What the?!

Did anyone else know that today was national pie day?

Did I miss a memo or something? I feel so unprepared. I don't even have the groceries to whip up a quick pie.

Bummer.

WW's Bday

So Wonder Woman had a birthday, but what does it mean? Let's check the handy blogthings birthday quiz!

Your Birthdate: January 15

You take life as it is, and you find happiness in a variety of things. You tend to be close to family and friends. But it's hard to get into your inner circle. Making the little things wonderful is important to you, and you probably have an inviting home. You seek harmony with others, but occasionally you have a very stubborn streak. Your strength: Your intense optimism Your weakness: You shy away from exploring your talents Your power color: Jade Your power symbol: Flower Your power month: June

What Does Your Birth Date Mean?

WW? Stubborn? FLOWERS!! Can it be true?!

And since I think she'll get mad at me unless I reciprocate, here's mine:

Your Birthdate: Classified Ninja Secret

You are more than a big ball of energy - you are a big ball of hyper. You are always on the go, but you don't have a type a personality. Instead of channeling your energy into work, you instead go for fun and adventure. Witty and verbal, you can have an interesting conversation with anyone. Your strength: Your larger than life imagination Your weakness: You tend to be pretty scattered Your power color: Lime Your power symbol: Lightening bolt Your power month: March

What Does Your Birth Date Mean?

Lime?? LIME??!! Hmmm, my power color is so tasty!

Random Star Wars

I laughed. And then I felt bad that I laughed.

Friday Fun

They're taking the hobbits to Isengard!

Story: Part the 19th

In which difficult moral questions are addressed. Also, featuring a new acronym!

The last grain of sand gently plopped down in the hour glass.
“Time!” called WW.
“Hah!” The faun proudly displayed his sheet of parchment with the words snaking down in an elegant cursive hand.
BSA glanced at the list and with a competitive smirk remarked, “Oh! It’s so cute and little!!” With a flourish she whipped out a large pile of parchment, which landed in the center of the glade with a very solid THUD.
“What is that!?” the faun stammered.
“Where I come from it’s called a ‘ream’” BSA continued smugly, “Of course, after I got bored finding all possible word combinations I also calculated your AMT.”
“But…but, I’m a mystical fantasy creature! I don’t pay income tax!” The faun stared at the parchment in horror. “You know what? Never mind. We’re not even going to compare lists. I just want you to go away.”
“Yeah! I win! I win! I win!” DFL triumphed before breaking into a hacking cough.
“All right little goat dude, tell us how to get home!” WW menaced.
With a sigh and a withering glare the faun began. “You will need to find a quartet of powerful and ancient wizards known only as 'The Croquet Players.' Their ways are ancient and mysterious. They can be found in the Menacing and Enchanted Forest.” he sketched a quick map in the snow. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m taking my Boggle game and going home.” With a huff the faun grabbed his game and ran out of the glade.
“Finally, the word game is over” TA sighed as she stepped out of the shadows.
“There you are!” WW pointed dramatically.
“This sucks” coughed DFL. “Look at this map, the forest is forever away and probably lacking in amenities. Blue and Frozen is not a good look for me!”
A thick fur coat sailed across and landed on DFL. “Sweet! Mink!”
Everyone turned and stared at TA.
“What?” TA put on her innocent eyes.
“You stole that faun’s Magical Bag o’ Stuff!! That means there Is No Receipt!” BSA gasped in horror.
WW stared at TA in shock. “You can’t steal. We’re the good guys.”
“The technical term is ‘protaganist’ and stealing is part of the ninja lifestyle. Why I remember back at ninja school. . .”
“Well you’re part of our group now and we have a firm No Stealing policy. Isn’t that right DFL?”
DFL was trying on her new coat. “Oh yes, horrible. Horrible. There’s no denying the moral implications that stealing has on our status as heros.”
A can of Diet Coke landed at her feet. “But obviously TA was just requisitioning much needed supplies for our quest. Including such desperate commodities as a pair of Sartore leather knee boots, a Marc Jacobs satchel, and Brad Pitt.”
The boots and the bag plopped over by the Coke. DFL tapped her foot impatiently, coughing intermittently.
“It’s a Bag o’ Stuff.” TA pointed out, “inanimate objects only.”
“This is wrong!” WW made a grab for the ninja, but TA evaded it easily. “Back me up BSA!”
“Give me one of those bags and a Coke and we’re good.” BSA shrugged.
“Fine.” Growled WW as her face went red, “Then I want some whole milk!”
TA distributed her bribes, er supplies. “Great, now let’s head to the forest.”

The four friends headed for the MAEF, not realizing that it is the fate of all wandering adventurerers to have a random monster encounter between sets. Er chapters. Quests. Whatever. They had just passed the snow line and were making their way through the muddy countryside when they were set upon by:

A: The Peanut Gallery
B: Hippies
C: Yama-Uba, the mountain crone
D: Ekibiogami: The Japanese god of epidemic diseases such as plague and pestilence

Monday AMV-late

What can I say? I love a nice long weekend. Here's an AMV based on anime that WW knows. Yeah! Apparently, Madonna's Die Another Day is quite popular for these things.

Friday Fun

"Nice web, Mr. Crack Spider"

This is a lovely educational film about the effects of drugs on web building spiders. The crack spider is my personal favorite.

Death of a Pop Tart

warm raspberry jam
broken pieces, shattered hopes
on the dirty floor

Random Star Wars

I really need to learn how to make movies like this. Because this is awesome.

Background

I thought it might be nice to have some background on the Shadowrun Drabbles. From Wikipedia:

Shadowrun is a cyberpunk-urban fantasy cross-genre role-playing game, set in the years 2050, 2053, 2060 or 2070 (depending on the game edition) following a great cataclysm that has brought use of magic back to the world, just as it begins to embrace the marvels (and dangers) of technologies such as cyberspace, omnipresent computer networks, genetic engineering, and the merger of man and machine called cyberware. Despite its departure in some respects from the "mainstream" cyberpunk genre, Shadowrun is perhaps the best-known and most popular RPG for this genre.

***
For our group specifically:

Many years ago, starving college students in a cold and wintery land gathered together to spend their evenings weaving tales, eating pizza, and cursing the dice. The ones I can remember are listed here:

Cast of Characters:

Hildy
Real Name: Brunhilda Avantegarde
Race: Human
Occupation: Lone Star Special Ops, Officer
Clothes: Business Casual, Leather Duster
Weapon: Ares Predator
Motto: What I lack in skill I make up for in enthusiasm!

Grunt
Real Name: Unknown
Race: Ork
Occupation: Lone Star Special Ops, Sergeant
Clothes: Three piece suit, fedora, and a pair of small gold-plated reading glasses.
Weapon: Assault Canon
Favorite Book: Pride and Prejudice


Cinder
Real name: Unkown
Race: Elf
Occupation: Fire mage
Clothes: Combat boots and pants, tank top, leather duster
Weapon: Her own fiery rage
Pet: A cat named Mr. Fluffers

Son-Ja
Real Name: Unknown
Race: Dwarf
Occupation: Samurai
Clothes: Armored kimono, jeans, sandals
Weapon: The enchanted sword of her ancestors
Special Skill: Physical Adept

Raven:
Real Name: Unknown
Race: Human
Occupation: Thief and professional snob
Clothes: Fabulous
Weapon: Poison
Greatest Fear: Flaming Jell-o
Interesting fact: Is currently wanted for questioning by Papal Guard Intelligence

Drabble: Illegal Parking

You know, keeping this sucker to 100 words is especially difficult since one of Hildy's character traits is to ramble on incessantly. Maybe I'll do one that's just Hildy talking.

Cinder stumbled groggly through her apartment, looking for coffee to help dispel the early morning gloom. Clad only in boxers and a tank top, with her curly red hair reaching desperately for the ceiling, the young witch still had the grace and ephemeral beauty of her Elvin race. She filled the coffee pot with water, focused, glared, and set it boiling on the stove. A sudden pounding on the door made her jump as an excited voice rang out, “Cinder! It’s Hildy! I need your help on amazing case! Hurry, I’m double parked and the meter maids here are vicious!”

Story: The Continuing

In which a faun posts his list.

Eyebrows furrowed in concentration the faun stared furiously at the boggle grid. The only sound in the glade was the furious scratching of feather pen on parchment as BSA scribbled like a madwoman. DFL, who normally was a boggle fiend, had succombed to the cold temperatures and lack of Diet Coke and was down with a nasty cold. TA was writing slowly and muttering something about Battleship and making "Kablooie" noises. WW was building a snowman, since word games were not a part of the Amazon way.

At last the final grains of sand in the ornate hourglass dropped and the contest was over. With a flourish, the faun produced his list:

Lawn
lawns
wan
pawn
pawns
mop
sin
sins
fit
sat
sate
lop
mite
mites
son
sons

Will BSA triumph? Will they ever get out of the snow? Will WW find a carrot for her snowman's nose? Will DFL manage to look fashionable while sick?

Stay tuned...

Apparently

Certain people out there don't think "naggery" is a real word. It almost pains me to point out that naggery is when someone combines chocolate and vanilla soft serve and puts it in a cone.

