - there's a 2 minute delay between the time the race ends at the track, and the time the gambling house knows who won. We just walk up, place the bet, and it's easy money."
There's usually a small demonstration (or three or four) with low stakes, where the mark finds himself in the middle of a cash generating machine. An honest man, would have nothing to do with this, and even if he'd stuck around after a demonstration or two, he'd have some compunction against continuing. But a normal, greedy man would be hooked. That's when the con-man would say, "My guy's getting the can, he's loosing his job tomorrow. We've only got one more race where we can cash in. Get everything you can!" So the guy goes, invests his life savings into the sure thing, and sure enough, gets cleaned out.
I suppose that's where the real story is...if you're rootin' for the thieves, well, you'd now want to see what they spent their money on. Or if you felt sorry for the rube, I guess you'd want to see either 1) how he picked himself up from being ruined and became an honest man. Or 2) how he picked himself up from being ruined and hunted down the bastards that tricked him, and shot them all in the head. I obviously don't know much about anything, but I'm telling you this, I'd much rather see Bruce Willis in the starring role of #2.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
1st Day of Summer
I walked through the big dirty city today. It was hot, and I was slimy...I should say covered with a layer of sweat, since I'm always slimy.
I went to a little far-away place I knew, and got a roast beef croissant sandwich, and ate it while reading about some rediculousness from the government in the latest New Yorker. I didn't much care about the article, there's always some crap you can read about the government, and you can find something every day. It doesn't change, I was just reading cause I don't like sitting and eating by myself.
I left the joint and asked for a light from a girl who was standing near the doorway. She fished out a sunglasses case, flicked it open, and pulled out a lighter. While she was opening it, I eyed her up like she was dessert. I didn't mean to, it just happened. I thanked her, and went on my way.
I strolled back, keeping to the side of the street that had the shadows, and wondered if anything interesting was going to happen today. Sometimes you go through the whole day in a city with 18 million people, and nothing at all happens. Maybe that's because I'm just not slimy enough.
I went to a little far-away place I knew, and got a roast beef croissant sandwich, and ate it while reading about some rediculousness from the government in the latest New Yorker. I didn't much care about the article, there's always some crap you can read about the government, and you can find something every day. It doesn't change, I was just reading cause I don't like sitting and eating by myself.
I left the joint and asked for a light from a girl who was standing near the doorway. She fished out a sunglasses case, flicked it open, and pulled out a lighter. While she was opening it, I eyed her up like she was dessert. I didn't mean to, it just happened. I thanked her, and went on my way.
I strolled back, keeping to the side of the street that had the shadows, and wondered if anything interesting was going to happen today. Sometimes you go through the whole day in a city with 18 million people, and nothing at all happens. Maybe that's because I'm just not slimy enough.
Sunday, June 18, 2006
Saturday, June 17, 2006
It's not Mr. Scorpion, it's Mr. Scorpio, but don't call me that either. Call me Hank!
Might be the best boss ever.
From a hella good episode, I might add.
There's tons more to see over at my personal omniscience page.
From a hella good episode, I might add.
There's tons more to see over at my personal omniscience page.
The Fjordian Wold Cup
I'm pretty excited about the whole soccer thing - when I get a chance to watch. But apart from the crappy network coverage is giving - they're giving NONE to THIS!
Which is sad, cause I'd watch that too.
Which is sad, cause I'd watch that too.
Friday, June 16, 2006
So now *shudders*
In the background, large creatures are circling over the remains of the week. Whatever it was, it was a BIG WEEK, since it took damn near two full months of real-time to get thu it. But here in the Fjords, one can hear the soft trickle of icy cold streams, and the wind blowing over soft yielding grasses. Not to mention the picture-esqe meeting of ocean and steep-walled valleys. Yes, things are all right here.
Over to the right, you might notice on the top of that large granite outcrop, a well built gazebo. Follow the stairs carved into the stone and you'll get right up there. What pleasures await you at the Fjordian Gazebo? Well, walk along the dark wood decking, and we'll start off with the huge pig on a spit, being spun over a fire-pit by two extremely Norse-looking dudes. That's going to be good later. Only ten paces away from that, and howabout the full bar? They only seem to have Scandinavian vodka, but that'll do in a pinch. (besides, it doesn't seem like they're charging for anything)
Past that, it seems there's a small casino with loaded dice and marked cards. It's hard to imagine how so many people could be winning without them. Past that, you'll see a small travel kiosk. Nothing too remarkable except they're flying people out of the Fjord (granted there's a long stairway down) on sweet flying boats to every destination on the planet for pennies on the dollar.
To the left, humungus television screens show various movies and relevant sporting events. (man this is getting to be a pretty big gazebo - huh?) Beyond that, a bunch of mechanics are working on specially designed hill-climbing motorcycles...come nine o'clock, there's going to be a race. It'll be great.
There's a stripper-pole exhibition at 10, and a limbo competition at 11, which'll be a ton of fun. Now, if you'll excuse me, I see Friday and his merry band of conversationalists, and I have to at least say "hello." So have fun, and don't be afraid to ask someone - anyone, where you might find something you might like. So, see ya. I gotta' scram.
Happy Friday
Over to the right, you might notice on the top of that large granite outcrop, a well built gazebo. Follow the stairs carved into the stone and you'll get right up there. What pleasures await you at the Fjordian Gazebo? Well, walk along the dark wood decking, and we'll start off with the huge pig on a spit, being spun over a fire-pit by two extremely Norse-looking dudes. That's going to be good later. Only ten paces away from that, and howabout the full bar? They only seem to have Scandinavian vodka, but that'll do in a pinch. (besides, it doesn't seem like they're charging for anything)
Past that, it seems there's a small casino with loaded dice and marked cards. It's hard to imagine how so many people could be winning without them. Past that, you'll see a small travel kiosk. Nothing too remarkable except they're flying people out of the Fjord (granted there's a long stairway down) on sweet flying boats to every destination on the planet for pennies on the dollar.
