Hello readers.
This is just to inform you of a change in schedule. That being the fact that Owen Tucker will be giving you his journal entries twice a week now, both on Monday and Thursday, until further notification (in other words, I don't know when). And this because Mr. Tucker is getting himself into quite the adventure which I had not anticipated, but is turning out to be most exciting. On that note you also might want to check back to the post, The House, as it had a bit of editing done. That would be in the sixth paragraph.
Thank you all for your time, and I hope you enjoy what is to come.
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Journey
Hey guys! Owen Tucker is back. And I do believe that last week I left you guys with something of a cliff hanger. Just a wee bitty one. But big enough that I’m dispensing with this part here and getting right down to the journal thingy!
7/19/12: On this date (that being the 7th of July in the year 2012) I had just gotten into this Asian dude’s car and…wait a second. That happened last week. Uh. Lemme think here. Oh whatever. I think there was kind of time freeze for a whole week in my time, so I stayed in the same spot, same time while a whole week went by for you reader people.
Okay, so, with that out of the way, back to the story.
As soon as I got seated in the car, the Asian dude slammed the gas and shot forward.
“Whoa!” I yelled. “Hold up, man.”
He smashed the brakes just as hard as he had the gas and I nearly got a concussion from the dashboard.
“How can I possibly direct you if you’re going a million miles an hour?” I asked.
He thought for a second, then shrugged. “Real fast?”
I shook my head. “No. You go real slow, and then I can tell you where to go.”
He thought about this for another second, then shook his head. “No got time.”
He hit the gas again and we flew forward, disregarded stop signs, stop lights, and basically the fact that there were other drivers on the road. In fact, I’m pretty sure that we got hit a few times. We were just going so fast that we didn’t feel the effects.
After about five minutes of that, we came to another abrupt halt, and I think I did get a concussion that time.
The dude jumped out, came over to my side, and opened the door. “Come.”
The world was spinning, but somehow I managed to get out of my seat belt and stumbled out of the car. Unfortunately my vision had gone all black and blotchy on me, so I couldn’t tell where we had arrived at. My chauffeur took my arm and led me along to—somewhere.
“Where the heck are we?” I asked after I failed yet another attempt to look around.
“You soon see,” my guide replied.
“Not if my eyes keep going like this,” I mumbled.
“Pst! Boyo!” came a voice with a Scottish accent.
I looked around. “Who dat?”
“What you talking about?” Asian man asked.
I shrugged. “No idea. Everythin’s a bit blurry for me right now. All your fault, by the way. Crazy driver…”
There was a few seconds of silence.
“Hey. Et’s me. Wilfred de Wasper. An’ for goodness sake, doon’t reply oot loud.”
I, however, never follow orders. “Well how else I’m I supposed to reply? Last I checked flies aren’t flippin’ telepaths.”
We stopped moving. I think my companion was staring at me, but I couldn’t be sure because a nice big, black blotch had decided to sit right where his face was supposed to be at that moment.
“You okay?” he asked.
“No, I’m not,” I replied, just a bit peeved. “You fairly cracked my skull open on that last dead stop you pulled, so I am most certainly not okay.”
He tapped me on the head. “That better?”
I was about to come back with my usual smart retort, when, surprisingly, my vision cleared.
“Uh,” was all I could come up with.
The Asian dude, whose face I could now see, smiled. “Good.”
“Ah swear, ef you reply ta this oot loud, Ah’ll bite ya.”
I couldn't help myself. It was just the automatic reaction.
“You’re a fly,” I replied out loud. “Flies don’t bite.”
Something bit me. I’ve been known to be wrong before.
Now the Asian guy, whose name I should really learn if only so that I can call him by something other than his nationality, was staring at me really strangely.
“Who you talking to?” he asked.
“Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhh…” Best stalling tactic ever. “Myself. I do love a good conversation with myself. Don’t you?”
He shook his head slowly, the strange look never leaving his face. “Nnnooo.” He paused for a second. “I prefer talking to myself. Ahahahahahahahahaha!”
I gave a few half-hearted chuckles so that he wouldn’t feel bad and waited for him to stop laughing. It took a bit, apparently he was one of those who thinks himself to be a great comedian, but eventually he stopped.
