So it's like that, huh?

"I'm sorry it's come to this..." the voice rasps, laden with danger.

The voice came from a handsome mouth, attached to a likewise handsome face, at least it would be if it's upper parts were not hidden behind a black mask. There were dangerously handsome eyes behind the mask, and they were dangerous because even with their handsomeness, they were pissed. The mask was made of a long piece of silk that matched the rest of the speaker's black clothing, including his black sombrero. In fact, the only thing that didn't match the ensemble, was the gleaming silver rapier blade, held in the right black-gloved hand. (author's aside - altho it didn't match it was a purrr-fect accessory) If one were passing by and happened to looked over, one might be inclined to say, "Hey! It's Zorro!"

The attire and threatening blade may have added to the danger-ladenness of the voice which spoke the words, but more than likely it was the tone (which would conservatively be called "icy") was enough to convey the fact that there was something very seriously wrong here. The other matter that might convey this, is where (or more appropriately, to whom) the words were directed. They were, in fact, directed towards a man in a fine, yet rumpled suit. The suit was rumpled, since the man himself (perspiring, and with a wilting moustache) was tied sitting down, to the trunk of a large Oak tree.

Perhaps the reason for the man's perspiration and wilting moustache was due to the icy tone of the words. Or perhaps they were caused by the gleaming rapier blade held by the Zorro-clad individual, which was making small circles about his nose. Maybe it was because behind the Zorro-clad man, stood four men attired in the fashion of desperadoes.

[Desperado - being defined at this moment - meaning only the worst possible meaning of the word. Broken and deformed noses, broken and missing teeth, bad breath, killer's eyes, bandoleers of ammo, filthy from travels, pistols, sweatstained sombreros...by their looks, not a-one of them hadn't raped a daughter in front of her hapless father, and not a-one hadn't knifed a mother in front of her helpless son.]

Or maybe it was because behind the tied-up man in the suit, was a saddled Bay horse running off towards the nearest mesa. It passed the corpse of a man in a uniform which from here might be described as reminiscent of the Mexican Army. Altho, to be honest, it could have been a uniform of any soldier in the 1800's, Mexican, Spanish, French, English, American - hell, who can really keep all those guys' uniforms straight? Well, irregardless, the Bay galloped past that corpse, and past another, and another, and then past a fine carriage, horses foaming with sweat and catching their breath thru flaring nostrils, still attached to the conveyance.

Behind that and scattered towards the horizon, a multitude of soldiers lay unmoving, each with hundreds of yards separating their final resting spots from their comrades. Between them, or even munching contentedly on the grasses next to them, were horses, riderless and masterless, wondering what to do. Two picked their heads up, and galloped hard to catch the Bay that seemed to have a good idea.

Yes, there had been a fight. A battle had raged across the plains, for hours at full gallop. If one had seen the opposing forces at the beginning, one would wonder why the uniformed force would not just turn and fight. If one would wonder that, one was clearly not aware of the force that the four men behind the Zorro-clad man could unleash. But I digress from my narrative - so let me start from the beginning.

Friday stood brandishing his rapier in small circles about the man's face. The face was attached to a body tied to a large Oak tree, with his legs stuck out onto the grassland. The voice rasps, laden with danger...

"I'm sorry it's come to this..."

The blade whistles down and up in a "U" shape, slicing off both sides of the wilting moustache. The man flinches back in horror, only to strike his head upon the rock hard trunk of the oak.

"I believe..." Friday continues in his Zorro garb, "That we entrusted you with the power of GOVERNMENT!"

He stands back for a moment, looking at his extremely dangerous Desperadoes. Thursday (flattened nose, eyepatch, and chipped tooth) hands him a hammered flask. Friday tips his head back, and has a long pull. In a flash, he spins, rapier slashing at the man tied to the tree -splitting open the crotch of his pants. A tiny trickle of blood spills from the cut. The man whimpers.

Friday pours the rest of the flask over the man, and sheathes his sword.

"C'mon, let's go." He says, and walks off. The others looking murder at the man, force themselves to turn and follow in Friday's wake.
"Hey Friday," Tuesday says, as they approach their gathered steeds, "After all that, why didja' let him off easy?"

Friday grabs the silver saddle-horn of his black stallion, and pulls himself astride the beast. He peers down on the gathered weekdays waiting for an answer to the question all of them were wondering.

"Off easy?" He smiles behind the mask. "Didn't you notice at the base of that Oak tree, was an anthill?"

Happy Friday.




There's venom in this one, and here's why. This was before our Great People's Congress this week.

1.) Habeas Restoration
2.) The Webb Amendment
3.) Cornyn's MoveOn Bill
4.) Feingold-Reid

Guess which one passed! Yeah, #3, "the Senate hates MoveOn.Org, I'm not even going to link to it, since it's right there. If you're in the government and reading this, you're tied to a tree under an anthill, and the ants are going to rise up and get their piece of flesh. So says Friday, me, and history will say that too. Until then, I bid those of you intrusted with the stewardship of my fine nation a heartfelt
"Fuck you, Dinks!"

-Tsunami-

Shoulda' Known...shoulda' known...

There are SALT MUMMIES!

HOLY CRAP! 803!!?!

