RRRRrrrrrrrrr!

Your friendly minor league media demon is in a nasty mood today.

I'm not sure why - seeings how I got paid, I didn't get rained on, and a Giant Squid was put on display. (be sure to check out the "related links" on the right side of the page - good stuff there)

Anyways...some things you can't work out in words, but you can work your exchange rate out in a currency calculator! And if you convert enough of your US Dollars, to the Ringgit (1 US Dollar = 3.71621 Malaysian Ringgit) you too could join the adventure searching for the Malaysian Bigfoot.

And if that doesn't pan out too well - you could always head south, and go hunting for the fearsome Australian Salt Water Crocodile. Just make sure it doesn't get a hold of your arm.



P.S.
Still feeling nasty. Best take this up with the neighbor's cat.

-Tsunami-

A couple of months ago

I wrote about weapons-grade whisky, thinking I was being, yaknow, imaginative. Of course, I was trumped again by reality.

Here's a nice little bit...
The US Secret Service admitted in 2003 that it had been monitoring the distillery because the difference between distilling a fine whisky and making chemical weapons was "just a small tweak"

That's beautiful.

The article also states that two spoonfuls might be enough to kill a man.*

*Fjuckin amateurs.

-Tsunami-

Yeah, it's me again

screwing around on the internet so you dont have to.

I've been wanting to direct you guys over to Banksy for a long long time. The guy's work is inspirational.

Friday awoke to the phone...

It was so early in the day, that it should have been called Thursday night. (In fact, at 01-10 am, nearly everyone who was awake at this time would have said, "Fuckin' great night man! Whatcha' doing for the rest of it?" Of course technicalities like this have a way of creeping up on you when you're responsible for a whole 24-hour weekday.)

He fjumbled his half-asleep arm from under the pillow he was sleeping on, and felt around for the phone.
"Yeah?" His voice was groggy, with none of it's usual zip.
"Are you happy?" A cold voice of a woman asked.
"Huh?" Said Friday, who clearly wasn't interested in taking a survey, and would really have to work when the sun cracked open the sky into morning.
There was a long silent pause,
"Do you feel guilty?" The voice asked again
"Whaaa? Look lady," Said Friday, "do everyone a favor, and find a better hobby." Then he hung up the phone, and fell quickly back asleep.

An hour and twenty minutes passed, and the phone rang again. Friday reacted as one reacts to a ringing phone from a deep sleep - he reached over and answered it.
"Yeah?" His voice was still groggy, with no hit of charm.
"Are you having a nightmare?" The cold impersonal woman's voice asked.
"Look woman, I have dreams you couldn't comprehend - so don't even bother."
There was another long silent pause.
"Like what?"
"I had just befriended a pack of hyenas, who worshiped a strange Idol, to which they brought severed human heads in sacrifice. They howled a tribute to their strange god, which took some time. Then, when they were done, their chief got up on his hind legs, and walked over to a Harley 3-wheeled motorbike...upon the back of the trike was a 32-gallon keg of Newcastle Brown Ale. Which he began pouring for his clan. I was just about to get mine, when you called and woke me up. This is the second time, so what the fuck do you want!?"
"Are you comfortable in your own skin?" The cold woman's voice asked.
Friday hung up, and again, fell into a deep sleep.

-I think we all know by now, that Friday isn't just a weekday - per se - he's an agent for something bigger. What kind of agent? Hard to know, Friday surrounds himself in a cloak of good-times, fun, excitement and pleasure. (all-in-all not a bad disguise for anyone, no matter what their intentions) What kind of being/organization is he an agent for? Also hard to say. But I know this, in order for the King of all Weekdays to take instructions from anyone or anything - it's got to be really big, really bad (or good, as the case may be) and not opposed to us humanids having a good time. Therefore, I at least assume its designs on our civilization are not set on our imminent destruction.

At 3:47 the phone rang again. The woman's voice was a touch less cold this call, when she asked her first question.
"Are you attractive?"
"Baby, fjuck."
After three phone interruptions of his sleep, by now - at least subconsciously Friday was ready for this. He was a little less groggy, and his voice had a little snap to it.
"How many men do you command?"
"I only command my army of Dragon Men."
"Dragon Men?"
"How many Dragon Men do you command!?" Friday shot back.
The cool woman's voice on the other end of the line did not reply. In fact, there was a small click, and he was put on hold. Music filtered through the line...it was "Girl From Ipanema."