“Okay,” he said, as he wiped away a few tears. “Now we go.”
“Where are we going?”
“You see.”
I hate that answer.
To be continued…next week!...
7/19/12: On this date (that being the 7th of July in the year 2012) I had just gotten into this Asian dude’s car and…wait a second. That happened last week. Uh. Lemme think here. Oh whatever. I think there was kind of time freeze for a whole week in my time, so I stayed in the same spot, same time while a whole week went by for you reader people.
Okay, so, with that out of the way, back to the story.
As soon as I got seated in the car, the Asian dude slammed the gas and shot forward.
“Whoa!” I yelled. “Hold up, man.”
He smashed the brakes just as hard as he had the gas and I nearly got a concussion from the dashboard.
“How can I possibly direct you if you’re going a million miles an hour?” I asked.
He thought for a second, then shrugged. “Real fast?”
I shook my head. “No. You go real slow, and then I can tell you where to go.”
He thought about this for another second, then shook his head. “No got time.”
He hit the gas again and we flew forward, disregarded stop signs, stop lights, and basically the fact that there were other drivers on the road. In fact, I’m pretty sure that we got hit a few times. We were just going so fast that we didn’t feel the effects.
After about five minutes of that, we came to another abrupt halt, and I think I did get a concussion that time.
The dude jumped out, came over to my side, and opened the door. “Come.”
The world was spinning, but somehow I managed to get out of my seat belt and stumbled out of the car. Unfortunately my vision had gone all black and blotchy on me, so I couldn’t tell where we had arrived at. My chauffeur took my arm and led me along to—somewhere.
“Where the heck are we?” I asked after I failed yet another attempt to look around.
“You soon see,” my guide replied.
“Not if my eyes keep going like this,” I mumbled.
“Pst! Boyo!” came a voice with a Scottish accent.
I looked around. “Who dat?”
“What you talking about?” Asian man asked.
I shrugged. “No idea. Everythin’s a bit blurry for me right now. All your fault, by the way. Crazy driver…”
There was a few seconds of silence.
“Hey. Et’s me. Wilfred de Wasper. An’ for goodness sake, doon’t reply oot loud.”
I, however, never follow orders. “Well how else I’m I supposed to reply? Last I checked flies aren’t flippin’ telepaths.”
We stopped moving. I think my companion was staring at me, but I couldn’t be sure because a nice big, black blotch had decided to sit right where his face was supposed to be at that moment.
“You okay?” he asked.
“No, I’m not,” I replied, just a bit peeved. “You fairly cracked my skull open on that last dead stop you pulled, so I am most certainly not okay.”
He tapped me on the head. “That better?”
I was about to come back with my usual smart retort, when, surprisingly, my vision cleared.
“Uh,” was all I could come up with.
The Asian dude, whose face I could now see, smiled. “Good.”
“Ah swear, ef you reply ta this oot loud, Ah’ll bite ya.”
I couldn't help myself. It was just the automatic reaction.
“You’re a fly,” I replied out loud. “Flies don’t bite.”
Something bit me. I’ve been known to be wrong before.
Now the Asian guy, whose name I should really learn if only so that I can call him by something other than his nationality, was staring at me really strangely.
“Who you talking to?” he asked.
“Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhh…” Best stalling tactic ever. “Myself. I do love a good conversation with myself. Don’t you?”
He shook his head slowly, the strange look never leaving his face. “Nnnooo.” He paused for a second. “I prefer talking to myself. Ahahahahahahahahaha!”
I gave a few half-hearted chuckles so that he wouldn’t feel bad and waited for him to stop laughing. It took a bit, apparently he was one of those who thinks himself to be a great comedian, but eventually he stopped.
“Okay,” he said, as he wiped away a few tears. “Now we go.”
“Where are we going?”
“You see.”
I hate that answer.
To be continued…next week!...
Monday, July 16, 2012
Thursday 'n Friday
Aw yeah! Who else is incredibly excited and pumped for the super awesome thing that’s coming this Thursday? Kewl beans! Me too! And do you know what that is? Well, yeah, there’s Owen Tucker’s adventure, but do you know what other super awesome thing is coming this Thursday? You don’t!? Okay then, I’ll give you some clues. It involves a dude who has this thing for bats (the animal, not the stick), he has a butler named Alfred, and he’s a billionaire. Still can’t guess? Ugh. Fine then. I’ll just tell you.