Just kidding. Obviously naggery is when someone combines the dark forces of nagging and flattery to wreak their horrible will.

Just wanted to clear that up.

Shadowrun Drabble: Kiss

For Dan. Curse your naggery!

A drabble is a short, 100 word story. A site I like offers a topic a day for a drabble. Today's was "Kiss."

The constant rains seeped through coats to produce a wearying, bone-deep chill. Forensics searched doggedly through the muck as rain-diluted blood seeped across the alley. Lone Star Officer Brunhilda Avantegarde surveyed the crime scene, wearing her best 'grim determination' face to hide her inner triumph. Responding officer! To a Homicide!! And Grunt was "investigating” in Bermuda! She would show them all. She gloved up and strode purposefully into the alley, ignoring the dirty looks of the techs, and frowned meaningfully at the Kiss Killer’s latest victim. She deftly plucked the scarlet wrapped candy from his forehead. “Cherry Cordial. That monster!”

Story: VLAWMIN is so a word!!

Before I start, there has been some complaining that I ignore votes and go with whatever my little heart desires. To stomp out this unfortunate and baseless accusation (seriously, if I wanted to do that, I'd just write the story) I now offer the tally from our last segment.

Boggle: Three
Battleship with sound effects: One
Trivial Pursuit: One


And now.. on to our continuation.


The faun reached deep into his sack and pulled out a small plastic container. The bottom was bright blue and held a 5X5 grid. Sitting in the grid were dice with various letters stamped on the sides. A clear shell over the top protected the dice.
“We play Boggle” the faun announced seriously.
“YES!!” BSA screamed as she raised her fists triumphantly in the air.
“Sweet!” DFL said as she settled herself comfortable in the snow.
“Crap.” Swore TA.
“Boggle?” WW asked confused.
“Boggle” the faun explained “is played with a tray of 16 letter dice, which is shaken to get 16 random letters”
“But there are 25 dice, because the grid is 5X5.” BSA asserted, showing off her mathematical skills.
“Obviously someone used a different random generator” the faun signed flicking a dirty look at TA. “Anyway, you have three minutes” the faun reached into the sack and pulled out an ornate hour glass, “to find as many words as you can in the grid, according to the following rules:
• The letters must be adjoining in a 'chain'. (Letter cubes in the chain may be adjacent horizontally, vertically, or diagonally.)
• Words must contain at least three letters.
• No letter cube may be used more than once within a single word
• No foreign words
• No names
• Any challenged words have to be found in the dictionary

The faun then pulled out a large, leather bound Oxford’s English Dictionary. “One point will be awarded for each word that you find, that no one else does. 2 points will be awarded for words with 6 letters. Whoever has the most points wins.”
The faun pulled out pens and pencils and distributed them.
“That bag is amazing.” TA sighed, looking at it speculatively. The faun inched it closer to his side.
WW’s face creased in a frown as she regarded her writing implements, “Hey, I thought this was supposed to be all like a fantasy environment but you gave me a bic!”
“Fine” the exasperated faun muttered. He swiped their papers and pens for parchment and ink feather pens. “Happy now?”
“Yes.” WW said smugly as she dipped her pen into the ink well.
“No.” stated BSA, TA, and DFL in horror.
“Good. Let’s start.” The faun picked up the grid and shook it vigorously. “Okay ladies, time starts… NOW!”

All right girls, have fun, no fights, no cheating, and no dumping ink wells over Wonder Woman’s head.

V O L I N
L P M J C
A W F I T
A N S E A
O S I S S

WW's Ranch

To the untrained eye, I spent the New Year's weekend watching the first season of 24. In actuality I was time traveling to the future, where I managed to get this footage from Wonder Woman's New Zealand ranch. Of course, it's disguised as a modern day commercial in order to avoid a paradox that would tear the fabric of space and time destroying all life as we know it because I'm considerate like that.



I also can't help but notice that all of your ranch hands are of the young and male persuasion you naughty girl.

Friday Fun

A little something to help SOME of us get through our work day.

*cricket*

Hey?! Where did everbody go? Was it something we said?

More than meets the Eye

Awesome.

Pachabel is stalking me!

A comedian's awesome rant about Pachabel's Canon in D. Although his little whine about only having 8 quarter notes to play struck no sympathy from me. He should try low brass. I had songs where I rested for 54 measures, followed by exciting whole notes of doom.



Greenday's Basketcase will always make me think of Pachabel now.

Why Wonder Woman!!

Look at you on Yahoo news. Hugging Random Strangers.



There's even video here.

Random Star Wars Post

Horoscopes for 2007

From The Onion.

Taurus April 20 - May 20
After years of wandering purposefully through life, a chance encounter this April will at last restore your faith in mere coincidences.

Scorpio October 24 - November 21
This year will mark the 30th anniversary of Star Wars, so there's really little point in speculating what it will hold for you.

Capricorn December 22 - January 19
Marriage will feature prominently in your life during the first half of 2007, while hope and an opportune flight of stairs will feature prominently in your life during the second half.



So marriage in the future for WW and BSA. You go girls!!

The Best of the Rest:

Libra September 23 - October 23
Learn to focus on the positives this year, instead of just dwelling on January, February, March, April, May, June, July, August, September, November, and December.

Cancer June 22 - July 22
2007 might finally be the year when you take your life into your own hands and begin doing something proactive about your future. Keep checking back here to see if that's indeed the case.

Aries March 21 - April 19
You will be reunited with a long-lost love as soon as the last of the snow melts away in March.

And my personal favorite:
Pisces February 19 - March 20
The New Year will start out with a bang for you. Unfortunately, it will also end with a bang for you.

Chapter the Sixteenth

In which there are many exclamation points!!!!!!!1111!!!!!one!!!!

With the clickety-clack of little goat hooves a faun came tapping into the glade. He had a long red scarf wrapped around his neck to protect him from the cold. He also carried a small knapsack over his shoulder. He looked up and stopped as our heroes and faun stared at each other in shock.
TA was the first to recover, “I notice that you have neither packages nor umbrella, but so help me if your name starts with the letter ‘T’ I’m taking you down.”
“Oh my goodness deary me!” the faun started “no no no my name starts with a … ‘S’ Mr., uh Smith. Yep that’s me.” He said helpfully as he surreptitiously reached into the knapsack. “And since you all seem like such nice and kind people, I’m going to play you a little song” he brought out a small, elegantly carved pan pipe.
“Watch out he’s reaching for his piece!” With a mighty bound WW leapt across the glade and smacked the pipe out of the faun’s hands. She then slid behind him and locked him in a full nelson, threw him in a dragon suplex and finished with a spinning bulldog.
“Whoa. I think you killed him. That’s it, no more WWE for you!” DFL admonished.
“Murder is not the Amazon way. He’s just knocked out. Besides, he was going to use his pipes to control our minds, and fill them with dreams, fantasies and naughty dancing!! He had to be stopped.”
“Mind control?” DFL asked.
“Naughty dancing?” BSA asked.
TA picked the pan pipe out of the snow. “Don’t even think about it you two.” She said as she deposited the pipe in one of her many secret pockets. She looked at the bruised and bloodied faun and sighed. “We really need to talk to him. Dictator, do you think you could wake him up?”
“Sure.” DFL glided over and gingerly took hold of his hair, lifting the faun’s head. “Hello in there! Wakey Wakey!”
“That’s not exactly what I meant.”
“Well I should get paid extra for touching him in the first place. His hygiene is less than fabulous. I’m not about to saunter into his mind” DFL huffed.
“Great. I guess we’ll just have to wait for him to wake up.” BSA sighed, throwing a reproachful look at WW.
“I’m not apologizing. That was a beautiful Nelson! YOU should apologize. I’m not apologizing.” WW turned beet red as she folded her arms and refused to apologize.
So our dauntless heroes waited for the faun to wake up. BSA amused herself by tying him up (don’t ask where she got the rope from. Trust me on this, you don’t want to know) DFL filed her nails, TA meditated and WW tried to explain the pros and cons of a full nelson versus a three quarter nelson. Eventually, the faun regained consciousness.
“Ow.” The faun said.
“All right you little twerp” BSA (bad cop) started “You’re going to tell us everything you know or we’re going to let the Amazon bounce you around some more.”
“No. Stop. Don’t hurt this innocent and obviously harmless faun.” DFL (good cop) drawled in bored tones as she checked her manicure. BSA shot her a dirty look.
“All right look” the faun explained carefully through his bruised and puffy lips. “I’m a mythical creature, you’re obviously heroes on some sort of quest. I just can’t give you information. You have to earn it.”
“How do we do that?” TA asked.
“The usual. Solve a riddle, find some impossible thing, beat me in a game..”
“Game! I vote game!” BSA cheered.
“Very well, untie me and bring me my knapsack.” The faun reached deep into the sack and pulled out:

A: Chess
B: Battleship
C: Boggle
D: Trivial Pursuit: Pop Culture Edition

Nope, I still hate Stan.

Ha ha ha!! This lovely little clip combining Stan with Weird Al almost makes me feel bad about nailing him into a coffin. Almost.

I can hold my breath for 10 minutes!

Monkey Island outtakes set to anime.

Sigh, I miss that game. Any game that features a pack of piranha poodles is good with me.