Yea dear Fjordlings, we've reached another amazing milestone here at the WCB of Fjord, posting (as of this post) 803 little chunks of text. This has been an effort with a number of ups and downs, or ins and outs, side to sides...heck, it's just like this video! Watch, enjoy, and perhaps contemplate all the amazing things you did, while I was doing this.

Can't remember if I posted this

Back in the day. But even if I did, it's worth another gander. I mean with a sub-headline like this
"A Belgian man has been arrested after a dinner guest helping to clear up after the meal opened a freezer and found the bodies of the host's wife and stepson."

How can you resist? I couldn't.

Cleaning out the "inbox"

Summore stuff that appeared there...

'Battle dancing' kills Connecticut man
Associated Press
Last update: May 09, 2007 – 7:45 AM
NEW BRITAIN, Conn. — It's called "battle dancing'' and it's killed a man in Connecticut.
Police in New Britain say they were told Robert Stitt said he wanted to outdo a dance move another man had done by flipping in the air. The two were in a parking lot with a James Brown tune playing on the radio.

Stitt's friend says the 48-year-old man tried to do a forward flip, and landed on his head. According to police, Stitt went into cardiac arrest and was pronounced dead at a hospital.

Police say there were several people in the parking lot, drinking and playing the game in which people try to one-up each other with dance moves.

© 2007 Star Tribune. All rights reserved.

I'll say it again, sometimes the Universe conspires to please me.

I didn't miss this

I was just too lazy to do anything at the time.

Remember When You Though You Were Underpaid?

Yeah...you were.

Sadly this data is from TWO YEARS AGO! I'm sure using conservative estimates you're still getting the shaft. And Kenneth Lay still sleeps smugly in his grave. Wonder why that is...

Have we told you lately how much we love

Tintin? I guess we should have. Oh, and the answer is...a whole lot.

I dunno if I posted this before...

but it's for us pigmentally challenged.

The Snoop Dog translator.

And it's supa' fun.

Just a little global warming perspective

Lookie heeeere. A satellite photo of the amount of arctic ice, with a 28 year gap. 'Course global warming is a total myth...wait, what was that about those bears?

[eidtor's note] Why exactly, is this story under the "opinion" section? Here's the munny quote,
"All of Alaska’s bears would die out under this scenario – which is based on conservative climate assumptions."

By all means let's go with the conservative assumptions, since they've been totally spot on with all their other assumptions.

They say "history is written by the winners"

To that, I'd say

Meng, tonite I do not wanna do this...

And yet, I figger if I don't you're gonna be stuck with that last heavy post that I just can't, in good conscience leave up for a full day. So instead, I'll treat you to some mummy news I've been sitting of for a moment like this!

A mummy of an Inca girl, described as "perfect" by the archaeologists who found her in 1999, has gone on display for the first time in Argentina

discovered at a height of 6,700m (22,000ft) on Mount Llullaillaco, a volcano in north-west Argentina on the border with Chile. The mummy of la Doncella is on display in a chamber that is filled with cold air that recreates the sub-freezing conditions in which she was found.
Visitors told Argentine media they were impressed at the mummy's state of conservation.
"I'm amazed," one woman said. "You just expect her at any moment to get up and start talking."
Miguel Suarez from the Calchaquies valley tribes in and around Salta told the Associated Press news agency that the exhibit was "a great mistake"

"You'd just expect her at any moment to get up and start talking" !!??!!?? How about, at any moment to get up and start devouring SOULS!! These moronic people probably don't even have a flame thrower handy.

For Gjod's sake wake up to the fact that mummies are not scientific curiosities but the undead who are by nature, ready to feast on the humanid essence in order to empower their already powerful undead selves.

So, yeah, I'd like to second Miguel Suarez's comments and further ask, What The Fuck Are You Doing With A Perfectly Preserved Mummy!!??! Destroy the motherfuckin' thing before it destroys you and all of humanity! Gjoddang, how stupid are you dinks!???

So yeah, it's that day again.

Lemme' tells ya a little something, I read a lot of info-mation on the internets, and a lot of it happens to be news from around the world, and bloggy-deconstructions of actions from the U.S. National (and to a lesser extent State) governments. This is a place that I keep nearly all of that stuff out of, not because I don't understand it, (I gots me a Political Science degree from the University of Minnesota - don't ya know) and not because I think you wouldn't understand it. (cause I know yer as smart as you are attractive) I just figger there's a place for it, and it ain't here.

But I will say this today, of all days, you can't know what it means unless yer a New Yorker, or were one (or were in the Big Apple) when 9-11-2001 happened, you just can't know. No matter what you felt, through what you saw, or heard, or had to deal with that day, you just can't know.

My small powers of perception have allowed me to make this statement because whenever this subject comes up around a New Yorker, the conversation moves from a simple "what I saw made me feel ____" to suddenly dominated by the NYC's "You don't know shit because _____ is what I LIVED THRU!" And after you see the transformation that ripples through a person, you realize that the news and video and what-the-fuck-ever information you got from that situation has nothing to do with what someone who was there felt, watching innumerable masses of dust-stained workers from Manhattan trudge past their apartment windows. Watching the biggest landmark in their city disappear under a gargantuan cloud of smoke. Seeing posters of missing people go up in uncountable numbers all around them. Once you see this, you'll notice it wasn't so much the United States of America that was attacked, as New York, since, that's where it happened. (yeah, allright, there was also that Pentagon and P.A., thing - but pale sideshows to the main event.)