To the left, humungus television screens show various movies and relevant sporting events. (man this is getting to be a pretty big gazebo - huh?) Beyond that, a bunch of mechanics are working on specially designed hill-climbing motorcycles...come nine o'clock, there's going to be a race. It'll be great.
There's a stripper-pole exhibition at 10, and a limbo competition at 11, which'll be a ton of fun. Now, if you'll excuse me, I see Friday and his merry band of conversationalists, and I have to at least say "hello." So have fun, and don't be afraid to ask someone - anyone, where you might find something you might like. So, see ya. I gotta' scram.
Happy Friday
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
After all this time, you think I'm still joking around?
Now they're robbing banks!
Jackson, Miss. (AP) --
Jackson police have not said whether a suspect arrested Friday on firearms charges is the man who wore bandages like a mummy when he walked into a bank, jumped the counter, stuffed his clothes with money and escaped on foot.
Montaries Brooks, 26, of Jackson, was being questioned Friday night regarding the robbery and was charged as a convicted felon in possession of a firearm. He was being held Saturday in the Hinds County Detention Center.
Police arrested Brooks shortly before noon Friday at an apartment, where a SWAT team had converged shortly after the bank robbery. Sgt. Joseph Wade said the robber walked into the Trustmark Bank on Terry Road, wearing bandages about 10 a.m.
"He was fully bandaged," Wade said, including his face and arms. "The only things they could see were his eyes and lips. He asked a teller for help, then jumped over the counter and began taking money out of the drawer," Wade said.
The robber, who Wade said never showed a weapon, stuffed the money into his clothes and ran. Police would not disclose how much money was stolen.
Notice they didn't say that the suspect robber was a "man" or a "mummy" (probly in order to not cause a panic) In fact, they don't want to say if it's the mummy-robber they caught! And they also didn't mention (if they caught the actual mummy) why said mummy needed the cash in the first place. It's pretty damn suspicious.
I'd speculate the mummies need cash in order to:
1) Bribe potential (and foolish) humans to help them with their nefarious plans. (since inevitably helping mummies will lead to their downfall - either from those (like us) dedicated to eradicating mummies and their helpers everywhere, or by mummies themselves, who will surely suck their soul once their usefulness has expired.
2) Purchase weapons systems to defend themselves against my growing army of flamethrower-tanks, and my flamethrower-armed F.A.M.C's (Fjordian Anti-Mummy Corps - which you all know "corps" is pronounced KOR - right? Riiiight, I knew you knew that.)
Anyways, in case my forward-looking anti-mummy thinking has missed a mark or two, just be on high alert for the next few days/weeks/months...cause those insidious bastards might be up to something way bigger than what I/we've prepared for.
Thanks.
-Tsunami-
Jackson, Miss. (AP) --
Jackson police have not said whether a suspect arrested Friday on firearms charges is the man who wore bandages like a mummy when he walked into a bank, jumped the counter, stuffed his clothes with money and escaped on foot.
Montaries Brooks, 26, of Jackson, was being questioned Friday night regarding the robbery and was charged as a convicted felon in possession of a firearm. He was being held Saturday in the Hinds County Detention Center.
Police arrested Brooks shortly before noon Friday at an apartment, where a SWAT team had converged shortly after the bank robbery. Sgt. Joseph Wade said the robber walked into the Trustmark Bank on Terry Road, wearing bandages about 10 a.m.
"He was fully bandaged," Wade said, including his face and arms. "The only things they could see were his eyes and lips. He asked a teller for help, then jumped over the counter and began taking money out of the drawer," Wade said.
The robber, who Wade said never showed a weapon, stuffed the money into his clothes and ran. Police would not disclose how much money was stolen.
Notice they didn't say that the suspect robber was a "man" or a "mummy" (probly in order to not cause a panic) In fact, they don't want to say if it's the mummy-robber they caught! And they also didn't mention (if they caught the actual mummy) why said mummy needed the cash in the first place. It's pretty damn suspicious.
I'd speculate the mummies need cash in order to:
1) Bribe potential (and foolish) humans to help them with their nefarious plans. (since inevitably helping mummies will lead to their downfall - either from those (like us) dedicated to eradicating mummies and their helpers everywhere, or by mummies themselves, who will surely suck their soul once their usefulness has expired.
2) Purchase weapons systems to defend themselves against my growing army of flamethrower-tanks, and my flamethrower-armed F.A.M.C's (Fjordian Anti-Mummy Corps - which you all know "corps" is pronounced KOR - right? Riiiight, I knew you knew that.)
Anyways, in case my forward-looking anti-mummy thinking has missed a mark or two, just be on high alert for the next few days/weeks/months...cause those insidious bastards might be up to something way bigger than what I/we've prepared for.
Thanks.
-Tsunami-
Monday, June 12, 2006
Saturday, June 10, 2006
APARTMENT ROCK
***Rare live appearance by APT.ROCK***
Set time is 11:00pm - 11:03pm. Right before Soho
Vamp. Witness history.
More than a few few people have criticized us for even thinking about performing a song, since our shtick is having no tunes whatsoever, and by default, being better than 94% of the bands that exist.
However...our pals Soho Vamp are soooo kickass that when they needed help, Apt. Rock couldn't say no.
So, if you happen to be in Los Angel-eeze tonight, swing by the Lava Lounge, and as the man says, "witness history."
YES!
Sometimes the world conspires to please me. There's really no other way to explain this.