It’s Batman!
Ooooorah! It’s gonna be epic. Batman’s gonna run around, blowing stuff up and smashing people around. Then he’s gonna get the crap beaten out of him, then he’s gonna beat the crap out of other people, then they’re gonna beat him up even worse, and there’s gonna be all that junk about him being the hero Gotham deserves but not the hero it needs, and then he’s gonna be all like “Because I’m Batman!” and it’s gonna be totally wicked!
Oh, and in case you’re now thinking “Wait, it doesn’t come out till Friday” all I have to say is, midnight showing! IMAX. Mhm, that’s how I roll. Gonna see this thing end in style. It’ll go kablewy and I’ll be like “ooooo”. It’ll go kablam and I’ll be like “aaaaahhhh”. And then when Batman DIES I’ll be like “OHSOB!” This thing is gonna be so epically awesome they’re barely gonna be able to fit it into two and a half hours.
And then, not as awesome but still pretty awesome, there’s gonna be some English country dancing going on Friday night. We gonna be swirlin’ and whirlin’ with the best of ‘em. I’m gonna be all decked out in my florescent orange shorts and a shirt to match. If nothing else it’ll be kinda hard to miss me and completely impossible to ignore me. Oughta be interesting at the least. Maybe they’ll play that song “Somebody That I Used to Know”. Haha! That’d be awesome. I’ve recently gotten addicted to that song and as a result the rest of my family hates it. I don’t really know why. I mean, all I do is sing the thing in my fine tenor voice at all times of the days. It’s like they’re getting a free concert or something, yet all they can say is “shut up!” or rather, the equivalent, just nicer. Because we all love each other so much in this family. It’s just a never ending lovefest.
Oh wow. I just realized how much I used “gonna” in the above paragraphs. About fifty million times. I should probably be more careful with my usage of that word. Don’t worry though, I gonna be.
Well now you’re all nice and up-to-date on what’s going on in my life. Don’t you feel better for it? I know I do. The end of this week is going to be amazing. And I hope that you, my good reader, have just as good of one.
It’s Batman!
Ooooorah! It’s gonna be epic. Batman’s gonna run around, blowing stuff up and smashing people around. Then he’s gonna get the crap beaten out of him, then he’s gonna beat the crap out of other people, then they’re gonna beat him up even worse, and there’s gonna be all that junk about him being the hero Gotham deserves but not the hero it needs, and then he’s gonna be all like “Because I’m Batman!” and it’s gonna be totally wicked!
Oh, and in case you’re now thinking “Wait, it doesn’t come out till Friday” all I have to say is, midnight showing! IMAX. Mhm, that’s how I roll. Gonna see this thing end in style. It’ll go kablewy and I’ll be like “ooooo”. It’ll go kablam and I’ll be like “aaaaahhhh”. And then when Batman DIES I’ll be like “OHSOB!” This thing is gonna be so epically awesome they’re barely gonna be able to fit it into two and a half hours.
And then, not as awesome but still pretty awesome, there’s gonna be some English country dancing going on Friday night. We gonna be swirlin’ and whirlin’ with the best of ‘em. I’m gonna be all decked out in my florescent orange shorts and a shirt to match. If nothing else it’ll be kinda hard to miss me and completely impossible to ignore me. Oughta be interesting at the least. Maybe they’ll play that song “Somebody That I Used to Know”. Haha! That’d be awesome. I’ve recently gotten addicted to that song and as a result the rest of my family hates it. I don’t really know why. I mean, all I do is sing the thing in my fine tenor voice at all times of the days. It’s like they’re getting a free concert or something, yet all they can say is “shut up!” or rather, the equivalent, just nicer. Because we all love each other so much in this family. It’s just a never ending lovefest.
Oh wow. I just realized how much I used “gonna” in the above paragraphs. About fifty million times. I should probably be more careful with my usage of that word. Don’t worry though, I gonna be.