I'd be happy to tell you the most remarkable things about people coming together in L.A., - total strangers bonded by only by their ability to see their fellow American. Of strangely magical conversations I had with random people on the street that gave me faith in the goodness of my fellow Humanids. Of the odd proud feeling I got as a L.A.F.D. truck rolled down the street with a huge U.S. flag streaming behind. And of the stories I heard from nearly every one of my friends expressing the same things.

But out of all that, I at least now know this. No matter how they broadcast it to an audience, no matter what the politicians say, no matter how it was used to justify the gut-wrenchingly horrible response from the people who ran (and still run) U.S.of A., and no matter how they want to "honor" this day, of all days, they don't know.

They don't know because they weren't there. And until you sit down and talk to a few people who were, please, don't even try.

Hi Everybloody!

So lemme start off this post by sayin', I once watched a rugby game on the clable teleevision, and thought, "Holy craps this is cool." Then I asked a few people what the fjuck was goin' on here, and got a few answers, and then I thought, I'll just catch a few games and find out myself. Of course, a large number of months later, and I haven't seen anything. Until I find out thru the Beeb there's a World Cup of Rugby goin' on in Paris!

Sooo anyhoo, I gots me a temp-worker in the Casa Aloha H.Q. who's been a strange character to say the least, and today we gets to talking about sports, and after I mention there's a world cup of rugby goin' on he asks, "Have you ever seen the New Zealand team do their war dance?" And I'm all, "No, but I bet I could find it on youtube."

Anyways, I did. It's called the "haka" and it looks something like this.



So anyhoo, I gets to looking at the wide variety of youtube versions of their pre-game ritual, (and some are better than others, this seemed to capture the whole thing pretty well for folks just dialing in to Channel Fjord who, like me, know shit about rugby. But after watching more than a few, I kept on wondering, what kept the opposing squad from doing anything but standing there like rubes with your arms linked around your teammates' shoulders in some sort of pathetic solidarity, and just taking this kind of psychout shit!?

Then, after a few (or a lot, it's kinda all blended together) more looks I found New Zealand Vs the Tongans, which you should really see.



Anywise, happy gjoddamn and merry fuckin. It's Friday and it's finally cooled down in Los Angeleeze, and that's a lot to be happy about.

OH HOLY GJOD! I may have just stumbled on

One of the greatest things in the internets.

A catalog of Warner Brothers ACME products!

You should probably just go now.

More Linkey!

Interesting facts from history, over here.

Here's something for all you beautiful people

"If all else fails, immortality can always be assured by spectacular error."

- John Kenneth Galbraith

Run Amok Vs. Going Berserk

A great breakdown of crazy can be read over here.

It's tjrue Channel Fjord's now done two posts in a row

of things found at neatorama. But this is really cool. It's got salt, and sound, and some sciency things that I'll never want or try and understand. But what the hell, it's awesome. BTW there's some funky sounds that'll annoy your neighbors, so maybe turn it down a tad.


Salt Sound Waves - Watch today’s top amazing videos here

Not to alarm you or anything

But think of all the mummies that might be hiding in this photo.

Please click to embiggify.

Found at Neatorama, of course.

Those of you who know me

(and judging from the readership as of late, I imagine you all do) know I'm not that much into baseball. But this is totally worth reading.

Stupid Stupid Viewer, Don't You Know...???

That you arrive here wanting nothing, and expecting everything?? I can't, for the life of me, give you what you want. As much as I do (want to give you everything you want)...I can't. I totally can't. But I will give you this.



Then perhaps you'd enjoy this...

Wow, Did Friday Actually Knock Me Into Tuesday?

Short answer: Yes.

Long Answer: I can't get into it right now, but DANG! He threw me a curveball at such astounding velocity it would make Dan Quisenberry jelous. (and it would)

Now, with that out off the way, I'm about to go deal with the Alcohol Control Board regarding a horrific injustice inflicted on Fjord Borg sometime in 2005, and then skootch up to the Great Northwest for a brief Labor Day break in labors.

So in some sort of Pavlovian reward I've got Chris Titus doing a little standup that'll be worth hearing.


Video is 7:27 long

Meanwhile, I found this at Thinkorthwim, of which I read three posts, and added to my favorites, then proceeded to read 22 pages in a row. Good stuffs over there. If I'm not back before the next post, have a great Holiday, and I'll see ya on the other side.

I wonder what Friday's doing tonite...

Maybe he's left for greener pastures. Maybe he's got some hot party info that will blow yer mind from all the residue that this week left stuck all over the insides of yer head like resin. Maybe he's on a intergalactic cruise that'll have cyber-ninja's, four-breasted alien broads, and rug devouring space-hamsters. Maybe he's decided to take up a nice villa in the South of France - yaknow, something with a waterwheel and an old crotchety guy who knows his grapes, and his vines. Maybe he's just kickin' back with a couple of tall cold ones, and figgers the world might be able to do without his particular brand of fun for tonite. Maybe he's dealing with Leprechauns and trying to get them to help the sitch-ee-ation in Iraq.

Maybee he's hangin' at your local tavern wonderin' where you're at. Maybe he's about to catch some mass-transportation and turn the gjoddang vehicle into a party-bus. Maybe he's milking goats, and trying to make cheese. Maybe he's got some plans for the upper levels of the talles building in the world. Maybe there's a race somewhere with high stakes on the line. Maybe he's in a duel to the death with some stupid fuck who doesn't know what's wjhat.