I'm sure this is one of those links that will evaporate after not too long, so here's a taste...
A Missouri woman has been arrested for breaking into a dog breeder's home and beating her repeatedly over the head with a dead Chihuahua, local media reported.
(...)
When she got outside she started hitting the breeder on the head with the dead puppy, drawing the attention of a neighbour who called police.
I'm sure this is one of those links that will evaporate after not too long, so here's a taste...
A Missouri woman has been arrested for breaking into a dog breeder's home and beating her repeatedly over the head with a dead Chihuahua, local media reported.
(...)
When she got outside she started hitting the breeder on the head with the dead puppy, drawing the attention of a neighbour who called police.
You can get lost here
And you should.
I've found more than a few sites like this one, from various other locations. If anyone knows of others, lemme know.
I've found more than a few sites like this one, from various other locations. If anyone knows of others, lemme know.
Friday, June 09, 2006
There's nothing like
A sense of place.I was reading a local rag in my local plaza, and came across an article that was an obituary for a local D.J. The quote that caught my attention ended with "[he had]...an undeniable L.A. based international swagger."
There's enough for anyone, anywhere, in everyone's daily life to never appreciate where their at - location wise - until you get to somewhere else, in which case you're instantly a representative of where you just came from.
It's not a matter of justification (altho sometimes it gets that way) tons of times "place" is just what works out thru circumstance. Having a "choice" of place is determined a lot more by economics than it is by personal desire or family gravity. (not to say those aren't super powerful attractions)
Still, every once in a while, it's nice to be reminded that there's something very important about the forces that bind you to a specific geographical location on a practically microscopic point on the planet. For some reason you're grounded right where you're at. Maybe it's cause you needed it, and maybe it's cause it needed you. Or maybe it's too complicated to answer. Either way, if you don't have a reason for being where you're at, find one. Since sooner or later, someone's going to ask, "Why are you there!?"
And most probly, the place that your at (in comparison with a bunch of others) doesn't really suck at all.
Happy Friday
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
So as I...
Sat around looking for things to blogger on about, I was listening to the better local college radio station their programming slid into their "post 6 o'clock" stuff which usually offers none of the good stuff, 'cept on Wednesdays where there's a show called "The Jazz Journey" which I'd usually shut down, but they have a nice intro-tune, and then the fella' usually plays stuff that's agreeable. Anyhoo, it turn out they have a couple of women on the show tonight - and those women turn out to be the daughters of Henry Mancini.
So I'm listening to some pretty groovy cocktail music while I'm still looking for things to write about, when I hear something in the background about Tony Bennett performing down the street from the Casa Aloha, which perks up my ears a little. Suddenly, the D.J. says, "Allright, I've talked to the lovely Mancini daughters, and we've come up with a question, that, if you can answer, you'll get tickets to the 10th Anniversary Party of the Mancini Institute, where Tony Bennett will be performing." One of the daughters gets on the mike, and asks, "What was the name of the cat in "Breakfast at Tiffany's?"
So I quick dial the number, and sure enough, (it being college radio and all) I get thru as the first caller. "KXLU." The D.J. speaks, which comes thru my phone receiver, and my radio at the same time.
"Hi!" I say, turning down my voice blaring out of my radio. "Was it CAT!?" I finish, which breaks everyone in the studio up, (as I guess they through it was hard) and after a moment or two, I'm getting my tickets reserved at will-call. After giving all my pertinent information, I hang up the phone and shout..."KICKASS!" Loud enough so the Casa rings with my triumph.
I've always wanted to see Tony Bennett...he's the last of the golden age of crooners that mingled with the likes of Sinatra, and he's still got pipes. (at least four years ago I thought so when I saw him perform on some cable deal) The cheap seats at this event are $62 bucks - which is way more than I'd ever pay to see anyone, seriously. So I guess to conclude, I'd like to take a line from a W.B. Cartoon and say...
"After all this time, things are finally starting to go my way."
'Course, that only leaves me with 10 days to find a date to a gala extravaganza. I imagine there will be more than a few misadventures while I try and make that one happen. If any are worth repeating, I'll be sure and let you know.
-Tsunami-
So I'm listening to some pretty groovy cocktail music while I'm still looking for things to write about, when I hear something in the background about Tony Bennett performing down the street from the Casa Aloha, which perks up my ears a little. Suddenly, the D.J. says, "Allright, I've talked to the lovely Mancini daughters, and we've come up with a question, that, if you can answer, you'll get tickets to the 10th Anniversary Party of the Mancini Institute, where Tony Bennett will be performing." One of the daughters gets on the mike, and asks, "What was the name of the cat in "Breakfast at Tiffany's?"
So I quick dial the number, and sure enough, (it being college radio and all) I get thru as the first caller. "KXLU." The D.J. speaks, which comes thru my phone receiver, and my radio at the same time.
"Hi!" I say, turning down my voice blaring out of my radio. "Was it CAT!?" I finish, which breaks everyone in the studio up, (as I guess they through it was hard) and after a moment or two, I'm getting my tickets reserved at will-call. After giving all my pertinent information, I hang up the phone and shout..."KICKASS!" Loud enough so the Casa rings with my triumph.
I've always wanted to see Tony Bennett...he's the last of the golden age of crooners that mingled with the likes of Sinatra, and he's still got pipes. (at least four years ago I thought so when I saw him perform on some cable deal) The cheap seats at this event are $62 bucks - which is way more than I'd ever pay to see anyone, seriously. So I guess to conclude, I'd like to take a line from a W.B. Cartoon and say...
"After all this time, things are finally starting to go my way."