Well now you’re all nice and up-to-date on what’s going on in my life. Don’t you feel better for it? I know I do. The end of this week is going to be amazing. And I hope that you, my good reader, have just as good of one.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
10903 Belton
Hey guys, I’m back. And if you don’t know who “I” am by now, well it’s rather pointless to tell you. So guess what? This time, I’m not going to tell you. I know, shocking, isn’t it? Me, Owen Tucker, not telling you…oh…oops…
Uh, in light of this most embarrassing moment, let us go straight to the journal thingy, eh?
7/12/12: On this date (that being the 7th of July in the year 2012) I was hanging out in my front yard doing the usual. Y’know, talking with the bugs and stuff. I had just convinced one group of ants to go to war with another group of ants at the other end of the yard and was now sitting back to enjoy the show. Wilfred had just gotten back from whatever it was that he was doing last time and he was buzzing around yelling at me and the ants. However both parties ignored him.
Now watching ants travel from one end of a yard to the other is a very tedious process, so I can’t say that I was annoyed in any way when a black, rather dusty car pulled up in front of my house and distracted me. The front window of the car rolled down, revealing the driver to be a little Asian man with a moustache and graying hair.
“Excuse me,” he said, motioning for me to come over, his Asian accent evident in even that small sentence.
“Yeah?” I asked as I approached, a bit cautiously considering he was a stranger and all.
He waved a piece of paper at me. “Could you tell me how get here?”
I glanced at the piece of paper. 10904 Belton. I thought for a second, then frowned. The address seemed familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
“Hang on a sec,” I said. “I’m gonna do a quick search.”
He nodded and smiled, so I pulled out my iPhone and put in the address. When the search finished, my suspicions were confirmed. It was indeed the address of my castle-house HQ! What could this guy want with it?
The guy spoke up. “You find?”
“Hm?” I look up from my phone. “Oh, uh, yeah. But it’s pretty far from here, and the route is pretty complicated.”
He nodded and grinned. “You explain to me, please?”
I shrugged. “Okay then. First, you’re going to take a right up ahead there, onto Majestic. Once you’ve done that, you’ll stay on that road for about five miles, at which point you’ll need to take a left onto Harrison. That road will take you for about a mile until it turns into Old Cain. You’re going to turn right onto Old Cain, and then directly after that there’s gonna be another right which will take you to Westminster. You’ll keep going on that road for, say, ten minutes, when you’re going to take a left onto 1660, which you will then follow until you come to Josh Camlin. Once you’re on Josh, you’re gonna need to take the first left, then the third right, then the second right, then the fourth left, then the first left, and finally the fifth right and 10904 Belton is gonna be the sixth house on the left.”
After about the first two streets the man was looking very confused. By the time I finished, he had a completely blank look on his face.
“Ah.” He looked like he was thinking pretty hard. Then he threw up his hands. “I no find it.” He gestured to the back of his car. “You get in? Show me how to get there?”
I laughed, somewhat skeptically. “You want me to get into your car? To show you this place?”
He nodded.
“How would I get back?”
“I bring you. Once you show me, I remember.”
I glanced at the car. The dusty exterior was deceiving; it was actually a pretty sweet looking car.
I gave in. “Oh okay. But I’ll only go if you let me ride shotgun.”
He grinned. “Good!” With a click he unlocked the doors. “Come come.”
I shrugged and walked around and hopped in. What is life without some spice? The ants would have to negotiate their own peace treaty.
To be continued…most definitely, I wouldn’t leave you hanging like that, for long anyway…
Uh, in light of this most embarrassing moment, let us go straight to the journal thingy, eh?
7/12/12: On this date (that being the 7th of July in the year 2012) I was hanging out in my front yard doing the usual. Y’know, talking with the bugs and stuff. I had just convinced one group of ants to go to war with another group of ants at the other end of the yard and was now sitting back to enjoy the show. Wilfred had just gotten back from whatever it was that he was doing last time and he was buzzing around yelling at me and the ants. However both parties ignored him.
Now watching ants travel from one end of a yard to the other is a very tedious process, so I can’t say that I was annoyed in any way when a black, rather dusty car pulled up in front of my house and distracted me. The front window of the car rolled down, revealing the driver to be a little Asian man with a moustache and graying hair.