Maybe it's the kind of question a person shouldn't ask themselves. Maybe it's the kind of question that will never be answered correctly until you go out and try and find that most noble of all weekdays, and ask him yourself.

Sometimes the world does conspire to please

sometimes. Here are two tales about animals I know you're gonna love. One's about a camel. The other's about monkeys. I suspect that there might be something in my love of actual news that comes from the simple idea that, "no, you can't make this shit up."

Maybe it'd be 'cause you'd read this in fiction and think, no way.

Nothing? Nada? Really?

Well, that's okay, since I have more mummy news for yas. And speaking of, before I get to the good stuffs, I really would have thought in this day and age, that an image search for "Mumra fights Thundercats" would have come up with more than this.

So, I'll have to go back to more classic Fjord mummy artwork.

Because I missed this back in the day, but it has severe repercussions, along the lines of man's best friend being turned into a mummy and used against us. In fact there's a more serious problem we're facing. Mummy Lions!

After allz this time dealing with the most nefarious of all the undeads, (and by now I'm sure you'll agree I have some unique knowledge of these bastards) I sure as shit don't wanna have to fight against mummy lions.

The King of the Swamp People has not forgotten

Nope, no he hasn't.

O.K., so the Rugsian Press, I mean, the D.T. Press, I mean FJORD appears (and I really mean "appears") to be back in action

And there's nothing I can think of to make Monday roll than these guys.



Oh, hells ya mang, hells ya!

Now, the other thing that mesmerized me on the toobz

Holy Crap! Dr. McNinja is awesome.

I'm gonna say this just once...if this is not what the global interebweb-net-database was made for, all civilization has meant nothing. Nothing I tells ya! Nothing!

Ahhhh Crap crap crap crap crap! Crap!

No, this is not crap! But it's totally NSFW, unless you work by yourself and nobody monitors your internets content. But if you do, then go POST-HASTE! And if not, write yourself a note to go there when you get home! And then when you get home, don't just throw your note in a pile of junk you take out of your pockets or handbags on the coffee table, and throw it away when you're cleaning up trash that's piled up on your coffee table in three weeks. I'm saying check out this good shit!

Hey - did you do this!?!

Where I said to go over here, and look at this thing? Cause I just did again, and dang, I was right. Fuckin' incredible.

I hope to hell that this is as good as it looks.

Because, dang...

There was something about this

I thought was kinda cool.

MJ: You have your own publishing company, and you've put out other works from people like Nick Cave, but also a lot of your own stuff. Why did you get into writing, and what do you think your strongest skills are as a writer?

HR: I'm not a very good writer. I'm working at it. What I have is access. I go places. I can get in and out of places and come at it with my $3.50 an hour mindset. All my big heroes are literary, writers. I'd love to meet Jimmy Hendrix or John Coltrane, but I'd much rather meet Thomas Wolfe, or F. Scott Fitzgerald, or [Albert] Camus, or [Charles] Baudelaire, or what have you. Words and books have always meant a lot to me. That someone can take words and string them together to where they will move me is just a hell of a thing. It's amazing to me; more amazing to me than music or painting. It's always been the written word or the spoken word, like a great lecture or a great lyric, or a great poem. To me it's just amazing. And I always aspire toward capturing that, or my version of it.

Funny, I always thought the opposite...that the written word does not have the impact of music or video or mooovies. I'm happily entertaining the idea that I'm wrong on that. At least for the next two and a half minutes until I find something on yooootube.

Oh. here's something.

Whachoo lookin at?

Better yet, whatcha' drinkin?

Finally, some gjoddang mummy news!

I've been waiting!

This street art is probably going to fuck the hell out of blogger

But it's worth a shot.

Ahh, crap, it did.

So go over here, and look at this masterpiece. Make sure to blow it up! Kay?!?

Oh yeah...I wanted to throw this your way

If you might be fashionable inclined, which I think you are. Actually, I'm not sure if you are. Quite a while ago we put the interwebs on notice of how readers of Fjord were the most attractive of all blog readers, but it's been some time since then, and I, like you, are well aware that how hot you are has no relation to how great you dress. However, Shoutfit appears to be a networking site where you can show off your style. I haven't really explored it in depth, but it's worth a look. Lemme know what you think, kay?

Well, maybe a little tittilation wouldn't be a bad thing

So you might just click over here.

Well, this has been a weird week, no?

"So how long is it before it's too long without..." Tuesday's baritone began, but was interrupted by Wednesday, who said,
"What?"
"Without a change?" Tuesday finished, and reached forward to ash a chunk off his cigarette into a black plastic ashtray that sat on a large round table, surrounded by a red leather booth that held the assorted weekdays in a very dark bar.
"What kind of change?" Asked Monday, while Thursday and Friday worked to finish their coctails quickly enough to order before happy-hour was up.

"Like everything you've been in a rut over...I mean, how many times do you tell yourself you've got to change, before it's the time you actually do anything about it?"
"Seventeen!" Wednesday said.
"Thirty-Seven!" Monday chipped in.
"At least a hundred." Thursday spoke with a rasp from downing a lowball of scotch.