'Course, that only leaves me with 10 days to find a date to a gala extravaganza. I imagine there will be more than a few misadventures while I try and make that one happen. If any are worth repeating, I'll be sure and let you know.
-Tsunami-
More Multi-Media!!!
Isn't this exciting?!? Pictures, and now VIDEO?
(trying to make up for writing slack-ittude, I'm sure.)
From our pals at We-Make-Money-Not-Art...which you should visit a ton.
(trying to make up for writing slack-ittude, I'm sure.)
From our pals at We-Make-Money-Not-Art...which you should visit a ton.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
CLONES!
There was a massive event over the weekend I wanted to touch on...
A RACE OF CLONES!!!!
It seems two clones from the same mule, ran a race...and both lost to a "normal." Which in my book is a good thing. I don't want rampant cloning going on, unless it's to provide my body with harvestable organs I'm rapidly killing with a hard living Hollywood lifestyle.
A RACE OF CLONES!!!!
It seems two clones from the same mule, ran a race...and both lost to a "normal." Which in my book is a good thing. I don't want rampant cloning going on, unless it's to provide my body with harvestable organs I'm rapidly killing with a hard living Hollywood lifestyle.
Finally - Some Pre-Event Robotic News.
Not through lack of trying, but I usually find out about these things the day of, or after they occur. But if you're looking for some real robotic destruction, get ye to San Jose.SRL will be performing on August 11 in San Jose.
I've seen just one of SRL's *ahem* performances, (I mentioned it here)but it was staggeringly cool. If you wanna go, you should start saving now, cause it'll be worth it. Maybe by that time, we might have enough funding to send a correspondent to capture it for you Fjordlings. Maybe.
Perhaps some photos might sweeten the deal
Filed Under
Shoulda' Seen it Coming.
Now it's pets?
Christ. That's gonna be a lot more mummies.
Guess we should get a few more of these...
DAMN YOU MUMMY CATS! DAMN YOU TO HELL!
Now it's pets?
Christ. That's gonna be a lot more mummies.
Guess we should get a few more of these...
DAMN YOU MUMMY CATS! DAMN YOU TO HELL!
Friday, June 02, 2006
Rising Above Mediocrity
Anyone can destroy anything. Period.
Making something from nothing is a tad more difficult than they make it out to be. Ripping something apart, hell, we all know there are enough forces out there to bring things down by themselves. Make a concentrated effort to do it, and you've got entropy on your side. (wait long enough and the Golden Gate, the Empire State, and the Hoover Dam will be gone without doing anything) I wonder if that's the strongest thing about humanity - that realizing how much the universe really wants to rip things apart into their molecular components, that we keep on making buildings, and societies, and teevee, and music, and videogames.
I had a dream, it was one of those recurring ones where the same scene gets played out over and over, but a little longer each time. The characters were me, and a very cute girl done up in a witches outfit. We went thru the motions that we'd gone thru for the last five nights of the dream, and then, over a boiling cauldron of witches brew, she said, "So, do you know what I'm doing?" And I replied, "Either your here to cast a spell..." To which she walked away from the cauldron, and looked at me with the kind of look that made me feel good about ending a sentence with "..." "Or you're not really here." To which she replied, "That's right. I'm a ghost. I'm not really here."
Now everyone knows a person in a dream isn't quite real, but a dream ghost? C'mon, what the hell is that?!? Is someone now haunting my dreams with ghosts!?? Most likely, I'd say, since more than a few things have been out of equilibrium over the last couple of weeks. However, since "anyone can destroy anything. Period." I'd also like to suggest that perhaps the most dangerous destroyer of anything, might be yourself.
Happy Friday
Making something from nothing is a tad more difficult than they make it out to be. Ripping something apart, hell, we all know there are enough forces out there to bring things down by themselves. Make a concentrated effort to do it, and you've got entropy on your side. (wait long enough and the Golden Gate, the Empire State, and the Hoover Dam will be gone without doing anything) I wonder if that's the strongest thing about humanity - that realizing how much the universe really wants to rip things apart into their molecular components, that we keep on making buildings, and societies, and teevee, and music, and videogames.
I had a dream, it was one of those recurring ones where the same scene gets played out over and over, but a little longer each time. The characters were me, and a very cute girl done up in a witches outfit. We went thru the motions that we'd gone thru for the last five nights of the dream, and then, over a boiling cauldron of witches brew, she said, "So, do you know what I'm doing?" And I replied, "Either your here to cast a spell..." To which she walked away from the cauldron, and looked at me with the kind of look that made me feel good about ending a sentence with "..." "Or you're not really here." To which she replied, "That's right. I'm a ghost. I'm not really here."
Now everyone knows a person in a dream isn't quite real, but a dream ghost? C'mon, what the hell is that?!? Is someone now haunting my dreams with ghosts!?? Most likely, I'd say, since more than a few things have been out of equilibrium over the last couple of weeks. However, since "anyone can destroy anything. Period." I'd also like to suggest that perhaps the most dangerous destroyer of anything, might be yourself.
Happy Friday
Thursday, June 01, 2006
Howdy.
Blogger's been a little touchy over the last couple of days, so I started a project I've long been putting off. Transcribing my notes.
It's a long and tedious process, since my "notes" are actually small and medium sized scraps of paper - often with numerous other things on them like "pay phone bill" or "get girlfriend" or 100 other more practical things I was supposed to do on the day I also jotted down something clever. It's not made any easier that sometimes those notes are ON phone bills, or scribbled inexplicably over passwords, e-mail addresses, or pictures of myself.
Before I get back to that, I'll just type down a few that are better than average.
6) Fucking Mutual Bank
21) Cringer
27) Prawns
39)Hey! Don’t bite your claws!
42) Harnessing the cleaning power of ants!