Friday lay there for about ten seconds, listening to the lullaby, and started to hang up the phone.
"Wait!" A voice said from the speaker of the phone - which carried across the three feet from the handset to Friday's ear. For some reason, he obeyed, and brought the receiver back to his face.
"Yeah." He said.
The cold woman's voice asked, "Have you ever called the party line?"
"You stupid twit!" Friday spat out, "I'm King of all Weekdays, I AM THE PARTY! I'm ready to party anytime, any place, anywhere - ANY TIME!"

Friday paused for a second thinking about what he'd just said. And he realized he'd repeated himself - which made him a little mad, and a little ashamed at the fuckup. But it was only for a second. He covered it up by becoming more hostile.
"I'M READY TO PARTY RIGHT NOW - - - EVEN BY PHONE!"

"Good." The woman's voice said, "Very good."
"What, you ready to party now!?"

The woman laughed a little laugh on the other end of the line.
"Oh - no Friday, I've still got another 15 hours on my shift. I'm Miranda, calling in from control - just checking to see if, after all these millennia, you're doing all right."
"Huh? Oh, um, hi Miranda. How'd I do?"
"Prefect. Just ahh...hey Friday?"
"Yeah?"
"Keep up the good work."

The conversation ended there with a click from the other end of the line, and Friday lay in his bed with an empty phone stuck to his ear. He smiled, hung up the phone, and knew he'd have to get cracking in a couple of hours. At that moment, he thought, he was looking forward to doing his job again.

Happy Friday

A brief mummy rundown.

Here's what we've dealt with during the last 54 days.

4 mummy related stories on the 10th of Jan
Another on the 25th
Here's a more imaginative piece from the 1st of Feb.
Another on the third...
And a mummy vs zombie post that same day
On the 10th...
The 20th...

Mummy enough for ya?

Cat Parasites...A Fjordian Essay

For those of you who are privy to my regular conversations (a lucky few these days) this post won't be much of an enlightenment, but I've been meaning to do an overarching summary of the news stories I've seen in the past regarding the Toxoplasma parasite. For those of you unaware of this particularly interesting little critter, here's a brief summary.

The Toxoplasma lives in cats, specifically cats brains. After it's lived long enough, it moves into the cat's digestive tract, and then is pooped out into the world. The primary goal of the Toxoplasma is to be ingested by a rat - feeding off the cat feces.

Once ingested by a rat, it changes the rat's normal behavior - and basically makes it unafraid of cats. Thereby assuring it being re-ingested by a cat. Here's this older link to the original story.

Now, it appears after further study, that the Toxoplasma parasite, can, and does, in fact, infect humans.

"Parasitologist Jaroslav Flegr of Charles University in Prague administered psychological questionnaires to people infected with Toxoplasma and controls. Those infected, he found, show a small, but statistically significant, tendency to be more self-reproaching and insecure. Paradoxically, infected women, on average, tend to be more outgoing and warmhearted than controls, while infected men tend to be more jealous and suspicious." (this quote from the good people at Boing Boing - summarized from the CORANTE article here. - warning - sloooow download, but worth reading.)

So, this little beastie not only changes the behavior in rats - but also manipulates the behavior of humans - in fact to such an extent that it changes human behavior according to gender. (Which I find especially creepy) Scientists have determined that Toxoplasma does not pose a health threat to humans as long as their immune system is not compromised. However, this statement doesn't seem to imply that psychological changes in human behavior BY A FOREIGN CREATURE IN THE BRAIN is a health threat. However...this is not the end of the story just yet.

Today, popping up on my news radar was this little tidbit. "Sea Otters Dying From Cat Parasite." It seems that infected cat shit is being washed into the oceans, filtered by mollusks and shellfish, which are consumed by the Otters, and are then infected. The interesting thing here is, 1) we now have a parasite that can live in 5 different hosts, (cats, rats, humans, shellfish, and otters(altho this article also implies the parasite can travel in birds - so maybe six)) and 2) 17% of all sea otter deaths from 1998-2001 were caused by brain infections brought on by the Toxoplasma parasite. With a brain infection, Sea Otters are 4-times as likely as healthy Otters to be EATEN BY A SHARK!

Here ends the fully educational portion of our essay.

However, I have a few other speculations I'd like to mention.