Friday leaned back and waved to the waitress who was obviously lurking in the background waiting for the move - the tavern they had chosen was dead except for two drunks leaning heavily on the bar about fifteen feet away. She walked up attired to get the maximum tip value from her 24 year-old body.
"It's not too late for another round before happy-hour ends?" Friday asked.
"Not for another 12 minutes." She said saucily.
"Then another round for us blokes." He said whirling his finger around in a circle. She moved off and Friday gave a gander at his assorted minions.

"A man can take what he's got to take...until he can't take it anymore." Friday spoke the words but began moving his head until he was speaking at a television mounted in the corner of the place, watching highlights of best sports plays of the day. "Then, when it's too much, he makes a change. I'd imagine it's the same for womenfolk, but I can't speak from experience on the last bit." He moved his thumb up to his mouth to bite at it's nail.

"So..." Wednesday began uncomfjortably, "how long is that, exactly?"
Friday watched a magnificent goal by the Panamanian National team with a crossing pass from the right wing, to a midfielder near the edge of the box, who made a tiny touch pass behind him to a midfielder, who lobbed a ball up for the forward who nailed a header back to the original passer who shot the ball well past the befuddled keeper, then turned back to the booth.

"Days, weeks, months, years...who the hell can say! The fates? Maybe it's not even up to them. One day you just wake up and decide enough's enough. People quit their jobs, they quit their relationships, they quit their dreams. Why? They just do. Nobody knows, except the person who's doing it. Why the hell are we talking about this?"

"I was just trying to make conversation." Tuesday said after a long pause. "Not trying to be confrontational. Jeesh." The body language of the gathered weekdays seemed to be in agreement with Tuesday's point rather than Friday's.

The waitress returned with a welcome distraction, setting down drinks leaning more than she should, her tank-top shirt hanging a tad loosely around her bust. She sauntered off well aware that her performance would gather at least a few looks at her other attractive assets, which it did.

"Sorry fellas," Friday said as he rolled a misty glass between his hands, "I've got a lot on my mind, and I'm afraid that question hits a little too close to home. Let's just enjoy this low-cost beverage, and prepare for a few more, at slightly exaggerated prices, and have a fucking nice night."

"Hear, hear!" Wednesday nearly shouted...and unlike most times when Wednesday does something like that, the other's raised their glasses and shook the bar with a resounding "HEAR HEAR!" The drunks at the bar even turned their heads to see what the commotion was.

Happy Friday!

This came up in conversation the other day.

And words do not do it justice.

First up...this

it's just too damn goofy. A little slow at first, but be patient, and have sound.

More Art History!

Part 2 of the Laska Movement!

Unbenumingly - the revolutionary piece by Fransis Laska was, as mentioned previously, was nearly unframable, and totally un-hangable, however, it did lead to the innovations in art that people rarely see. Taking headlines from sensational broadsheets from Paris, Laska combined stories as diverse as the Spanish American War, the recent patent of the rubber heeled shoe, and the exploits of Mademoiselle Bridgett Margot, who performed on Paris stages, and literally made news that would make Lohan and Paris jelous. (In fairness to Mademoiselle Margot, the broadsheets did use hype to sell their product, but taken in context, the story of her, the Duke of Burgundy, the Courtesan Chantell de Morazon, his Valet, and two goats, was a sensation that didn't subside until the collapse of the Rolando building which housed a department store, killing 35.)

Nevertheless, the piece combined words and printed images nearly in the mode of "sampling" in music, and created the line of text which read "Mademoiselle Bridget Margot takes the advances of all the Philippines and two goats in her mouth, while wearing rubber soled shoes which will provide traction in all kinds of weather." If this wasn't enough, the fresco which was applied in the upper right quadrant to the lower center, was a reproduction of a fresco found in a Pompeii whorehouse which depicted a woman orally pleasing a Satyar. Laska then used egg tempura over the fresco to place all weather shoes on the nymph, and added masked goats tied by a leash to her wrist. All in all a titillating and erotic picture.

Unfortunately, the temper of Fransis Laska had by the time it was displayed in three galleries, had driven the salons of Paris to discard Laska as a raving madman. Which, undoubtedly he was. Whatever the public reaction to his works, he didn't seem to mind. In fact, it appears he relished the idea of being an outsider and began staging reenactments of his piece with poor and too-long out of work actors and actresses, where he apparently, in spoken word form, added more outlandish strings of text. This became a huge sensation in the poorer areas of Paris, where heroin use was on the rise. While he never made the kind of money he had hoped for, Laska developed a following of the most undesirable kind. Yet, it appeared that being a king of the underclasses for Laska, was still a form of honor, and he began indulging further into the stranger tastes of drug use, which seemed to inspire a number of his circle, to begin the descent with him.

His seminal performance seems to be when he took his goat/satyar theme, and arranged a strap-on dildo to be fitted upon a goat, which was made to mount a man dressed in horns and the garb of a Satyar. Whereupon, in front of an audience of some 400 interested spectators, Laska proceeded to paint the scene, occasionally directing the Satyar, and the goat handler in more unique poses, ending with the Satyar sucking the goat's oversized and prosthetic fallus. Since Laska was also aware of newer forms of artistic medium, this was also captured on a large camera, and is the first known pornographic photo of bestiality.

This performance made Laska an untouchable in the respectable Parisian art world, but made him a cult hero in the circles that never claimed to have taste. He took this status, and while destroying his life, created works which would influence the next 100 years.