46) IT’S THE B-S-H!! The Bulgarian Submission Hold.
79) I’d rather watch Toyotathon
84) Never underestimate the maraca player. Ever.
Soooo, that's how I'm spending my glamorous Thursday nite. Yep...livin' the dream.
It's a long and tedious process, since my "notes" are actually small and medium sized scraps of paper - often with numerous other things on them like "pay phone bill" or "get girlfriend" or 100 other more practical things I was supposed to do on the day I also jotted down something clever. It's not made any easier that sometimes those notes are ON phone bills, or scribbled inexplicably over passwords, e-mail addresses, or pictures of myself.
Before I get back to that, I'll just type down a few that are better than average.
6) Fucking Mutual Bank
21) Cringer
27) Prawns
39)Hey! Don’t bite your claws!
42) Harnessing the cleaning power of ants!
46) IT’S THE B-S-H!! The Bulgarian Submission Hold.
79) I’d rather watch Toyotathon
84) Never underestimate the maraca player. Ever.
Soooo, that's how I'm spending my glamorous Thursday nite. Yep...livin' the dream.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Bees
Okay, the stove's clean, the pans are washed, and the new poster is up. Perhaps I can duplicate the eaten post.
It goes something like this.
1) The goat is the oldest domesticated food animal.
2) The goat's young is called a kid.
3) The kid bleats out a cry that sounds a hell of a lot like a human offspring (kid)
4) "They" say you should play classical music for an unborn child, as it may make the child smarter.
5) Obviously an unborn child can process and comprehend sounds from outside the womb.
6) Since the goat has been with us since civilization started, obviously their sounds have been too. Which may have resulted in the vocal commonality between kids, and kids. (if you get my drift.) Anyone who's heard the goat bleating, and a human child crying, knows there is some commonality.
7) Now, (human) kids today haven't been around (goat) kids for decades, if not longer, so it's likely that somehow the impressions are passed down thru genetic memory, spiritually, or by some other way we don't quite yet understand.
8) Anyways, I was wondering what (human) kids might have sounded like, before we domesticated goats.
9) Evidence of bee domestication is first found some 5000 years ago in Egypt. (mummies anyone)
10) So what kind of impression have they (with their creepy insect society) have had on our development and evolution.
11) And who named them bees?
It goes something like this.
1) The goat is the oldest domesticated food animal.
2) The goat's young is called a kid.
3) The kid bleats out a cry that sounds a hell of a lot like a human offspring (kid)
4) "They" say you should play classical music for an unborn child, as it may make the child smarter.
5) Obviously an unborn child can process and comprehend sounds from outside the womb.
6) Since the goat has been with us since civilization started, obviously their sounds have been too. Which may have resulted in the vocal commonality between kids, and kids. (if you get my drift.) Anyone who's heard the goat bleating, and a human child crying, knows there is some commonality.
7) Now, (human) kids today haven't been around (goat) kids for decades, if not longer, so it's likely that somehow the impressions are passed down thru genetic memory, spiritually, or by some other way we don't quite yet understand.
8) Anyways, I was wondering what (human) kids might have sounded like, before we domesticated goats.
9) Evidence of bee domestication is first found some 5000 years ago in Egypt. (mummies anyone)
10) So what kind of impression have they (with their creepy insect society) have had on our development and evolution.
11) And who named them bees?
Furious
I had a very clever post that I spent the last 2 hours on, and blogger ate it when I ran the spell check. Guess it serves me right for not saving it. If I get feisty later, I'll try and redo it. But at the moment, I'm just going to do a few things around the Casa, and try not to be furious.
Monday, May 29, 2006
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Holy Hell!!!!!
The train's gone down the track, and I dunno if it'll ever come back.
Your correspondent over at the West Coast Branch has been a little burned out as of late. I've been working like mad on the last draft of a script, been dealing with a mess of chaos down at the Fjord Corporate H.Q., and trying to keep the Casa Aloha Resort running at it's normal high level of efficiency. (and trying to have some sort of life watching sports, maintaining my skills at videogames, and occasionally stepping out on the town.)
It's not been easy.
At least the draft thing is done for now.
So, as a suitable reward, I'm going on vacation. I'll be in the great state of Oregon for the next few days (you might get a farewell post tomorrow if nothing loopy happens). Hopefully upon my return, there'll be a rejuvenate D.Tsunami, who can entertain you with his blogging prowess. (cause right now I'm just not that guy.)
Yers,
Tsunami
<- Where the magic happens...(click to enlarge!)
P.S.
Sometime in the next few/slightly more than few hours, we (your good pals at Fjord) are going to break the 10,000 unique visitors mark. I hope it's you.
Your correspondent over at the West Coast Branch has been a little burned out as of late. I've been working like mad on the last draft of a script, been dealing with a mess of chaos down at the Fjord Corporate H.Q., and trying to keep the Casa Aloha Resort running at it's normal high level of efficiency. (and trying to have some sort of life watching sports, maintaining my skills at videogames, and occasionally stepping out on the town.)
It's not been easy.
At least the draft thing is done for now.
So, as a suitable reward, I'm going on vacation. I'll be in the great state of Oregon for the next few days (you might get a farewell post tomorrow if nothing loopy happens). Hopefully upon my return, there'll be a rejuvenate D.Tsunami, who can entertain you with his blogging prowess. (cause right now I'm just not that guy.)
Yers,
Tsunami
<- Where the magic happens...(click to enlarge!)
P.S.
Sometime in the next few/slightly more than few hours, we (your good pals at Fjord) are going to break the 10,000 unique visitors mark. I hope it's you.
Friday, May 19, 2006
I don't know why...