Monday AMV

I thought I'd get one that WW is actually familiar with this time. I looked for Witch Hunter Robin, but they were all way too EMO for my tastes. So we get to watch Toph in all her awesomeness.

Chapter Whatever

In which BSA has some truly sparkling dialogue.

“I say we head west” WW stated authoritatively, striking leadership pose #23 for dramatic effect.
BSA gave an aggrieved huff, the wolf version of “I told you so” and bounded westward through the drifts.
TA leapt from the tree top and rolled elegantly to the side of her teammates as they followed.
“So why do you think we should go west WW?” DFL queried, trying to keep her mind off her freezing feet.
“Well,” stated WW, “I really wanted to go South and search for penguins and/or polar bears, but then I remembered something my favorite cartographer professor used to tell us.”
“Oh? What was that?” TA asked.
“Go West, young man. Go West.”
DFL and TA shared a confused look.
“I think that might have been a history professor” TA replied at the same time DFL helpfully pointed out, “But you’re not a man.”
“I know that!” WW flushed a bright red as she spluttered “What I meant to say was that whenever I’m drawing maps west always seems easier for some reason. So logically, the west on this map should be the easiest direction as well.”
DFL raised her eyebrows, “Logically. Of course, how could it be any different?”
“Of course.” TA agreed (eyebrow status unknown due to ninja cowl.)
Just then our heroes came out of the trees and into a little glade, where a single black, iron lamppost brought the awkward conversation to a merciful end.
BSA was beside the lamp post, head high as she sniffed the wind intently. DFL and WW walked out to join her as TA continued to skulk along the tree line.
“Something about this place seems awfully familiar” TA said softly, “I don’t trust it.”
“You’re right. I know I’ve seen this before” DFL mused thoughtfully, “Hallmark greeting card?”
Suddenly, BSA’s growl rattled the peaceful glade, hackles raised as she crouched for an attack.
“What is it girl? What’s wrong” WW asked breathlessly.
“Bark BARK BARK wuff wuff bark bark BARK BARK!!”
“What’s that?! Little Timmy’s down the well!?!”
There was a quick squooching sound as BSA morphed back into her terrifying accountant form. She fixed WW with steely glare, “Don’t make me hurt you.” She sighed and looked at the other girls. “We’re surrounded by lawyers. Prepare yourselves.”
As if sensing her words, thick shadows spilled through the trees, surrounding the glade in an inky black circle. The shadows continued to pile on themselves until resolving into roughly humanoid shapes in power suits and armed with briefcases. Above the collar, the shadows swirled lazily in the rough approximation of a head.
“We are here to protect the intellectual property of the Disney Corporation and the C.S. Lewis estate. You will be sued. Resistance is futile.”
Under her mask TA blanched, “Oh crap. It was an accident, I swear!”
“Intent is irrelevant. You will cease and desist, or you will be destroyed.”
WW snapped her fingers, “I knew this looked familiar!”
With blinding speed TA flipped a shuriken at the lamppost, shattering the light.
“There!” She said triumphantly, now it’s a busted lamp post in the middle of a glade. That hasn’t been copyrighted!”
There was a brief silence as the shadows considered the now broken lamppost. They slowly began to melt away, their presence lingering watchfully in the darkness of the forest.
“Yeah, you better run!” BSA scoffed, “Nothing is scarier than an accountant!”
“I wonder what their rates are.” DFL wondered as visions of power danced in her head.
“Phew, that was close.” TA sighed.
“Well, I guess we should continue going west” WW said, picking her way through smashed glass across the glade.
However, our heroines’ westward trek was interrupted by the arrival of:

A: An attack squirrel
B: A woodsman
C: A faun in a long red scarf
D: This option is currently under construction. We apologize for any inconvenience.

Monday

I have the returning to work blues. Fortunately, I have the antics of some stir-crazy squids to make things seem a little better.

Teen Starlets

Thanks to the guys at Robot Chicken, all the hype around Lindsay Lohan, Britney Spear et al., suddenly makes a lot more sense.

Plot-O-Matic the Third

DFL: A Fashion-ista's Revenge
an original screenplay concept
by The Author

Political thriller: An Jedi warrior teams up with a well-built female cyborg to find the true meaning of love. In the process they play Russian roulette with four British men on welfare. By the end of the movie they beat up 47 washed up ex-SNL cast members and end up winning the admiration of their world, living happily ever after.

Think Waterworld meets Cleopatra.

In my defense, Emperor Palpatine was a Dictator AND a Jedi Warrior, so I think it works here.

The Plot-O-Matic Strikes Back

BSA: Blood and Taxes
an original screenplay concept
by The Author

Romance: A sexy district attorney teams up with an alcoholic ex-CIA agent to commit the perfect crime. In the process they turn state's evidence on a nun. By the end of the movie they poison 5 double agents and end up winning the admiration of their co-workers, living happily ever after.

Think Gone With the Wind meets Interview with a Vampire.

Can you believe the Plot-O-Matic has no vampire option!!?? A sexy DA was the closest I could come to a blood sucking accountant type.

And what did the poor nun ever do to you?

The Plot-O-Matic

Here's a great site that helps you generate instant Hollywood gold.

site

What fun! Here's my epic starring our favorite Amazon:

Wonder Woman, Story of a Patriotic Leotard
an original screenplay concept
by The Author
Action: A war hardened soldier teams up with a cute dog named Jake to save the earth from aliens. In the process they accidentally kill a super intelligent chimpanzee. By the end of the movie they hijack 15 oogly aliens and end up winning the admiration of their universe, living happily ever after.

Think Die Hard meets Star Wars.

Ninja Day--Late

Yesterday was Ninja Day. I celebrated this prestigious day drinking Theraflu and sleeping through Return of the King. Hopefully, y'all had much better Ninja Days. Here are the Ask a Ninja guys, with the heartwarming tale of how Ninja Day got started.

Monday Music Video

Today our video is dedicated to WW, since I'm betting that she's the only one who can correctly identify all the instruments.

A Little Taste

Here are two shorts from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix showcasing Bellatrix and Luna Lovegood. Helena Bonham Carter brings the crazy as Bellatrix and I have to admit that I really like Luna, even without her glasses. I guess she fell prey to the pernicious "Only Harry Potter can wear glasses" lobby.

Story Acronyms

Cause I'm too lazy to write out names. Bwa ha ha ha ha!!!

Acronyms:

TA: The Author
BSA: Blood Sucking Accountant
DFL: Dictator for Life
WW: Wonder Woman

Story: The Nile is just a river in Egypt!

A quick note: The following contains gratituous adjective use. I love me my adjectives.


The sun sank in a blaze of glorious orange and reds as the evening waves lapped at the soft white sands of the isolated beach. Four wicker beach chairs faced the ocean, the only objects for miles on the empty sands. The first chair was fully reclined for maximum power lounging. An average height blonde with long hair was flopped on top of it, taking her relaxation to such an extreme that at first glance she appeared to be dead. Only the small movements of her fashionable dark red bikini offered subtle signs of life. The second chair was half reclining and held a small blond whose pink paisley string bikini warred with the sun for eye searing brilliance. She was happily sipping cold fruity drinks with umbrellas in them as a flock of chocolate ice cream cones headed south in a ragged v. Some of the ice cream melted in the tropical sun, falling through the air to plop in the sand next to the third chair. “Well that was close,” said a very, very tall blond in a patriotic one piece. She looked relaxed in her upright chair, but was ready to burst into action as her eyes continuously scanned the surroundings for bad guys, hippies, and lemonade stands. She also had sand in her short cropped hair. She wasn’t sure how that happened, but was blaming TA for it anyway. The fourth chair was shrouded in shadow from an enormous beach umbrella. At first it appeared empty, but deep within the murky confines was a small ninja, in full ninja battle dress.
“You know” BSA remarked as she slurped the slushy remains of her second pina colada, “it wouldn’t kill you to wear a swimsuit to the beach.”
“Ninjas don’t do beachwear” came TA’s reply from deep within the chair, “where would I put my shuriken?”
“I thought ninja were supposed to blend in with the crowd” DFL drawled lazily.
“No, ninja are supposed to remain unseen until unleashed on are unsuspecting targets.” TA replied, pride in her voice at her un-alliteration.
Just then a flock of flamingoes landed, produced top hats and canes, and began a tap dance routine.
“You know” said WW, “This is getting really hard to be..”
“DON’T say it!!” demanded an alarmed DFL, propping up on her elbows, “I like this place. Just don’t look if it bothers you.”
BSA nodded in agreement as she grabbed a tiki cup from the sand. This one had two umbrellas and a fruit ka-bob. Excellent.
So the four girls continued to enjoy the peace, tranquility, and magic drink producing sands until a man in CSI coveralls wandered up and began collecting flamingo feathers into an evidence bag.
“Oh come on!” exclaimed TA “He’s doing that all wrong! Your hands aren’t even gloved you doofus!!”
There was a horrible tearing sound as reality reasserted itself and our heroes found themselves back in the cold wet snow: in a toga, a dog, jacketless and up a tree respectively.
“Bummer” stated WW.
“The AUTHOR!!” DFL shouted.
“Sorry!” TA called from her tree perch, “But he was doing it WRONG!”
“Great,” grumbled DFL, “now I’m cold and wet again and we don’t even have a fire”
“Well” TA mused aloud, “there’s this Jack London short story about a guy who tries to kill his dog so he can warm his hands inside its guts and keep from freezing to death.”
They all looked over at BSA, who flattened her ears and growled, showing all her teeth.
“Not that We would ever do such a thing” DFL remanded, throwing TA a dirty look.
“No no, of course not! I was only discussing literature.”
“We should really get going” WW said nervously. She definitely did not want her teammates to start fighting each other. “So, let’s head ..”