Here we have a very adaptable and insidious parasite, which is nearly proven to live in multiple species, and changing their hosts behavior for their own uses. What does that mean they're doing to a shark's brain? Sharkfin soup is a popular dish in many Asian countries...do they make sharks more catchable so they can get back into human system again? Or, perhaps the parasite waits till the shark dies - is consumed by scavenger fish, which are then controlled into being more easily caught in nets, whereupon they are deposited (with our help) back into cat food? These questions are better left to smarter people than I, however, this will shortly tie in with my current hypothesis on mummies.

-Tsunami-

Thanks Everybody!

And yeah...

I miss you too.

-Tsunami-

Short. Month.

Seven days left to conclude your business in February.

This makes me speculate...exactly what my goals in February were.

I've mentioned before - lists are powerful creatures...and I, am a list maker. Part of this rolls from my compulsive writing down of ideas that I find amusing. Lemme tell ya, if you come up with something - write it down! If you don't, odds are you'll find yourself next to an attractive and charming "other" in the line at the local food court, who, eschewing all reason decides to strike up a conversation with you.
"Did you see last weeks "Desperate Housewives?"
They'll ask, and you'll be tripping all over your brain to find the neurons that will tell you that you did or didn't. Then, coming up with a suitable response, you'll respond with the most appropriate inflections...yea or nea is unimportant, the important part is keeping the conversation alive with the charming other.
And, having continued the conversation (in defiance of all odds) through the line, past the order-taker, and next-to the soda fountain, you'll astound yourself by asking the attractive and charming other's name. Whereupon, they'll reply some unusual and perfect name, and in between spending the time being charming yourself - you'll be saying their name over and over "Dashiell" or "Alicia" or "Estavan" or "Samantha" so that you won't forget because THIS COULD BE THE ONE!

Of course it isn't, and as soon as they get their Arby's "western-style" combo - they're gone, and you're hoping you can remember their name in case you meet at the food court again. Which of course you won't, and now, you've forgotten your idea. I KNOW THIS! And that's why I write things down.

So anyways - I also have lists. Let's look over one and see...
1) Finish Script -- Ah! One down. Altho, finish is verrrrrry subjective.
2) Pay phone bill -- Not bad - I'm two for two.
3) Heater? -- unfortunately, sometimes I write things down with no context. I don't know what this one means. -- draw.
4) Shelf Space -- Okay, this is important, and I've tried to make it happen, but what space I've gained, I've promptly filled with other crap lying around. -- So...that's a No.
5) Cross-Bread a possum with a lobster. -- This is one of those ideas I had that I thought would be funny, and I didn't have any where else to write it. But, it's on the list and I didn't even try and acquire a possum. -- Another no.
6) (oh this is rich) Live Better -- Good Gjod, who actually writes that on a list. -- No.
7) Junk Junk - Okay, this is something I've been doing for about two weeks, but I still look around and see junk. This might get a check-mark next to it for "in progress" but... --No.
8) Buy new Voodoo dolls. -- I needed to do this last month, but I've still blown it off. --No.
9) Bake cookies for the neighbor kids. -- First time I saw this, since I wrote it, and it scares me. No idea what was in my head here, and happy I didn't. -- No. (and it's crossed off as of now!)
10) Legally Change Name to "Johnny Verdugo" -- No. Altho, in my defense, there were quite a lot of forces working against me on this one. Let me just ask you this. Wouldn't you feel just a little bit better knowing Johnny Verdugo was out there, somewhere?

Hope yer doing better on your lists than I am.

-Tsunami-

It's a President's Day Miracle!

Don't hear that one too often, so I thought I'd be the one to say it. I'm about to hit the town for some curry...just cause it sounds about right.

Meanwhile, searching out Mummy News, I found (a link that doesn't work anymore - but...reading the following will fill you in...this post is really old...)

It's more an update of previous stories, but it does have some great info on FAMOUS MISSING MUMMIES!

Here's an excerpt.

Some important New Kingdom rulers are still missing. One of them is Queen Hatshepsut, one of the first powerful female rulers in world history. 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.

Why can't they find the mummies of Pharaohs Ay and Horemheb, or Queen Hatshepsut? I'm sure you know what my speculation is - THEY'RE WALKING AROUND SUCKING THE LIFE OUT OF POOR SAPS WHO AREN'T ON GUARD AGAINST MUMMIES!

Anyways, my precautions might be a little over the top for some folks, but I'm letting you know that every night, I go to sleep armed with this! (yeah, yeah I know what you're thinking - why is Tsunami hung up on all that retro crap? In this case (1) it was the best I could afford at the time, and (2) at least I have an anti-mummy weapon.)