But I'm starting to get excited. Only 48 more hits, and Fjord will have been visited by 10,000 human beings.
From a little DYI operation, that's a lot of humanids.
Thanks.
-Tsunami-
From a little DYI operation, that's a lot of humanids.
Thanks.
-Tsunami-
FADE IN:
It was late - so late that the day had begun hours ago, and morning was already foreshadowed on the sky outside the penthouse windows. The man was tall, and had slicked-back dark hair. He stood smoking over a silver ashtray looking out at the city. The woman was blond, and lounged on a huge leather couch. She took a sip from a martini glass resting on a coffee table in front of her.
They were both dressed to the nines, he in a tux, and she a rustling evening gown. They had just returned from a night of something, and each felt that particular buzzing energy that comes from a series of interesting social interactions. But in this more intimate setting, there was more happening between them besides a night on the town come-down.
The man snuffed out his cigarette, blew out a stream of smoke and turned from the window.
"You know what I think?"
"What." She replied listlessly as she kicked off her shoes.
"You've been fucking around in poor town."
"Why is it..." She answered in an unemotional statement, "That every time I'm with you, I feel....
bleah."
He walked slowly over to the coffee table in front of the couch, and kneeled with his arms outstretched.
"That's love baby!"
The television screen went dark. The room, went totally black as Tuesday spoke, setting the remote down on the edge of his chair.
"Who writes the dialogue for this crap?"
"Don't be too hard on the writers," Thursday replied, "They're like everyone else doing a job. Sometimes you do great, sometimes you just phone it in, it's a job after all."
Monday chimed in,
"Yeah, but most people don't have jobs that broadcast their work to eight-hundred-million people."
He's got a point." Said Wednesday, "I mean, when we do a crappy job, everyone knows. They feel it...and say to their friends, "Wednesday was awful." But we try, pretty damn hard, right?"
"Oh, like you've never phoned it in?" Asked Thursday. "Not once?"
"Well..."
"Yeah, well..." Thursday began, "There. You have, and I have, and Tuesday has, and Monday too. Sometimes you just can't give your all. Sometimes, you just do what you have to do - and no more. It doesn't make you bad, it doesn't make you evil, it just makes you mundane. Sometimes that's all we're capable of."
The door to the room opened, flooding the room with a huge rectangle of blinding exterior light. In the middle was a dark form that cast a black shadow through the rectangle of white.
Friday, (of course) stood in the open door and spoke,
"That's all we're capable of? Who the fuck knows what they're capable of?"
"I think we kinda' know."
Wednesday replied.
Friday reached over and flicked a light switch, which turned on a small lamp, illuminating the room.
"To quote, I mean paraphrase, I mean...mashup...J. Lennon," Friday began, "life is what happens to you while you're finding out what your capable of. Now get off your asses, and lets go."
Happy Friday
They were both dressed to the nines, he in a tux, and she a rustling evening gown. They had just returned from a night of something, and each felt that particular buzzing energy that comes from a series of interesting social interactions. But in this more intimate setting, there was more happening between them besides a night on the town come-down.
The man snuffed out his cigarette, blew out a stream of smoke and turned from the window.
"You know what I think?"
"What." She replied listlessly as she kicked off her shoes.
"You've been fucking around in poor town."
"Why is it..." She answered in an unemotional statement, "That every time I'm with you, I feel....
bleah."
He walked slowly over to the coffee table in front of the couch, and kneeled with his arms outstretched.
"That's love baby!"
The television screen went dark. The room, went totally black as Tuesday spoke, setting the remote down on the edge of his chair.
"Who writes the dialogue for this crap?"
"Don't be too hard on the writers," Thursday replied, "They're like everyone else doing a job. Sometimes you do great, sometimes you just phone it in, it's a job after all."
Monday chimed in,
"Yeah, but most people don't have jobs that broadcast their work to eight-hundred-million people."
He's got a point." Said Wednesday, "I mean, when we do a crappy job, everyone knows. They feel it...and say to their friends, "Wednesday was awful." But we try, pretty damn hard, right?"
"Oh, like you've never phoned it in?" Asked Thursday. "Not once?"
"Well..."
"Yeah, well..." Thursday began, "There. You have, and I have, and Tuesday has, and Monday too. Sometimes you just can't give your all. Sometimes, you just do what you have to do - and no more. It doesn't make you bad, it doesn't make you evil, it just makes you mundane. Sometimes that's all we're capable of."
The door to the room opened, flooding the room with a huge rectangle of blinding exterior light. In the middle was a dark form that cast a black shadow through the rectangle of white.
Friday, (of course) stood in the open door and spoke,
"That's all we're capable of? Who the fuck knows what they're capable of?"
"I think we kinda' know."
Wednesday replied.
Friday reached over and flicked a light switch, which turned on a small lamp, illuminating the room.
"To quote, I mean paraphrase, I mean...mashup...J. Lennon," Friday began, "life is what happens to you while you're finding out what your capable of. Now get off your asses, and lets go."
Happy Friday
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Do you believe?
It's been a while no?
Not that you astonishingly handsome/beautiful Fjordlings aren't constantly on my mind (cause you are all soooooo worthy of thinking/fantasizing about...but (as I've mentioned) I've been devoting a lot of keyboard energy towards another project that might possibly shift my world from a common resort owner/operator to something much more fantastic! However, there's quite a bit more...I'd like to explain.
I've spent the first 5 months of this year trying to convince myself that this year was going to be different.
The lines of my conversation with myself in the shower for the last few months would begin with something disparaging, then a suitable answer would emerge like..."Yeah, well that's all in the past man, -stop thinking about that shit - it's Twenty-oh-Six! This year, it's different, it's going to happen! Things are going to change, I can feel it."