A. North
B. West
C. East
D. There is no South. Let’s say, oh I don’t know, let’s say it ends in a big cliff. Pick a different direction.

Darth Vader

Who knew he had a sense of humor?

Music Monday

In order to help with post-Thanksgiving digestion, I have another Evangelion AMV which is based on Asuka. It's Euro-pop, so I have no idea what they're saying, but I'm guessing it's along the lines of: Don't mess with the neurotic German girl.




Geektastic!

Friday Fun

I'm happy to announce that the summer blockbuster season will start with the awesome Spiderman 3 movie.

Also, in completely unrelated news, the two crazy church ladies have reached a tentative peace agreement through a time share option on the bench outside the Episcaplion church.
Original crazy church lady has it in the morning, while the interloper is there in the afternoon.
I for one am glad, as I prefer just general crazy instead of angry violent crazy on my way to work in the morning.

Music Video Monday

Actually, today it's more of a choice music moment than a video from our friends at the Country Music Awards. Keep your eyes on Faith Hill and enjoy. Who knew country could be so fun?



Now, I know what you're thinking. This is a pretty main stream, practically normal video clip. Well, since I know you're all relying on me for geekstatic, and since I will be unavailable next week, I'll make it a twofer.

FYI: New comment thingy

We actually got spammed!! A crack team of anti-spam ninjas has been dispatched, but in the meantime, I've turned on word verification.

All this means is, after you've made your comment, you have to typed in the funky word in the little box (mine was bright green) and your comment will post.

Friday Fun

The Eragon trailer. Nuff said.

The Cold Door

Helpful Acronyms:

DFL: Dictator For Life
TA: The Author
WW: Wonder Woman
BSA: Blood Sucking Accountant

In our last installment, our heroes found themselves in a house of many doors, where they were faced with choosing either a normal door, a burned door, a scratched door, or a cold door.


“Logically, a perfectly normal, non-battered door would be our best bet” TA pointed out as BSA joined them on the ground floor.
“Agreed, but there are many normal doors. How do we pick just one?” wondered Wonder Woman.
“Simple. By using the tenants of Bayesian probability we will be able to deduce which door would lead us to a safe and harmless exit.” TA responded.
“Nonsense” BSA scoffed, “only the objective principles of frequency probability will allow for the rejection or non-rejection of this type of statistical hypotheses.”
“What about Jaynes’ principle of maximum entropy?” TA responded vigorously.
“What about it? Nothing about any of these doors offers testable information. They’re the Normal doors!” BSA argued.
“Guys?” WW gallantly interrupted, thus saving the reader from further statistical discussion, “What’s DFL doing?” They all looked over at the still bemused Dictator who, having found a cold door and believing it to be the entrance to a walk-in freezer, had continued her personal quest for a Diet Coke.
“No wait!” BSA cried in dawning horror as DFL disappeared into an icy blast. WW leapt heroically to the rescue and was also consumed by the frigid light bursting from the still opening door.
“Well, crap” TA responded in surprise as the icy blast wrapped around her, spreading frost patterns across her gi as she was sucked towards the now wide open door.
“Oh man, I hate the cold!” BSA whined as she and TA were pulled into the light, the door slamming shut with a deep boom behind them.

As the light faded our heroes found themselves in a thick grove of pine trees, whose boughs creaked ominously under heavy weights of snow. Fat, heavy flakes continued to drift from a leaden sky, their soft landings the only sound in the cold, muffled atmosphere.
“The only sound except for the ominous creaking you mentioned in the first sentence” BSA snidely pointed out. TA glowered.
“Do you want to do the introductory narration?” she demanded, the snow crunching under her feet as the air trapped in the crystals compressed...
“Wait a minute” interrupted BSA, “you researched the sound of snow crunching?!”
“I’m very thorough” TA replied haughtily. BSA’s laughter rang eerily through the grove until a large load of snow dropped off a convenient branch and onto her head.
“Hey!” BSA grimaced in disgust as she wiped snow off her face, “This is a silk shirt! Obviously, a change of costume is in order.” She concentrated briefly and morphed into a large, tawny wolf.
Meanwhile, under a nearby tree, DFL pulled herself out of a drift as the cold finally shocked her into full consciousness.
“Why did I pick the cold door? I’m in a freaking toga!” She wondered aloud as she started to shiver. WW shrugged and waded over to the tree, removing her thick leather jacket which she handed to the chilled Dictator. DFL gingerly took it, holding the leather away from her as fashion sense warred with common sense. Finally, she took one last look at its patriotic glory before closing her eyes, taking a deep breath, and slipping into its voluminous confines.
“I know I was surprised” TA confided as she glided into the shadows, “we should find shelter before Dictator freezes.” WW, still comfortable in her patriotic tank top and golden bracers, scoured the ground with her Amazon hunting skills.
“There seems to be a path leading North” she stated, pointing dramatically at a patch of snowy ground. A sharp bark drew their attention to BSA’s tail, which was the only part of her they could see in the drifts, and which appeared to be wagging in a Westerly direction.
“I don’t care which way we go as long as there’s a luxury hotel at the end of it” DFL stated firmly. TA’s voice floated down from the tree tops, “It all looks the same from up here!”
“That’s because you’re facing East!” WW called.
There was a moment of silence while this nugget of information was considered.
“Well it’s not like the flipping sun is out! How was I supposed to know?!” There was a rustling of branches and then “Okay, well I’ve circled the whole tree and all I’ve seen in all directions is a bunch of trees and snow. Make of that what you will.”

So, what direction should they choose:

A. North
B. West
C. East
D. Continued State of Denial

Tuesday Times

From the Eminent Librarian:

The Washington Post tries to play.



Hmmm, for reasons unbeknownst to me, you have to click on it to view the image. Sorry.

However, the NY Times remains champion of weird graphics with this snippet from the dating scene:

Monday Music Video

I've decided that having theme days is fun! So here's my new thing for Mondays. Now normally, music videos would be in DFL's domain. And she would probably post some classic rock video, along with some entertaining yet informative trivia or thoughtful analysis.

Alas, poor reader, Dictator is enthralled under the evil spell of work, school, and global domination and has no time for this humble blog.

So it's mine, all MINE!!! And that means it's geektastic!!

So today's video is from another favorite despot of mine, Invader Zim. Zim is attempting to take over the world by using the power of Santa Claus. This is something DFL would never do because she would have to wear a fat suit.

Friday Geek Out

Neat fan-made trailer for a live action Evangelion movie. I love how they pick Elijah Wood for the neurotic Shinji who, it has been brilliantly said, has more complexes than an industrial park.

I disagree with Dunst for Asuka though, she's just seems too nice and meek to pull it off. I suppose that could be because these shots are taken from Spider-man, and it's hard to compare girl-next-door to a girl who's made arrogant toxic nastiness into an art form.

Interesting thought: Who would you cast as Misato? Hmmm, I'll have to ponder this.

Friday Fun

This has been around for awhile, but it's still awesome.

Heroes Haiku

Evil Nicki dead?
Hiro sad about dead bad guys
Neighbor chick's a mole.

Can I just say that I don't believe Nicki is dead. I think this will only make her mad which, hulk-like, will only make her stronger. Super strength and utterly psycho? Yeah, you better run Male Kitty Pryde!!

I also think it's interesting that Hiro already had his Peter Parker orgin moment with the slaughtered poker players. Although I prefer "it's a journery" to "with great power comes with great responsibility" but that's just me.

I also loved how excited he looked when he found out that he'd have a sword in the future. I love Hiro, he's my favorite character so far.

Random Note:
The scene where evil glasses man is looking in shock at a pair of broken glasses as he's being informed of the "Save the Cheerleader" tagline, totally makes me think of Gendo Ikari from Evangelion.

More

The SkaterBoy continues his rampage of evil during his golden years. Obviously this is a job for the Flash. Or possibly DFL.

Tuesday Times

The New York Times saves its most fascinating illustrations for Tuesday. No one knows why this is, but they are dutifully collected by my friend, the Emminent Librarian.
So, I present to you, the fascinating artwork of the Times.



Ths guy looks one of The Tick's associates.

For BSA:



Beware the Peanut Sauce!!! Ware the Sauce!!

Friday Fun

Another commercial classic: The Trunk Monkey

Thurs Haiku

I hate the doctor
So why am I still going?
Stupid appointments.

Friday Fun

One of the greatest..commercials...EVER.

Thurs Haiku

Kleenex is my friend
On a cold and rainy day
Just call me Sniffles

Boring Cheese Post

So as I got up this morning I thought it might be nice to have an omelette. So I opened the cheese drawer and suprisingly enough, there was this giant block of cheddar. It was just sitting there, pristine in its packaging, just waiting to be opened, shredded, and melted over whipped eggs.