I'd recommend you do the same - that way, when the mummy of Pharaoh Akhenaten comes sneakin' in the window some night to squeeze your soul into his hungry gullet, you can sent him back to Ra - posthaste. Maybe while you're doing that, you could drop in a cool action-movie line like, "Hey Nefertiti! Tsunami Sent Me!" But whatever, just as long as we GET these creepy undead before it's too late.

-Tsunami-

A little image before I go.

deathbot?

Friday stands at the lectern

In front of a huge assembled audience. The official Friday seal is affixed to the podium. (For those who are interested - it's got a rocket-car, hovercraft and Lear-Jet, set in a triangle, within, is a man in a tux, with a top-hat and cane, and a woman in a flattering, and low-cut evening gown. They stand next to a table with two martini glasses. Around the outside is text reading "Friday - King of All Weekdays." Pretty slick.)

"I'm continuously astonished," Friday begins, in his rich baritone, "at life's ability to find new ways to confound me."

*the audience claps madly in agreement*

"As always, there are the repeats of problems which we've all faced before...not enough money, the regrets of lost loves, the sinking depression just knowing you were happier at some other time. The self-realization, that you are in no way close to where you should be in personal, or professional life, and that your hobbies are meaningless and stupid in comparison with what others are doing!"

*the audience breaks into it's mad clapping again*

Friday takes a moment, and reaches under his lectern for his cocktail, and takes a hearty drink. He slips it back, and continues when the applause subsides.

"But apart from these - and the others -" Friday puts the back of his hand up to the mic, and speaks in a soft whisper. "and I know, you all know what I mean."

Friday drops the whisper and begins speaking in a louder clipped tone.
"Then there are the ones you don't see coming, from out of left field - Voodoo curses! Zombie attacks! Towering deathbots with chemical lasers and rockets! Webmonster viruses combining with Ebola, SARS, and Dengue Fever, spreading between computer and man through the keyboard interface - leaving piles of silicon vomit and diarrhea leaking out the disk-drive, USB ports and cooling vents, next to the real piles of blood, puss, vomit and diarrhea spewed from it's up-till-then healthy operator. I ASK YOU: WHO WOULD HAVE SEEN THAT COMING!!?? IT'S INCREDIBLY CONFOUNDING!

*The audience leaps to it's feet cheering and clapping in a near frenzy! The auditorium is defening. Cheers and yells are called out*

Friday has another sip of his drink, and looks out approvingly at the crowd. He toasts them, and then speaks.

"I'm not here to..."

The audience drowns out his words with their applause. They begin to settle down.

"I'm not here to tell you how to avoid these things, that would be pointless and foolish. There are things that cannot be predicted, or avoided...and you all know deep in your hearts that is true."

Friday pauses meaningfully...he savors the pause, and rolls it around in his mouth. He knows they're going to love this.

"Therefore, I, in association with Friday Incorporated Business's (authors aside: FIB) of which you are all shareholders, have created THIS!"

Friday holds in his hand a small yellow pill. He smiles out to the audience. Cameras pick up the smile and the pill, and project it onto the back of the auditorium on huge screens which suddenly flick on!

"A hundred million dollars in development, and worth every penny!" Friday pauses, and places the pill on the top of the podium. He knows what everyone is thinking, but he still gives them a bit of time to think it. "What does it do? You ask. It inhibits befuddlement!

*The audience wonders what, exactly Friday is saying.*

We can not prevent confounding events from happening, be we can chemically adapt the mind so under any bizarre, amazing, ridiculous, outlandish, freaky, occurrence - one will react in a perfectly reasonable, and stylish manner! I give you Test Subject B!" The massive screens show a picture of a regular man, attired as an office drone. We fed Subject B, the anti-befuddlement pill, and sent him without warning, back through time to the Jurassic era! On observation, we found Subject B quickly took stock of his situation, and created a spear. Having created a weapon, he then did the next best thing. He, set out to find shelter - whereupon, locating a cave, he began building an array of defences for his new home. Then found the tinder which would ignite a fire - which he could create with his pocket lighter - as he had enough sense to realize was an important tool. This, thusly, kept him warm, and alive through the night. From there, he set out to find food, felling a small lizard-creature with his spear. In all, Subject B lasted three full days, before we returned him to the present time, whereupon he took stock of his situation, and promptly asked if his employer was aware of his absence. This, in contrast with Subject A - who was not given the pill, who ran madly - and stupidly - I might add, in confusion for ten minutes, where he was quickly eaten by a pterodactyl. LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! THE ERA OF BEING CONFOUNDED IS OVER!