Next up...How Fransis Laska developed his movement, simply with three astounding pieces!

And now, some art history.

Part 1: The Laska Movement!

The Laska Movement was a subset of the impressionists, and never reached real prominence as they were frowned upon by the salons, and galleries, mostly through their own decadence, which led to small groups of Laska adherents trashing works of other notable artists. In fact the most notable occurrence was at an unveiling of a Monet, where a piece called "the whipperwill" which was reputed to be (through only eye-witnesses from the gallery unveiling) the finest work in his brief "burgundy period" which lasted April-October of 1892. About fifteen followers behind the noted Laska painter Brillheim Corveir, entered amongst the elite of the art world, and under the influence of some drug (the Laskas were known heroin users) proceeded to not only destroy The Whipperwill, but also a Cezanne, and unable to smash a sculpture by the famed Italian artisan Mirivar Alonzo, carried it off, and threw it in the Seine.

Fransis Laska was born in 1870 to wealthy vintners, and was sent to the Chateau de Vorn, nestled in the forests of Verdun, to study the fine arts. All indications were that Laska was a top notch talent, and by the time he left in 1886, he was already commanding thousands of Francs for his depictions of rustic settings, urban life, and violent seas. In fact in the cabin of Edward John Smith, the captain of the Titanic, the only hanging piece of art was the Laska oil called "Homeward" which dramatically captured the power of the seas, smashing upon an outcropping of rock, where a lighthouse stoically resisted. Nevertheless, once Laska gravitated to Paris, and while there was a buzz about this new talent which had arrived from the provinces, he quickly slipped from the polite society, and began experimenting with forms which never again caught the public eye. However, there were creations of note.

Laska's piece "Unbenumingly" was a revolutionary mixed medium piece which combined egg-tempura, fresco, and the first noted use of the sensational newsheets of Paris in collage form, which was remarkable for the juxtaposition of heavy and light materials, but was formed compositionally on a framed canvass, where the plaster of the fresco made the piece nearly impossible to frame (an unthinkable thing at the time) and no matter what steps were taken, seem to be totally impossible to hang in a level square. The few curators who would display the piece finally fixed the problem by setting it in an easel, but this infuriated Laska who took it as a slight by the displays - as if the piece was still in progress. Whether this was the case or not, it was the last time his work publicly would have any exposure.

Publicly - but wait till you hear about what this guy was doing! Stay tuned for part 2.

Hi Guys!

Well, I just got back from somewhere, and I'd like to say, fuck that last post! You should have been left with something astronomical like hovershoes, or lasers, or girls who are tied up and helpless (or for you fairer of the Fjordian sex, boys - hey we all know what we want, don't we?)

Anyways, hope the Universe is about to treat you real nice, and if it's not, you're about to blow the motherfucker up, since that's the last thing we - or it, would see coming.

I sniped the pic off'n Tbogg who's been on my interweb favorites for as long as I can remember.

Tuesday Happy

Don't often comment on sports over at the fjord but...

Dang! If anyone's ever took some time following basketball, it's pretty obvious Kevin Garnett is one of the best players in the league. I'd been rooting for him ever since he walked onto the court in a timgberwolves jersey when he was, shit I dunno, 18, and totally blew away expectations by actually living up to the hype. The Wolves made a great run with Spreewell and Cassell a few years back, and it killed me to see that team fall apart, since they were so damn close.

Still, when the talk was about trading him, it wasn't my old hometown squad I was thinking about, it was "The Kid." He'd put in so many man-hours to make the Wolves a team you ignored at your peril, and never once said anything in public that implied he was unhappy. That kind of devotion is so refreshing to see in pro-ball of any kind, that all I want for him is to get a gjoddang ring. With his trade to the Celtics, it seems as if they have a pretty good chance. And I'll still be rootin'. Good luck K.G!

A Post B-day Random Write-A-Thing

So yeah, I was working on this before my b-day, but now it's...well, it's this.

Young Hollywood gone bad, old Hollywood was already bad, I live in Hollywood, and I don't know which side I should be on. That's not the real question. (or maybe I'm ignoring it because I'm in the middle) The real question is...IS going bad - or being bad going to help my creativity? I hope so because I'm drunk - on crack, oxycotten, and these tiny blue pills I found on the street, and I thought taking this drive on the PCH would give me some inspiration to think up something really creative. Hey, a penny!

Maybe it's overstimulation from too much information - since you can ask anyone I know that I consume information like food.
Cut to:
A Guy: Food?
A Dude: Not that I heard.
A Lady: I think he consumes, but I can't be sure.
A Tramp: Definitely. What was the question?
A Soldier: Wasn't he that sex freak guy?
A Postman: I don't like dogs.

But something tells me if I don't start specializing in something soon, it'll be too late.

Cut to:
Me with a smaller me on my shoulder who says.
"It's going to be too late."

But those are the things I try and ignore because they're counter-productive. What's also counter-productive is giving away money, buying things you don't really need, voting and masturbation. Wait, scratch that last one, replace it with rockstars! Yeah, rockstars.

Cut to:
Rockstar: What? Don't we give you something to idolize?

Idolatry - wasn't that something the bible said to not do? Or carve, or put on youtube - because that might violate some sort of copyright? I don't know - what the fuck am I a lawyer? No, I'm not! I'm also not a meteorologist, or a spelunker, or a caveman, but enough about me, really, enough about me.