But then I realized I'd be late for work, so I grabbed a granola bar.

Fascinating Medical Study of the Day

From the Washington Post:



Of course, after reading this I had to measure my fingers and determine my digit ratio.
Left Hand: Right Hand:
Index: 6.7 cm Index: 7 cm
Ring: 6.7 cm Ring: 6.7 cm


Hmmm,so I have "High 2D:4D on the right hand and equal 2D:4D on the left. I'm not entirely sure what that means, but I guess it's a good thing I reserve my right index finger for really serious pointing and deadly snake katas.
Of course, I like the low ratio indicator of athletic prowess, but I always thought that had more to do with my knee anyway.

Midnight Musings

At exactly 3:15 this morning I woke up with a certain knowledge that something was horribly, horribly wrong and that somehow, my fine tuned ninja immune system was under assualt by a vicious germy foe.
Normally, I would launch a full chemical assault but since I was out of cold medicine my kleenex box and I were left to face those long, dark hours alone.
As the battle raged and a hot, buzzy sensation developed behind my eyes; I let my mind wander to a more peaceful time. When Mariberiboberi (MBOB) and I rented the Sweet Valley High movies at 89 cents a pop, and discovered one of the greatest scenes in cinematic history.

One of the twins (blonde1 or possibly blonde2) is being stalked. She leaves after her late shift at the hospital and heads out to her car. Once in the parking lot,the dramatic background music lets her know that the stalker is near. Nervous she heads to her car, an open air jeep. The music gets more intense as she fumbles for her keys. The music gets even more frantic as the girl desperately unlocks the door, hops in, slams it shuts and locks it behind her. She lets out a sigh of relief. Because now she's safe. In her open air jeep. Then the stalker pops up from the back seat where he was HIDING THE WHOLE TIME!!

The scene ends there, but deep down I know, that after her initial gasp of astonishment, her first thought was: How did this freak get in my car??!!

And then I laughed and laughed and laughed.

Dude I'm totally sick.

Friday Fun

This one is both fun and educational! A song by Jonathan Coulton that teaches one fact about each president of the U.S. This can only help you when you attend wild parties thrown by historians.

Thurs Haiku

Morning walk edition:

Dark and heavy clouds
Three little fuzzballs sleeping
Dawn smells like wet dog

Ask a ????

It's been awhile since our last advice column since our beloved Dictator is quite busy with attempting to rule the world. Fortunately, the guys at Ask A Ninja have us covered.

Rockstar!

There's a site with an Alanis Morrisette lyrics generator. It's loads of fun.
Now you can be a songwriter too!

http://www.brunching.com/alanislyrics

Here is my ode... To Sushi.

"Why"

Dead Fish, Cold Chewy Bits, Sticky Rice
Why God, Why?
Cold Chewy Bits, Nasal Frying Wasabi, Sushi
Why God, Why?

What have I done to deserve this Dark Green horror?
Surrounded on all sides with the Hell of Sushi
Like a Kipling character, I'm wordy and alone
Why God, Why?

Slippery Chopsticks, Dead Fish, Sad Rolley Fish Eyes
Why God, Why?
Sushi, Sad Rolley Fish Eyes, Sticky Rice
Why God, Why?

What have I done to deserve this Dark Green disaster that is my life?
Surrounded on all sides with the Hell of Sushi
Like a Kipling character, I'm wordy and alone
Why God, Why?

What have I done to deserve this Dark Green misery?
Surrounded on all sides with the Hell of Sushi
Like a Kipling character, I'm wordy and alone
Why God, Why?

Why God, Why?
Why God, Why?
Why God, Why?
Why God, Why?


To be perfectly honest, this pretty much sums up how I feel about sushi.a

Friday Fun

Avatar Awesomeness

Thursday Haiku

Metro adventures addition:

Open pocket watch
Swinging on a silver chain
By a dapper man


Metro doors closing
Slide quickly into the car
Not fast enough. Ow.

Friday Fun

Is it too early to be thinking of Christmas?

AARRR!!

So, I've been trying to post a Friday Fun video all freaking weekend and can't get it to work for some odd reason. In fact, according to blogger I succeeded Friday, it's just that no one can see it.
The fact that I've obviously done it before is only making me even crazier.

grrr, anyway, if I ever get it figured out, I found an awesome one about ninjas. You might just have to close your eyes and pretend.

Story Acronyms

Almost forgot to post this:

BSA: Blood Sucking Accountant
TA: The Author
WW: Wonder Woman
DFl: Dictator for Life

A House of Many Doors

BSA slid out of the haystack as she finished buttoning up her shirt. Behind her, a pale muscular German in lederhosen tried to follow but fell back exhausted. BSA turned to him with an aggrieved huff and a smile as she adjusted her jet cufflinks. “Oh now you’ve wrinkled my jacket shatzie, maybe you should just lie there and rest for awhile.” She bent down to retrieve the crumpled suit jacket, stealing another kiss from her latest conquest. His lips were cold, and his chest wasn’t moving. Worried, BSA searched for a pulse. Did she kill him? She became more frantic as memories crowded her mind. Candles, moonlight, that stupid Chihuahua, and a lifeless Fernando, clutched in her arms over spilled reams of black carbon paper.

She awoke with a gasp and found herself lying on a cold tile floor. The tiles were a dingy white, with even dingier grey tiles forming diamond patterns. Grimacing at the tasteless floor décor BSA sat up and looked for her teammates, who she found flopped on the floor around her. WW was beginning to stir, but TA and DFL were still out. They were so cute when they were asleep! BSA resisted an urge to tousle DFL’s hair and checked out their new surroundings.

They were in the center of a large, narrow, oval shaped hall. The ground floor had white marble columns, topped at the second story by gothic arches painted a dark, petulant red. A second story balcony ran along the walls until it reached the ends of the gallery, where a white marble spiral staircase sloped gracefully between the floors. An ornate iron railing guarded the edge of the balcony, while affording a view to the center of the hall. Tall, windows over the staircases let in shafts of cold light, their high gothic points giving them a sinister, watchful look. The marble was worn and scratched, the paint was cracked, the air was stale and cold; BSA figured she could flip the whole room for about $20,000 dollars and sell it for $80,000. WW groaned and sat up, running a rueful hand through her short cropped hair she grunted “Where are we?”
“I’m not sure, you guard the others while I take a closer look.” With vampiric grace and speed BSA floated through the hall, noticing for the first time a series of heavy square doors set into the walls.
“Hey batchick!” WW called, “You might want to get back here!”
BSA whisked back to the center, “What is it?”
“They’re waking up” WW pointed out helpfully.
TA groaned and stirred, the heavy protective fabric of her gi rasping over the tiles.
“Ow,” she said ruefully as she rubbed her cowl.
DFL reached up a languid hand, “I’m ready for my Diet Coke now” she drawled. When no drink was forthcoming, she cracked an eye open and took stock of the situation. “No coke, sub-par accommodations, creepy ambiance, this sucks.” She concluded.
“Does anyone know where we are?” asked TA.
Blank glances all around. “We need more information.” TA sighed.
“Obviously we’re dealing with some powerful magics.” BSA pointed out, “Not only were all four of us transported, but WW’s even been cleaned up!
WW blushed as she proudly petted her restored leathers. “I know!” she brightened, “The Old Crone of Knowledge. She’s great at this kind of stuff.” WW reached into a pocket, whipped out a flip phone, and jauntily started dialing. Her face quickly fell, “I can’t seem to get a signal.”
“It’s cool,” DFL replied as she whipped out an even smaller flip phone, “I have Verizon.”
She attempted to dial. A slight frown creased her brow as she attempted to dial again. She held the phone over her head and dialed again. Horror dawned on her face, “It… It can’t be. I have Verizon! No Coke and NO PHONE??!!” DFL’s voice raised in pitch as the glass shuddered in the heavy gothic windows.
The three girls stepped away from the enraged dictator. “Dude it’s okay, we’ll think of something” TA tried to placate her.
“No Phone?! I Need to TEXT!!” DFL yelled as the cracks in the walls shuddered and grew longer.
TA looked over at WW, “Hey I just got this leather nice again.” WW said defensively.
“And I want my frigging coke!” DFL demanded as the glass finally gave and shattered explosively across the staircases.
“Okay, why don’t you calm down and we’ll go look for a vending machine.” TA suggested cautiously while sliding into a defensive stance.
DFL shot a look at the dictator, the force of it ripping up the tile between them as the ninja flipped away from the glare and behind the Amazon.
As Dictator whirled towards the pair, a smoky fog coalesced behind her, forming into the darkly immaculate BSA, who grabbed Dictator from behind in a massive bear hug. “Group hug!” BSA crowed as DFL struggled to break free. But then her eyes rolled back and she sagged in BSA’s arms. “Come on you guys!” BSA looked over at WW and TA.
“Oh heck no.” TA answered as she put a restraining hand on WW’s arm, “I can see from here that you’re draining her chakra.”
“But she’s so much more calm now.” BSA looked down at DFL, “S’all right?”
“S’all right” DFL replied dreamily.
“See?” BSA pointed out happily.
“We need her coherent” TA warned.
“Fine” BSA conceded and released the Dictator.
“DFL, are you all right?” asked a wary Wonder Woman. (I had to spell it for that lovely alliteration).
DFL smiled, “I dreamed that I was in a story. And that I. . . was the star of that story.”
“Okay,” WW drawled, shooting a look at a smug BSA.
“Hey, at least she’s not trying to kill anybody” BSA sighed with an overdramatic frown, “caffeine addiction can be a brutal master.”
“We need to get out of here,” TA said, “have you looked around?”
“There is a row of doors in each wall, I haven’t been upstairs yet.” BSA reported.
“Check it out, we’ll start examining the doors down here.” TA replied.
BSA snapped off a cheeky salute before bursting into dozens of squeaky bats and flying off to the second story.
WW and TA shared a concerned look.
“I have a cross” WW said helpfully.
“And I have a wallet of wadded receipts.” TA replied thoughtfully
“I love rock and roll” DFL sighed happily.
“We should find an exit before she gets hungry” TA resolved, and WW nodded in agreement.
The doors were solid rectangles of dark stained oak. Iron rivets studded the surface and each door had a large, wrought iron door latch. None of them featured an exit sign.
“Just more doors up here!” called BSA, hanging over a railing.