*The audience gets it. They explode in cheers and whistles, and applause! It's wonderful.*

Friday gives one last smile at the crowd.

"Good night, and...might I add. A very happy Friday to you all!"

Yeah - Thurs.

Talk about burning the candle at both ends with a flamethrower...

Gonna leave you with a "Classic Fjord" and call it a night.

My Friends...

Happy Hunchback Day!

Busy on another project that's been tickling the brain for a while, and I'm sure you'd all approve. However, the W.C.B. is shut down for the night. Maybe tomorrow too...we'll see.

V-Day?

Yeah, yeah...all that stuff. Don't kid yourself, Fjord Loves Love! Tons. All for it, in all of its strange manifestations. "Bring it!" We say.

I was going to write some sort of masterpiece about all the lonely, broken, desperate, aching, contented, fulfilled and pounding hearts out there. But I have a date with a sponge, a bucket, and my kitchen floor. All three are looking at me with bedroom eyes, and don't get me started on the shapely laundry pile resting seductively near my closet...implying numerous perversions. And since I'm a multi-tasking dude, I also have a deadline for tomorrow, with another delicious labor of love in the expansive next-door file on my hard-drive.

So, no masterpiece. We're so in demand, there's just no time.
Hope you're all feeling as wanted as we are tonight.

W.C.B.

Monday: Why I love robots.

This.

And Definately THIS!

Any mummy news that slipped past me?

Hello...and...one...more...thing...

GOOD MORNING!

Could be worse than Monday.

Got this from W. Ellis' site. It kicks-ass, and you should visit.

Another few items

The other day I was noticing my bag was starting to get a little ratty - so I wandered around some places...browsing, as it were.
This Place had some pretty cool stuff.
Also cool gear here. (tho you have to move about three pages in to find stuff.)

Just as a side note. It's funny that a tough bag starts wearing out after five years, but humans can live up to (what's it now...110?) I rarely think of myself as "durable," but I've probably gone through at least 15 separate bags (of various quality) in my lifetime. I also plan to keep functioning longer than every single car you saw today.

On a different note. Researchers have come up with a nano-particled surface that AUTOMATICALLY CLEANS YOUR BATHROOM!

Kickass!
Altho, in another side note. I'm already developing ideas on how to use this technology for evil.

Who's Reading?

If you are, GO HERE NOW.

Launch the gjoddamn jukebox, and turn yer compooter into a fjucking sonic experience!

These kids are stupidly good.

Friday sat at his massive desk

Reading a single sheet of white paper. His chair was a nice big black number, and his desk was made of redwood, that was polished to a mirror sheen. Inset to the desk were a number of monitors that showed various scenes from around the globe. He finished reading, and fed the sheet of paper into a shredder. It activated with a hum, and ripped the paper into a million bits. He smacked his hands together a couple of times, and rocked back in his chair. He let out a contented sigh, got up, and walked out of the office.

The office was in a wing of a gigantic mansion, and Friday strolled through huge, opulent, and empty halls, until he came to the armory. He entered, and gazed at an array of weapons lined up on the walls. His gaze passed crossbows, rifles, old-timey flintlock pistols, spearguns, shotguns, swords, knives, maces, axes, assault rifles, machine guns, foils, rapiers, revolvers, automatics, brass knuckles, Derringers, garrots, whips, flails, spears, daggers, and an array of dangerous looking throwing-stars.

He picked up a speargun from the wall. Behind it was a post-it-note, that was yellowed with age, but miraculously still stuck to the wood paneling. Upon it was written

"You are a good boy - Venus"

Surrounding the words, were drawn eight poorly constructed (and very cute) stars.

"Fjuck." Said Friday. He looked around, and spied on a coffee table, a pad of post-it's, and a black sharpie. He walked over and scribbled some words on the pad. It read,

"The one I love, I will shoot through the heart with a speargun, and pull her to me."
He pulled the note off the pad, walked back and stuck it next to the other note on the wall. He replaced the speargun, and left for the night.

Happy Friday.

Everything...and I mean EVERYTHING's

Coming up mummy!

Fjordlings...this was cute at first. But really...it's starting to get creepy.