Well, last year isn't 2 or 3 months ago, last year is super clear, it was LAST YEAR.
This year is already so far along that 2007 is on the horizon, and is starting to close in...at a hell-of-a-lot faster pace than I'd like. It doesn't mean I don't believe. It might feel like '06 is bringing the creep of suck, but I don't buy it. I'm convinced that '06 has a lot of good in store, a lot more than anyone expects. As proof, I have a page of potential post titles that read:
1) THE BEST THING EVER!
2) MY NAME IS BARCO -
3) THE CHRONICLER OF NEBERLUNG
I merely ask, how could you not look forward to that? We're in the belly of '06 - please, don't let it eat you up, - it's not even half way thru. (and if it it does, well, go here for some ideas about how to get out)
P.S.
Whatever this year throws your way,
I'm on your side.
-Tsunami-
Not that you astonishingly handsome/beautiful Fjordlings aren't constantly on my mind (cause you are all soooooo worthy of thinking/fantasizing about...but (as I've mentioned) I've been devoting a lot of keyboard energy towards another project that might possibly shift my world from a common resort owner/operator to something much more fantastic! However, there's quite a bit more...I'd like to explain.
I've spent the first 5 months of this year trying to convince myself that this year was going to be different.
The lines of my conversation with myself in the shower for the last few months would begin with something disparaging, then a suitable answer would emerge like..."Yeah, well that's all in the past man, -stop thinking about that shit - it's Twenty-oh-Six! This year, it's different, it's going to happen! Things are going to change, I can feel it."
Well, last year isn't 2 or 3 months ago, last year is super clear, it was LAST YEAR.
This year is already so far along that 2007 is on the horizon, and is starting to close in...at a hell-of-a-lot faster pace than I'd like. It doesn't mean I don't believe. It might feel like '06 is bringing the creep of suck, but I don't buy it. I'm convinced that '06 has a lot of good in store, a lot more than anyone expects. As proof, I have a page of potential post titles that read:
1) THE BEST THING EVER!
2) MY NAME IS BARCO -
3) THE CHRONICLER OF NEBERLUNG
I merely ask, how could you not look forward to that? We're in the belly of '06 - please, don't let it eat you up, - it's not even half way thru. (and if it it does, well, go here for some ideas about how to get out)
P.S.
Whatever this year throws your way,
I'm on your side.
-Tsunami-
Holy Smoke! A Full-Scale Cyber War!?!?
A master spammer has shut down an internet security company designed to defeat spam.
Blue Security CEO Eran Reshef told El Reg at the time. "My mistake was not anticipating he'd go berserk."
Blue reckons PharmaMaster hired a botnet to launch the assault. During an ICQ conversation, PharmaMaster told Blue Security that if he can't send spam, there will be no internet.
After the attack, Blue Security embarked on restoring its community-based anti-spam service to its members. But after working closely with its service providers and partners to help resolve the problems over the last two weeks, it has come to the conclusion that the risk of further attacks remains too great. Despite moving hosting providers and implementing security defences, Blue reckons it's unable to safely reintroduce its controversial service without exposing other members of the net community to potential attack.
"It's clear to us that [quitting] would be the only thing to prevent a full-scale cyber-war that we just don't have the authority to start," Reshef told washingtonpost.com. "Our users never signed up for this kind of thing."
Blue's decision to shut up shop is understandable but regrettable, because it represents a significant victory by a spammer in the fight to control the internet. In effect, PharmaMaster has succeeded in his main aim of getting Blue Security to dismantle.
Wasn't I just saying something about how it couldn't happen here? Eh, probly not...
Blue Security CEO Eran Reshef told El Reg at the time. "My mistake was not anticipating he'd go berserk."
Blue reckons PharmaMaster hired a botnet to launch the assault. During an ICQ conversation, PharmaMaster told Blue Security that if he can't send spam, there will be no internet.
After the attack, Blue Security embarked on restoring its community-based anti-spam service to its members. But after working closely with its service providers and partners to help resolve the problems over the last two weeks, it has come to the conclusion that the risk of further attacks remains too great. Despite moving hosting providers and implementing security defences, Blue reckons it's unable to safely reintroduce its controversial service without exposing other members of the net community to potential attack.
"It's clear to us that [quitting] would be the only thing to prevent a full-scale cyber-war that we just don't have the authority to start," Reshef told washingtonpost.com. "Our users never signed up for this kind of thing."
Blue's decision to shut up shop is understandable but regrettable, because it represents a significant victory by a spammer in the fight to control the internet. In effect, PharmaMaster has succeeded in his main aim of getting Blue Security to dismantle.
Wasn't I just saying something about how it couldn't happen here? Eh, probly not...
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
It doesn't amaze me anymore
That we still find stuff, just lying around - remnants of once powerful and grand civilizations. It amazes me that for the most part we live oblivious that it could happen "here." Well, I guess there are a whole lot of folks from New Orleans that might whack ya upside the head and say, "Open your fjucking eyes!"
Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to clean up the Casa - it's nearly Summer!
Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to clean up the Casa - it's nearly Summer!
Monday, May 15, 2006
Once again I missed it.
Not all of it, fortunately...but nearly half.
What? You ask.
Why, May is Masturbation Month - of course!
And, now you're in the know too.
(unless you already knew...which would beg the question, what were you doing that was so important, that you couldn't tell us?)
What? You ask.
Why, May is Masturbation Month - of course!
And, now you're in the know too.
(unless you already knew...which would beg the question, what were you doing that was so important, that you couldn't tell us?)
Sunday, May 14, 2006
I want to stay out
But I can't. This one's too big. I'm broke until Monday, but then, I'm cutting a check to the EFF. It seems they're the only folks who are actually ON THIS STUFF.