As our heroes examined the doors more closely in the weak light they noticed that some of them appeared to have been blackened and warped, as if exposed to some great heat. Other doors radiated a biting cold, forming into frost crystals as the girls drew nearer.
Still others had deep scratches gouged into their wooden frames.

“I guess we’ll just have to pick one at random” WW conceded.

So, which door would you like to try?

A: Normal Door
B. Cold Door
C. Burned Door
D. Scratched Door

Ask A Dictator: The Advice Column for Aspiring Fashionable Despots

Dear Dictator,

My superhero mode of transport is an invisible jet. While this makes me effective and intimidating, zipping through the air faster than the speed of sound, I can never seem to locate the jet again after I've parked it in the hangar. How can I solve this little conundrum?

Also, for the new fall superhero season, patriotic mini skirt: tacky or chic?

Looking for jets and fabulousness

Dear Looking for Jets,

Your invisible jet problem is one that has plagued many a super hero. Wandering aimlessly through a parking lot is frustrating at best, and is often compounded by additional impediments such as an escaping villain or fifteen bags of groceries. Fortunately, new jets are now coming equipped with a remote sensor that can be attached to your key chain. This control will allow you to unlock the doors while approaching the jet, making for a speedy getaway, or handily pop the rear hatch for easy loading of aforementioned groceries. When activating the sensor, the lights on your jet will flash once and issue a small "beep", allowing you to locate your air transportation vehicle. High end models also come with a flash memory erase, so that any bystanders who may be a little too curious soon have an intense craving for Ben and Jerry's Half Baked Ice Cream, to the loss of all other thought process.

If you happen to be in possession of a "classic" model, after-market remote sensors are available through ACME Jet Accessories, Inc. Make sure you do your research and find a reputable installation company as this is not a "do-it-yourself" project. One crossed wire can result in dire consequences including instantaneous combustion and sulfuric exhaust fumes.

Regarding the patriotic mini skirt: patriotism is always in style, but sometimes it is a statement best worn on your heart and not on your arse.

With utmost impunity,
DFL

Friday Fun

The Matrix trailer with Muppets. I love Miss Piggy as Trinity

Classical tidbit

I'm currently reading "Heart of Darkness" by Joseph Conrad. I've read the book before in jr. high, and that I can vaguely recall as being creepy. Hopefully I get a bit more out of it this time around. I particularly liked this little passage.

I watched the coast. Watching a coast as it slips by the ship is like thinking about an enigma.
There it is before you--smiling, frowning, inviting, grand, mean, insipid, or savage, and
always mute with an air of whispering, 'Come and find out.'

This is true. This curious feeling of watching a strange coast is one of the things I miss most about the Navy.

An explanation

I was slumbering peacefully last night, when all of a sudden the next part of the story just blossomed in my mind, unfolding in intricate detail.
Yes! I cried as I sat up. Then I looked at the clock, which said 4:00. No!! I cried, because I hate waking up that early.
The only explanation for such an inspiration at such an evil hour of the morning is an attack by Robin McKinley's story pixies. These offensive creatures have supposedly caused her to rewrite and publish the story of Beauty and the Beast three times in a row. I can only assume that they take delight in disrupting perfectly good sleep cycles as well.
However I will not be vicitimized by these fiendish fairies. I must find a way to get them whisper their plot lines during normal business hours.

Also, before I post the Acronyms, I want to point out that as the mere author to a Choose Your Own Adventure, I am merely a humble servant to the wishes of my readers. All 5 of you. And you guys were the ones who stated that you wanted a love scene in the story. And you guys were the ones who chose WW's story next. So WW, when you read this and fly into a murderous rage, I just want you to target the appropriate people.

Acronyms:

TA: The Author
BSA: Blood Sucking Accountant
DFL: Dictator for Life
WW: Wonder Woman
SB: Skater Boy
DOAC Park: Dude on a Column park

The Plot thickens

WW was working on her father’s farm high in the Idaho mountains. The cool mountain air had a bite to it as she hefted hay bales, tossing them lightly into piles with her amazon strength. WW was alone except for the soft mooing of contented cows, yet she was happy and at peace as she worked. Suddenly a sweet tenor sounded across the field, yodeling the ancient songs of the Germanic mountaineers. WW looked up, squinting against the early morning rays as that sweet manly yodel drew closer. Then he was there, cresting the fields in long strides, lederhosen straining over bulging muscles, taller than her, the man of her dreams swept WW up and pulled her close to his broad chest. She snuggled close with a contented sigh, enjoying his warmth and wet, acrid scent.

Wait a minute…

WW opened her eyes with a groan and wondered where she was and what she was snuggiling. Judging by the grit under her left cheek she was lying on cracked cement. Something heavy was on her back, pressing her closer to the pavement. A thick, gooey wetness filled her senses as it dripped down her face and body to lie in sticky puddles around her. As she grew more aware, the memories started to trickle back: the humidity, the punks, the Holstein?

With a roar WW pushed herself off the pavement and free of the mangled remains of the punitive cow. The bright sun dazzled her for a moment and she desperately tried to wipe the blood and gore from her face. She blinked rapidly as her eyes adjusted. The street was cracked and broken, with asphalt ripped open in jagged chunks. These broken pieces were whirling into the air, circling to pick up speed before launching into the scrabbling, ducking crowd of punks. In the middle of this rocky cyclone, DFL stood imperiously, eyes hard in concentration as her hands directed her missiles with deadly accuracy. BSA had nabbed some unfortunate soul and TA was nowhere to be seen; probably in need of rescuing WW harrumphed. Well, as the group powerhouse it was her duty to rout the rabble, for nothing could stop an Amazon in all her patriotic glory. WW looked fondly down at her flag inspired leathers, only to gasp in horrified astonishment at the damaged wreaked by various liquid cow goo. (I could go into detail here, but do you really want me to?) A slow, burning rage began to fill her mind as she reached over and ripped off a hind leg that had somehow remained intact. Someone was going to pay. She hefted the leg and screamed her battle cry, “FOR THE LEATHERS!!!” as she raced into the remaining punks. However, at the sight of this apparition the punks finally broke and began racing in all directions as they attempted to escape their cowey fate.

As the punk mob broke and run, WW dashed madly behind them, using her gruesome club to take down as many as possible. (Like whack-a-mole! Only wetter.)

****
And then there was one. The adventure of DFL.

As the punk mob raced towars TA and DFL, TA looked at the oncoming horde of punks, hefted her bo staff and said ruefully, “you know, ninjas were never meant for crowd control. We’re more of a one-on-one, spy, steal and assassinate type warrior, so I’ll leave this to your more applicable talents”
DFL rounded on the ninja with a furious gaze, “Don’t you dare!!” she began angrily but the diminutive ninja had already gone, fading into the dappled shadows of the park with nary a sound to betray her.
“Fine” DFL continued, just in case TA was still within hearing distance “Any Dictator worth her salt can put down an angry mob. I give you my permission to depart.”
She then turned her attention back to the punks. There were simply too many of them for her to control, and they were getting awfully close. She would have to get creative. DFL smirked at the oncoming horde and said “You dare to challenge me! I control the very streets!” She compressed her will into a tight ball and then using all her focus, mentally slammed it into the road. Under the psychic assault the street buckled and twisted throwing the punks off their feet. The asphalt stretched, bent, and finally split into giant cracks under the enormous pressure of the twisting street.
As the punks attempted to stand up on the remaining road, DFL felt a cold smile touch her lips. Time for step 2 in the rebel smackdown. She directed her gaze at the sidewalk in front of the “House” that may or may not be “White.” It was constructed of large, rectangular blocks of stone. She pointed at a stone block and commanded it to rise. Guiding it’s path with her finger, she flipped it into the stumbling punks where it landed with a satisfying thud. With a grunt she snagged a second block, they were heavier than she expected, and sent it flipping after the first. At the third she felt the first glistening drops on her forehead and became seriously annoyed. Dictators didn’t do heavy lifting. Where was WW when you needed her? She should be here flinging assorted masonry but nooo, that lazy amazon was taking a nap under a cow. She used her irritation to fuel the fourth block, taking out an entire line of punks as it blasted through the air.