I'd like to apologize for the last seven words, I don't know why they were written. Instead, I'd like to amend them and say, Me! More about ME! I want everyone to know everything about ME ALL THE TIME!!! ME TEEVEE, and KMME RADIO and MEESO SOUP and ME MAGAZINE and let me tell you about what the hell I'm doing, so you'll have an update from five minutes ago about what I was doing. Why wouldn't anyone want to know?

As for what I got for my B-day...it's the best gift I've ever received.

Things I don't understand...but like

The worlds oldest fake body part. Of course, it's found in/on a mummy.

Here's the munny quote.

If true, the toe will predate the currently considered earliest practical prosthesis - a fake leg from 300BC. The Roman Capua Leg, made of bronze, was held at the Royal College of Surgeons in London but was destroyed by Luftwaffe bombs during the Second World War.

And in more futuristic kind of fucked-up-ness the munny quote is only this...

Nasa astronauts were cleared to fly while drunk at least twice, a panel set up by the US space agency has found.

Octopus? Is there anything they can't do?

Well, there's a lot of Beeb for yas, but hell, if the shoe fits...yeah? Since it's Sundaaaay, I'll give you the other little juicy tidbit that I'm totally loving.

Munny quote? Sure, why not.

Vick pleaded not guilty to federal dogfighting charges in Richmond, Virginia. In the indictment, he was accused of sponsoring a gruesome operation that often shot, hanged, drowned or electrocuted losing dogs.

Be still my tiny cold black heart, be still.

Finally, Something for the Space-Age-Jet-Set!

A truck mounted LASER BEAM!

The US Army is developing a truck-mounted laser weapon
to destroy rockets, artillery shells and mortars.
And melt your face.

Your Friendly Minor League Media Demon

Wonders the following:

Why are his floors not cleaned!
Why is his laundry undone!
Why no food is in his refrigerator!

He feels that if he were a larger and less friendly media demon, he
would not have these problems.

He is probably right.

So here is a nice compilation of things about underwear.

It's not good

And there's a lot of bad bad things. But it's updated a lot, and I've seen some really funny things at the sickapedia.

I already mentioned it's not good.

Monday has revealed

That the Sucker Gods have me by the balls.

Please be aware that the Sucker Gods are a crafty bunch, and might also have you by the (proverbial, or literal) balls yourself. By the way, I'm not against the Sucker Gods, when they're working for me, just when dealing with 'em, you often get the short end of the stick.

Is it hot?!?

Wherever you might be?

Yeah - two questions for yas. Can you handle it - not the heat, I mean questions? I figure you can, just because I believe in you. However, if you're stuck in the middle of a heatwave somewhere across the great expanse of the northern hemisphere (nice word there, no?) then here's a nice link to remind you that there are things that are just too hot.

Yeesh...

As cool as this is, it doesn't change the fact that I'm working.

Soooo...what are you doing to fight the terrorists?

Me? What? I...are you asking me what I'm doing to fight the terrorists? Well, I'm, err, keeping informed of current events, I'm becoming outraged watching a bunch of 6-year-olds try and deal with the world of global diplomacy, and I'm beginning to grow very tired of people COMMENTING ON IT.

Holy crap. Just humongous piles of holy blessed-by-Gjod-himself steaming mountains of oozing, volcanically exploding CEEEE-RAP!!!!!

Fucking do, or Fucking do not. "Commenting" and "talking" is "FUCKING DO NOT."

And yes, I am fully aware I am in the "FUCKING DO NOT" camp. I am however, also living in my own private fantasyland. It's extremely nice here.

So Anyways, I was thinking about Vancouver (bitchingly nice town) as a possible escape from my, err, country. Then I saw a thing about Mexico offering U.S. citizens full legal status (not sure if that one's legit atall but anyhoo) knowing that the U.S is in fact a nation fully integrated with both Canada and Mexico through NAFTA, why, shouldn't I be a citizen of North America? I imagine myself flying from the tip of the Baha (and one of my all time favorite names for a Sea - THE SEA OF CORTEZ) up to the incessant chilly rains that make the Northwest so Gjoddamn green. You'll notice I didn't have to even once stop in the U.S. So I suppose this is the new idea I'll be spouting for about three hours - Citizenry of North America. Of course, if this were to come to pass, someone somewhere would fuck it up. So again, being in the "Fucking do not" camp, I have come up with a brilliant idea, which would inevitably fail, and turn out horribly. In fact, by doing nothing, I have just saved everyone a whole lot of effort and misery. Yaay!

In other Fjord related news, there's this Viking Hoard. Oop, I meant THIS VIKING HOARD which was found by some idiots with a metal detector.

And Keeping up with the Sea Stallion, the replica Viking ship that was doing something, somewhere, far away, with people who have no jobs and maybe want to be Viking re-enactors had to get a tow across the North Sea. And that makes this particular fjordlover, very very sad. If I was the Captain of the Sea Stallion, I don't care what the cost, physical, financial, mental...I'd fucking make the crossing like a fjucking Viking would.

Of course we already mentioned I live in a fantasyland, and It's extremely nice here.

Reasons You Might Be Hiding

1) Giant Insects
2) Mummies
xxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxx
5) Insurgents
6) Sharks/Eels
7) Death Car
8) Pimp
9) Boss
10) Crazy Homless Guy

I really wanted to cut out #2 and #3, but then there only would have been eight reasons for hiding...ahh, what the hell.

