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?

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.

...standing...Hey SPACE MUMMIES!

Ohmygodohmygodohmygawd!

(please excuse the fake enthusiasm, but there's been little to be enthusiastic about lately)

...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.

still standing...

Haven't been able to fix the problem yet.

Here's another good read tho.

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

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...

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.

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

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.

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.

You should probly watch this

It's pretty amazing

really.

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.

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.

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

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-

Wednesday Morning Robot Stuff

They're coming - err, sorta. (and sorta not work safe.)

This squidbot's pretty cool lookin'.

So, like, how much?

"How much for how much?"

"Yaknow, all night with the sexbot."

"You have to ask, it's too much."

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.