Friday, May 12, 2006
Catastrophic Packaging Failure
Mr. Frog sat on his haunches on the bar table - where numerous drinks had spilled and left large ring-spots of moisture. He looked up at Wednesday, who glowered down at him. Actually, thought Mr. Frog, it might just seem like Wednesday was glowering at him, since he was absorbing liquor through his skin, he might be a little tipsy.
"So I realized," He croaked out more of his narrative, (I've edited out the beginning 'cause it's boooooring) "That it was horribly sad, that the most important and ambitious plan I had ever acted out in real life, was a miserable failure. In fact, it took me most of four years to even begin to pick up the pieces." He looked pathetic, after finishing his tale of woe, he lapped up a tongue-full of spilled Tanqueray and tonic.
The Fall played in the back on a jukebox. They were mixed in with a soft burble of conversation and the clinking of glasses the bartender was washing, to fill in the silence.
"Ahh, that's not so bad." Said Wednesday, wishing someone else was around he could talk to besides this drunk, sulking frog.
"So how'd you get the hump?" Mr. Frog asked, clearly the liquor had taken away all inhibitions, like common courtesy. "Were you born with it?"
Wednesday had a split second thought of his fist, moving like a swift hammer, smashing the frog, but it quickly passed. Wednesday would unleash his wrath on many creatures, but making a pile of goo out of a drunk frog would be more trouble than it was worth. The waitress would have to wipe the table, he'd have to get up and wash his hands.
"A catastrophic packaging failure." He said with a straight face, as if that would explain everything, and as far as he was concerned, it did. At that moment, the door to the dive swung open blinding everyone with the light from outside. Friday and his entourage of Weekdays walked in like...well, like a King and his entourage. Friday spied Wednesday holding down a booth, and shouted over the Fall.
"Two pitchers!" And pointed his index finger in a roundhouse point that stopped at Wednesday's table. Then they rolled over to the booth and flopped in.
"Hey Wed! Thanks for holding down the booth!" Said Friday happily.
"No problem." Wednesday replied back - faking it.
"So what are we going to do tonight Friday?" Asked Tuesday.
"This again..." Friday sighed. "Why is it...hey BEER!"
The waitress appeared holding two pitchers in her right hand, five glasses held in a pinch in her left, and set the pitchers down squarely on Mr. Frog, who was too drunk to even squeak a death cry. Wednesday smiled, and poured a glass.
"I got something." He said.
"What?!?" The others asked incredulously. Wednesday with an idea - when was the last time that happened?
"something I saw on the internets a couple of days ago." Wednesday said.
"What?" Asked Thursday, "Robots!?"
"Video Boobs!?" Shouted Monday.
A guy in the next booth leaned over, put his arm up on the edge and said,
"World of Warcraft?!"
"Nothing like that." Wednesday said, as he watched Thursday pick up a pitcher, and while he filled a glass, frog guts leaked off the bottom. "Tonight, let's live out of our imagination...not our history."
"That," said Friday, "sounds like exactly the plan we need."
Happy Friday
"So I realized," He croaked out more of his narrative, (I've edited out the beginning 'cause it's boooooring) "That it was horribly sad, that the most important and ambitious plan I had ever acted out in real life, was a miserable failure. In fact, it took me most of four years to even begin to pick up the pieces." He looked pathetic, after finishing his tale of woe, he lapped up a tongue-full of spilled Tanqueray and tonic.
The Fall played in the back on a jukebox. They were mixed in with a soft burble of conversation and the clinking of glasses the bartender was washing, to fill in the silence.
"Ahh, that's not so bad." Said Wednesday, wishing someone else was around he could talk to besides this drunk, sulking frog.
"So how'd you get the hump?" Mr. Frog asked, clearly the liquor had taken away all inhibitions, like common courtesy. "Were you born with it?"
Wednesday had a split second thought of his fist, moving like a swift hammer, smashing the frog, but it quickly passed. Wednesday would unleash his wrath on many creatures, but making a pile of goo out of a drunk frog would be more trouble than it was worth. The waitress would have to wipe the table, he'd have to get up and wash his hands.
"A catastrophic packaging failure." He said with a straight face, as if that would explain everything, and as far as he was concerned, it did. At that moment, the door to the dive swung open blinding everyone with the light from outside. Friday and his entourage of Weekdays walked in like...well, like a King and his entourage. Friday spied Wednesday holding down a booth, and shouted over the Fall.
"Two pitchers!" And pointed his index finger in a roundhouse point that stopped at Wednesday's table. Then they rolled over to the booth and flopped in.
"Hey Wed! Thanks for holding down the booth!" Said Friday happily.
"No problem." Wednesday replied back - faking it.
"So what are we going to do tonight Friday?" Asked Tuesday.
"This again..." Friday sighed. "Why is it...hey BEER!"
The waitress appeared holding two pitchers in her right hand, five glasses held in a pinch in her left, and set the pitchers down squarely on Mr. Frog, who was too drunk to even squeak a death cry. Wednesday smiled, and poured a glass.
"I got something." He said.
"What?!?" The others asked incredulously. Wednesday with an idea - when was the last time that happened?
"something I saw on the internets a couple of days ago." Wednesday said.
"What?" Asked Thursday, "Robots!?"
"Video Boobs!?" Shouted Monday.
A guy in the next booth leaned over, put his arm up on the edge and said,
"World of Warcraft?!"
"Nothing like that." Wednesday said, as he watched Thursday pick up a pitcher, and while he filled a glass, frog guts leaked off the bottom. "Tonight, let's live out of our imagination...not our history."
"That," said Friday, "sounds like exactly the plan we need."
Happy Friday
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