TEETH!

BECAUSE ALL CAPS MAKE THINGS SEEM EXCITING!

However, this guy with a tooth stuck in his head is kinda good.

Elephants!

I suppose the real question is...

were they drunk?

Incase I don't make anything new this weekend

here's something to tide you over.

found at the evercool neatorama.

Fridays...Badgers...yaknow the usual...

I was busy just now reading over some older stuff I'd written somewhere else, and happily surprised. It's one thing to call yourself a writer (or worse, *said with sarcasm dripping off the tongue* a blogger) But hell, you are what you are, and you ain't what you ain't...I think someone said somewhere, sometime ago. Anyhoo, it's nice to sometimes be reminded you might be good at what you claim to do.

But...as I was scanning the internets for you, I came across this!
Ohmygodohmygodohmygod...!!!!!
Such brilliant news...and in so many ways. The first and foremost being the line

British forces have denied rumours that they released a plague of ferocious badgers into the Iraqi city of Basra.

Oh Gjod! Did that get my heart racing. Even having to deny that you released a plague of ferocious badgers anywhere is nearly one of the coolest things anyone could ever have to say. Of course this led to a whole bevy of badger related internettings, such as my primary concern, "is plague of ferocious badgers taken as a band name." Which fortunately was not (for my aspiring musician friends) or perhaps this little nicety with the headline...Farmers Admit to Gassing Badgers. I guess I can sort of understand why I might have missed this story in 05, but WOW!

And who can forget the loveable badger song that graced the internets in our early love affair of all that's stupid online? Literally, it seems that the badger is a comedy goldmine.

Well, I'd like very much to wrap this up by re-linking to a Friday post back in July 15th in '05, because, even tho it has nothing to do with badgers, this one's close to my heart.

Happy Friday

MMmmmmmnnnn...

This one's for if you like shoes.

I'm No Scientician

But is there anything Stem Cells can't do?

Hey Hatshepsut! Tsunami set me!

In the last post I was (mocking? advertising?) my skills as a dude who's got his "blogging chops" back so hardcore raging that after a couple of hours he's back in action...only, clearly I don't.

Since three posts down I linked to a story about Queen Hatshepsut...and well, I kinda slipped and didn't re-link myself. Anyhoo - seeing's as this is one less mummy we have to worry about, and an extremely powerful one at that, I'm happy as fuck to have her *ahem* under wraps. I haven't heard when we're gonna burn the bitch, but I say it's ASAP!

And if you're all feeling like this mummy crap is coming to a close, and you can continue about your normal life like there's no problem...just remember this:

Also not accounted for are the pharaohs Ay and Horemheb, who successively seized the throne after King Tut's death, and Ramses VII and Ramses VIII, obscure kings of the late New Kingdom. But perhaps the most sought-after missing mummy is that of Akhenaten, the pharaoh who turned Egypt upside down and introduced the nearest thing to monotheism Ancient Egypt ever knew, and his beautiful queen, Nefertiti, who is portrayed in a famous bust in Berlin.

There are six Uber-Powerful mummies out there that you wouldn't stand a chance against. There's also like 9000 mummies you've never heard of that still would love to eat your soul. Please be careful out there.

So while I was out looking for something clever

I stumbled upon this!

In the study, women spoke a daily average of 16,215 words during their waking hours, and men 15,669 words.

The researchers say this difference is not significant.

Lead researcher Matthias Mehl said: "What's a 500-word difference, compared to the 45,000-word difference between the most and the least talkative persons?"

Which led me back to THIS! Which, unfortunately, was a little harder for me to find than you suspected. But what gave me a start was that it was from 2005! Two Gjoddamn years ago! That's when I stumbled across this story, and now as a follow-up...just for you, my friendly Fjordlings...because yer pal Tsunami is...bad enough to remember a post two years ago, and remember it's relevant. Please, don't stop squalkin', 'cause I won't, until the mummy gets me. Sorry, I mean, The Mummies! I'm pretty sure no single mummy could take me without help, since I do have powerful defenses. Have you maintained or upgraded yours too?

I am Throwing Up Blood

And I like it. It might be the most creative thing I’ve done in 2007! The splatters of red on my off-white walls, and linoleum are really striking. And in fact, I’m pretty sure I’m going to take some photos, and get some frames, and make some pieces out of them. I guess after that it’s off to the art galleries. Someone somewhere will take them I’m sure.

Here's a fun one from a guy I like enough to read every day.


In other news…
The long (horribly long) drawn-out (horribly horribly drawn out) masterpiece of penmanship, (thanks laser printer!) mad typing skills, (thanks most useful of digits) creative process (drug and booze addled brains, ) and about 1600 hours of sittin’ on the arse holder I call a desk chair…I’m just about to release the top secret idea I’ve been working on for the last year - into the internets. Since hardly anyone swings by anymore, there’s really no danger in it escaping before its time, but I really can’t take that chance until I’ve covered myself in the legal shields I can, at this stage, afford! However, I’d say this is good news.

I found this great piece of video at the place where a couple of “Table of Malcontents” writers ended up ectoplasmosis
(it’s a great place already, go see their stuff) But this’ll knock your socks off.


http://view.break.com/323537 - Watch more free videos

Happy Friday