“Excuse me,” he said, motioning for me to come over, his Asian accent evident in even that small sentence.
“Yeah?” I asked as I approached, a bit cautiously considering he was a stranger and all.
He waved a piece of paper at me. “Could you tell me how get here?”
I glanced at the piece of paper. 10904 Belton. I thought for a second, then frowned. The address seemed familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
“Hang on a sec,” I said. “I’m gonna do a quick search.”
He nodded and smiled, so I pulled out my iPhone and put in the address. When the search finished, my suspicions were confirmed. It was indeed the address of my castle-house HQ! What could this guy want with it?
The guy spoke up. “You find?”
“Hm?” I look up from my phone. “Oh, uh, yeah. But it’s pretty far from here, and the route is pretty complicated.”
He nodded and grinned. “You explain to me, please?”
I shrugged. “Okay then. First, you’re going to take a right up ahead there, onto Majestic. Once you’ve done that, you’ll stay on that road for about five miles, at which point you’ll need to take a left onto Harrison. That road will take you for about a mile until it turns into Old Cain. You’re going to turn right onto Old Cain, and then directly after that there’s gonna be another right which will take you to Westminster. You’ll keep going on that road for, say, ten minutes, when you’re going to take a left onto 1660, which you will then follow until you come to Josh Camlin. Once you’re on Josh, you’re gonna need to take the first left, then the third right, then the second right, then the fourth left, then the first left, and finally the fifth right and 10904 Belton is gonna be the sixth house on the left.”
After about the first two streets the man was looking very confused. By the time I finished, he had a completely blank look on his face.
“Ah.” He looked like he was thinking pretty hard. Then he threw up his hands. “I no find it.” He gestured to the back of his car. “You get in? Show me how to get there?”
I laughed, somewhat skeptically. “You want me to get into your car? To show you this place?”
He nodded.
“How would I get back?”
“I bring you. Once you show me, I remember.”
I glanced at the car. The dusty exterior was deceiving; it was actually a pretty sweet looking car.
I gave in. “Oh okay. But I’ll only go if you let me ride shotgun.”
He grinned. “Good!” With a click he unlocked the doors. “Come come.”
I shrugged and walked around and hopped in. What is life without some spice? The ants would have to negotiate their own peace treaty.
To be continued…most definitely, I wouldn’t leave you hanging like that, for long anyway…
Monday, July 9, 2012
Blurp
So there was this group of people, and this random topic, and then this one writer dude. But that one writer dude just can’t seem to get together with the random topic in order to entertain the group of people. He tries and tries, but that darn topic just doesn’t seem to want to cooperate, which would no doubt cause the group of people a great deal of sadness.
This, obviously, is NOT an analogy of my writing process for you on Mondays. In no way is that anything like it. I, of course, have absolutely no trouble writing up these blurps of randomness. Hehe, cool, new word. Blurp. I should copy write that before someone steals it. Ahem, anyway. These little blurps (hehe) just come up to me during the week, tap me on the shoulder, and practically write themselves out. All I have to do is hit the keys on the board. Quite simple and very easy. Isn’t it awesome? I’ll bet you thought that first paragraph was what I actually did. Eheh…
Anyhows, blurpiness. It’s kinda like a blurp, except nessly. And if you don’t know what that means, man, you’re hopeless. If you don’t know, you should probably stop reading now because I’m just going to continue discussing how dismal your future is looking. And it’s pretty dismal. Like, really super dismal. It’s bad, let me just leave it at that. Or really really bad, that works too. World apocalypse style bad. But don’t listen to me. Listen to the colleges (if you’re a teenager) that are trying to get you to attend them. If you go there, you’re future will be bright and sunny, you’ll have lots of friends, and the whole world will be your doorstep! Or not. It could be like one big rainstorm on your dreams! If you listen to me that is.