Despite DFL’s best efforts, the mass of punks continued bravely on, working their way across the uneven pavement and dodging the stone blocks. One plucky lad actually made it within striking distance before DFL put up an imperious right hand and held him in his tracks. She looked deep into his eyes and intoned, “I’m not the Roman Emperor you’re looking for”
His eyes glazed over and he repeated back, “You’re not the Roman Emperor I’m looking for.”
Still locked in eye contact with the punk, DFL used her left hand to throw another block against his fellows. A sharp pain flared in her right temple, but she ignored it and continued with her enslaved punk.
“You will bring me a Diet Coke”
“I will bring you a Diet Coke” a small drool line was forming at the corner of his mouth.
“Then you will go home and rethink your fashion choices.”
The punk dutifully parroted this back and left as DFL launched yet another block, sending another flare of pain across her temples. DFL staggered under this new flash of pain and decided to change tactics. She focused on all the fragments of asphalt surrounding her and started sending them into the punk mob. Unfortunately, while the fragments stung and left welts they didn’t hamper the now angry and determined punks. DFL frowned, and started the fragments circling around her in a defensive sphere as she searched for new ammunition. The punks hung back, defensive as they looked for a break in the swirling debris. DFL’s eyes landed on the mangled cow and she smiled. That’s what she needed, just a little terminal velocity to turn the tide. She closed her eyes and focused on the fragments whirling around her, spinning them faster and faster until they cut through the air with a high pitched whine. DFL opened her eyes and started sending her high speed shrapnel into the mob with sharpshooter accuracy. Cries of pain rose up from their ranks and the advance stopped as everyone suddenly tried to be in the center of the crowd. DFL continued picking off the edges until suddenly, with a roar of “FOR THE LEATHERS!!” WW leapt into the fray wielding a cow leg and the punk army broke and ran. “Ew, gross” remarked DFL, her lip curling at the blood spatter as WW began chasing the retreating punks.

As the street cleared, DFL picked her way down to the PNC Bank, where BSA was adjusting her makeup in a compact. A pale punk lay limp at her feet. DFL nudged the punk with her foot and said “So will this one be a CPA?”
“Please” laughed BSA as she snapped the compact shut, “I don’t elevate just anyone into the elevated ranks of accounting.” She picked some invisible lint off her suit and looked over the punk. “Although he will balance his checkbook and manage his credit reports obsessively for the rest of his life.”
DFL smirked and replied “Hey, personal money management is important.”
BSA returned the smirk, “That’s right! He should thank me for doing him such a service.”
Just then SB’s unconscious form fell by them and DFL jumped slightly as TA asked “So, I see lots of bodies lying around, how many will be signing up as business majors next semester?”
“Just this one” BSA replied defensively.
“And you shouldn’t sneak up like that, it’s rude” DFL added.
“Hello, ninja?” TA pointed out helpfully, “by the way, where’s WW?” she asked.
BSA shrugged and DFL flapped her hand in the general direction of the park, “She went that way, playing with the leftovers. Did you know she spent most of the battle under a cow?”
“A cow?” said a confused BSA, “How did that happen?”
DFL was about to explain when suddenly, the sky grew dark and a strange, shrieking laugh echoed all around them. “At last!” it said “I have found a worthy adversary!!” The three heroines formed a tight circle, back to back as they tried to identify this strange new threat.
“This can’t be good” remarked TA.
“What IS that?” demanded DFL.
“Nice of it to block the sun,” BSA remarked casually, “I’m growing stronger by the second.”
The weird, shrieking laugh sounded again, and the ground beneath their feet grew soft and they started to sink.
“Crap!” swore BSA as she tried to shapeshift out of the sinking ground.
“Crap in a hat!” swore TA as she tried to leap out of the sinking ground.
“Crap in a freaking bucket!!” Swore DFL as she tried to command the sinking ground.
And off in the park:
“Oh Dookie.” Sighed WW as she pounded at the sinking ground with her cow leg.

However it was to no avail, and soon the ground had swallowed all four heroines and then all was blackness.

Is this the end for our intrepid band of heroes? Of course not… when are heroes awake they find themselves:

A: On a train
B. In a desert
C: In a house of many doors
D: By a lake

Metro Story

So it was a quiet on the metro this morning. Since it was Friday there was plenty of space on the train, and most people were lost in their papers or headphones, or staring out that window at the drizzling wet scenery. Suddenly, the operator comes on the intercom, sounding irritated and asks "Is there a Stacy on board?"
A girl across from me, young twenties with luggage and a pink purse, starts looking nervously around the car to see if anyone else is reacting. "Is this a joke?" She asks.
The operator repeats, "Is there a Stacy on board, please use the intercom at the end of the car."
She gets up and walks to the intercom, presses the button and says "uh.. hello?"
The operator *still irritated*: "Is this Stacy?"
Stacy *nervous*: "Yes."
By now everyone on the train is trying really hard to look like they're not listening. Well except me, I took off a headphone since I was in the middle of the compartment and couldn't hear very well.
The operator continues: "Where you standing next to a woman named Estelle?"
Stacy *nervous and confused*: Yes?
Operator: Well she's up here in the first car and has your umbrella. She wants to give it back to you.
Stacy *relieved*: Oh! Well, tell her I"ll meet her at the airport stop to get it.
By now everyone was trying really hard not to laugh, and there were many smirks hidden behind newspapers as the girl walked embarressed back to her seat, muttering things like "they didn't have to announce it across the whole train, it's not even raining any more!"

Acronyms!

Acronyms:

TA: The Author
BSA: Blood Sucking Accountant
DFL: Dictator for Life
WW: Wonder Woman
SB: Skater Boy
DOAC Park: Dude on a Column park

TA vs. SB

The elusive TA.
Who is this mysterious masked woman who woos weary souls with her magnificent yet elegant prose? And why has she never been photographed with the beautiful yet charming legal secretary corbeau?

TA looked at the oncoming horde of punks, hefted her bo staff and said ruefully, “you know, ninjas were never meant for crowd control. We’re more of a one-on-one, spy, steal and assassinate type warrior, so I’ll leave this to your more applicable talents”
DFL rounded on TA with a furious gaze, “Don’t you dare!!” she began angrily but the diminutive ninja had already gone, fading into the dappled shadows of the park with nary a sound to betray her.
The quickest way to stop the roving punk-horde would be to take out its leader, TA reasoned as she stealthy made her way through the park to SB. After all, if you cut the head off a chicken, did it not run around wildly spurting arterial blood and shrieking its death clucks? TA felt that this metaphor didn’t quite fit the situation, but she had no time to work on it as she was now perched in the leafy tree branches directly above SB. For his part, SB was bouncing lightly on his toes in time to the music, with his fist pumping the air above his head as he chanted his punk battle cry of “Oi! Oi!! Oi!!” or possibly “Oy! Oy!! Oy!!!”
TA dropped out of the tree and onto SB’s oversized melon. She grabbed his arm and twisting in midair used her momentum to flip him over her head and into the ground. TA recovered smoothly from the throw, gliding into a defensive stance as SB popped up from the ground and brushed himself off. “Please” he smirked “I’m a skater, I take harder falls than that for fun.” TA narrowed her eyes, it was time to take the cocky punk down.
Time seemed to slow as SB drew back his arm, his entire body telegraphing his intended punch. TA sidestepped in close, blocking the punch with her left arm while driving her right elbow deep into his solar plexus. As SB doubled over she shifted her stance, grabbed his ears and slammed his head on her knee.
“That was easy” TA thought as she stood over SB’s crumpled and broken form. She began rifling through his clothes, looking for clues and other pertinent items of interest. “Jinkies!” TA yelped as she pocketed the weather machine control. Suddenly the park was overrun by screaming punks, running madly through the trees as they fled for their lives. Behind them stormed a bruised and bloodied WW, screaming her battle cry. In her hands as she hefted what looked like the hind leg of a cow which she used to batter anything in her way.
“Well” TA said conversationally to SB’s unconscious form, “It looks like WW is finally having some fun. I suppose that means I’ll have to carry you.” She finished with a sigh as she hefted SB into a fireman’s carry and went looking for the rest of her team.

All right, only two more to go:

A: WW
B: DFL

Helpful Acronym List

Acronyms:

TA: The Author
BSA: Blood Sucking Accountant
DFL: Dictator for Life
WW: Wonder Woman
SB: Skater Boy
DOAC Park: Dude on a Column park

BSA's fighting debut

As the punkish mob broke free of the ten key tape BSA scowled up at the bright summer sun that was draining her strength. As a blood sucking accountant, she could only access her full powers under the harsh glare of fluorescent lighting in an enclosed space. Since auras, transformations, hypnotic glares, and Quickbooks were denied her, BSA decided to give the punks a good old fashioned butt whoopin’.
She jumped happily into the throng; blocking, swinging and kicking with glee. As she fought her way through the crowd, she evaluated the various punks she pummeled.
“Too short, too tall, too dirty, too scruffy, I can’t believe you wore that out in public! Ouch! Pointy liberty spikes!! Okay, Meh, Soul Patch? Really??!! HOT!” With lighting quick reflexes she grabbed the unfortunate hottie by the collar and yanked him into a sleeper hold, where he struggled vainly before passing out. BSA pulled his head back to expose his neck. “Yeah Me!” She chirped happily before biting down. BSA was soon oblivious as the mob surged around her and continued toward the park. She never even heard the plaintive moo as a cow reached terminal velocity and smashed into the ground not ten feet away.

All right who’s next?

A: WW
B: DFL
C: TA

Sneaky Taffy

Who makes a brown, target dyed (with red bullseye center) salt water taffy and then makes it licorice flavor?
Is not brown the universal color for chocolate? Or possibly root beer? Orange tasted like orange, and yellow green tasted like some form of citrus, so I'm baffled at this skull duggery on the part of the chesapeake bay tourist taffy conglomerate. Did they just run out of black dye? Perhaps they have a hidden camera somewhere, and evil employees are watching with glee as I pop in a tasty treat, only to have it turn into a jaw-sticking molasses mess of nastiness. Have you ever noticed the way licorice flavor fumes creep their way up into your nasal cavity, embedding deeply in various soft tissues along the way so that all the water in the office will not wash them away? These are the thoughts that perplex me.

What can I say? Work is slow and there is deceptive taffy available in the kitchen.
Also there's a bit of a dent in the ice machine for some strange reason.

Update: DFL adds her two cents to the great Taffy conspiracy. "Curse you incognito licorice taffy! You should always be black, the color of your perverted soul!"

She also wonders if taffy smells, and if I should invest in a taffy taste tester.

DFL gets a bonus point for alliteration on that one.

Update: Does taffy smell? Hold that thought. I need to run... hobble to the kitchen to get some more research subjects.

Nuts, only orange and white ones left. IT is hanging out at my station. This is putting a bit of a damper on my experiment.
Will proceed with taffy sniffing when coast is clear.

Also, I shouldn't need a taste tester. I should be able to trust in the ancient universal code of food coloring color coding!

Update: All right, both white and orange smell vaguely licorice-y. Although I think that's the default smell coming from the wrapper, because now that they've been unwrapped for awhile, they don't smell at all.

Bonus: Taffy is a great surface for leaving clear fingerprints.

Update: DFL says "well that's not a bonus if you're the one leaving fingerprints." Here's my rebuttal on the use of taffy as a fingerprinting device.

Yes but if I wanted to get someone fingerprints, I could use the elc (evil licorice coilition) taffy. I'd say, here's some taffy and they'd think "hmm it's brown and therefore chocolate." but after eating a bite, they'd realize it's evil licorice and put the rest down. Then I'd have their print.

Unless they're like me and pop the whole thing in their mouths at once. Destroy the evidence!!

Update: Orange still tastes like orange. White tastes like sweet. It's probably supposed to be vanilla, but it tastes like chewy sugar. So I think this experiment conclusively proves that smelling the taffy will not save you from hidden licorice taffy. Be warned! Stay vigilant!!

Onion horoscopes

Taurus April 20 - May 20
Years of backbreaking work and personal sacrifice will finally pay off when your sales manager, walking hurriedly down the hallway, nods faintly in your general direction this week.

Scorpio October 24 - November 21
Thanks to its prevailing visual conventions, you'll have no trouble distinguishing the good guys from the bad guys in your city's upcoming race war.

Capricorn December 22 - January 19
The mood in the room will be all but ruined the moment your partner decides to steer pillow talk toward payment.

Best of the Rest:

Aquarius January 20 - February 18
While you'll incur the contempt of hundreds for killing a man at point-blank range, you would've likely earned the disdain of thousand more had you missed him from so close.

Pisces February 19 - March 20
Rigid standards set by inspectors at the stuck-up Food And Health Board will result in the closing of one of your favorite neighborhood seafood restaurants.

Virgo August 23 - September 22
Creative inspiration will strike you when you least expect it, which could pretty much be anytime between now and March of next year.

And for the BSA:

Cancer June 22 - July 22
Circumstances this week will force you to sheepishly admit that you've been lying all along about giving out the best hugs.

And a bonus math related one:

Your Birthday Today
A simple, nondescript jar of jellybeans will soon expose your shameful inability to reasonably estimate indeterminate quantities.

Se Hable Ingles

So I thought that while I'm laid up for the summer I could learn another languange in my spare time. So I purchased Rosetta Stone Spanish (Spain) Unit 1. And after only an hour with this remarkable program, I feel confident in my ability to go to Spain Right Now and say:

El avion es amarillo (the plane is yellow)

and it's fascinating response:

No, lo es. Es blanch ( No it isn't. It's white)

So bring on your white and yellow planes Spain!! I'm ready!! Also, I went and saw Pirates of the Caribbean 2 and the first half totally reminded me of Monkey Island. Especially the part with the island cannibals and the creepy Jamaican fortune teller in the swamp. I kept expecting them to defeat the evil sea baddies with a jug o'root beer.

Hmmmm, root beer.

She's Back!!

After a minor hiatus, the office ninja is back and proudly states that unlike other mere mortal ninjas who require two legs, she only requires one leg and three awesome roommates to continue in the shadowy arts.

Here are this week's horroscopes:

Your Birthday Today
A huge jerk from the future will journey back hundreds of years just to inform you that none of your actions, neither imminent nor looming, will have the slightest bit of consequence on the Man–Machine War of 2486.

Taurus April 20 - May 20
At this rate, weekly psychiatric sessions will help to cure you of your single-minded materialistic worldview in no time.

Scorpio October 24 - November 21
It is unwise to judge a book by its cover, especially if the cover contains an enthusiastic blurb from the Oklahoma Evening Gazette.

Capricorn December 22 - January 19
While it's easy to get overwhelmed, just remember: The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single plane-ticket reservation.

Best of the Rest:

Virgo August 23 - September 22
After 86 years spent dreading the moment it would occur, your lengthy past will catch up with you this week.

Leo July 23 - August 22
Endless complaints that your talents are being wasted at work will finally pay off when management decides to promote you to the new position of "Head Whiner."

Aquarius January 20 - February 18
To no avail, you will once again pray exactly 223 times for God to heal you of your lifelong obsessive-compulsive disorder.

And my personal favorite of the week:

Libra September 23 - October 23
The stars take great offense at your offhand dismissal of their predictions as "a whole lot of hot air," since they are by definition large celestial bodies composed of masses of gas in which the energy generated by internal nuclear reactions is balanced by the release of heat.

Story: Now with Punks!!

SB grinned as he whipped a remote control from one of the many pockets on his baggy pants. He pressed the button and our heroes were hit with a sudden wave of heavy, moist air. It wrapped around them oppressively, soaking the park and making every breath a harsh, labored exercise.
As the humidity worsened, TA felt her hair twisting medusa like as it tried to free itself from the confines of her ninja cowl. WW regretted her leather statement of patriotism, and DFL briefly considered regretting her choice of white Roman toga before deciding that regret was beneath her.
Only BSA remained unaffected. “Like a little humidity will stop an auditor” she scoffed, “Skaterboy you’re going down!!”
SB ignored her and pressed another button, and the entire park began to shake as the jaded sounds of Strike Anywhere summoned an army from the streets of DC…an army of punks!!
“This song, ‘Riot of Words’ is like totally deep.” SB intoned as the first wave of punks ran past the treasury building and headed straight for DOAC park.
BSA hissed at this flagrant disregard for the glories of capitalism and reached into the inner lining of her suit, and pulled out what looked like a grenade. She pulled the pin and hefted it at the front line where it exploded into reams and reams of ten-key audit tape ,wrapping around the punks and hopelessly entangling them. The tangle got worse as the runners behind slammed into the trapped front lines, and then got even more confusing when the rear guard decided that this was a mosh pit and joined in enthusiastically.
BSA smiled and rubbed her hands in gleeful anticipation. “Lunch!” She crowed as she launched herself into the chaotic horde of punks.
“Oh great, not again!” TA moaned as locks of hair began curling out from under her mask. “Well someone should probably go get her. I nominate you WW.”
“Why me?!!” WW sighed petulantly “I always have to do the rescuing.” Just then a large black and white cow fell out the sky and smashed into the Amazon, driving her into the cement pathway.
“Get out of town!” Yelled DFL, “Since when do cows fall out of the sky!”
“It’s almost like she dared to threaten the powers that be, and now has been punished for her arrogance.” TA looked in awe at the carnage.
“Yeah but a cow?!” DFL pointed out.
“Not just any cow” continued TA, “that’s a Holstein. A breed known for its distinctive color markings and outstanding milk production.”
“Oh. Well that’s appropriate then.” She sighed, “WW’s a strapping young girl I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
“BSA might not be though, it looks like the anarchist sensibilities of the punks is dissolving the audit tape.” TA pointed as the unruly mob once again began lumbering towards the park.
“Man, I HATE when I have to get involved. It’s too much like actual work.” DFL’s rant was cut short as the punks finally reached the park.

So, who’s battle story would you like to hear first?

A: BSA
B: DFL
C: WW
D: TA