Oh, I seem to have gotten a little sidetracked. What was I talking about again? Oh yes, blurps! Blurps are awesome. So is blurpiness. If you’re full of blurpiness, you are one awesome person. If you’re studying blurptology, you are going to go far in this life. In fact, if you have blurps in any part of your life, you’re just plain cool. Because blurps are beyond awesome, now that I think about it. They’re just so brilliantly amazing. Pretty soon, the word “awesome” will become obsolete. People will go around saying stuff like “Dude! That’s so blurp!”, “That movie was blurply epic”, and “You are the most blurp person ever!” just because they can (and because blurp is amazing). So spread the blurp. It’s worth it.
Huh? What does blurp mean? Didn’t I tell you that already? Oh…I didn’t? Snap…guess I should’ve done that first. Well, uh, blurp means, erm, blurp! It’s got blurpiness written all over it. It’s like one of those words where you don’t really know what it means, but you know exactly how it should be used, y’know? Which just makes it all the better.
Blurp forever!
This, obviously, is NOT an analogy of my writing process for you on Mondays. In no way is that anything like it. I, of course, have absolutely no trouble writing up these blurps of randomness. Hehe, cool, new word. Blurp. I should copy write that before someone steals it. Ahem, anyway. These little blurps (hehe) just come up to me during the week, tap me on the shoulder, and practically write themselves out. All I have to do is hit the keys on the board. Quite simple and very easy. Isn’t it awesome? I’ll bet you thought that first paragraph was what I actually did. Eheh…
Anyhows, blurpiness. It’s kinda like a blurp, except nessly. And if you don’t know what that means, man, you’re hopeless. If you don’t know, you should probably stop reading now because I’m just going to continue discussing how dismal your future is looking. And it’s pretty dismal. Like, really super dismal. It’s bad, let me just leave it at that. Or really really bad, that works too. World apocalypse style bad. But don’t listen to me. Listen to the colleges (if you’re a teenager) that are trying to get you to attend them. If you go there, you’re future will be bright and sunny, you’ll have lots of friends, and the whole world will be your doorstep! Or not. It could be like one big rainstorm on your dreams! If you listen to me that is.
Oh, I seem to have gotten a little sidetracked. What was I talking about again? Oh yes, blurps! Blurps are awesome. So is blurpiness. If you’re full of blurpiness, you are one awesome person. If you’re studying blurptology, you are going to go far in this life. In fact, if you have blurps in any part of your life, you’re just plain cool. Because blurps are beyond awesome, now that I think about it. They’re just so brilliantly amazing. Pretty soon, the word “awesome” will become obsolete. People will go around saying stuff like “Dude! That’s so blurp!”, “That movie was blurply epic”, and “You are the most blurp person ever!” just because they can (and because blurp is amazing). So spread the blurp. It’s worth it.
Huh? What does blurp mean? Didn’t I tell you that already? Oh…I didn’t? Snap…guess I should’ve done that first. Well, uh, blurp means, erm, blurp! It’s got blurpiness written all over it. It’s like one of those words where you don’t really know what it means, but you know exactly how it should be used, y’know? Which just makes it all the better.
Blurp forever!
Thursday, July 5, 2012
The House
Yo. I, the one called Owen Tucker, have returned. Because it’s Thursday, and I’m always here on Thursday. Don’t believe, check back. Just, not too far. I wasn’t always here, now that I think about it. There was this other guy, named Fred, who was here on Thursdays for a while. But he wasn’t near as awesome as I am. I mean, just look at our names. Fred. Owen Tucker. I think we can all see who’s got this (and that’s me, in case you can’t see).
Yesterday was the 4th of July, if you didn’t know. We had fireworks and explosions and boomy thingies. Wilfred nearly got shot, slapped, and all around killed several times. With his accent he sounds real funny when he gets mad. But he also gets a bit colorful, so I can’t give you an example of what he says.
Anyway, journal thingy time!
7/5/2012: On this date (that being the 7th of July in the year 2012) Wilfred was off someplace recovering from his ordeal, leaving me alone to amuse myself. I was bored. Out of desperation I shot of a few remaining firecrackers. Then I stared at the remainders. And stared at ‘em. And stared at ‘em some more. It was really quite fascinating. If you want to be bored. Which, unfortunately for me, I didn’t. So I had to find something else to do.
Like the ever resourceful guy I am, I decided to take a walk. I walked down one street, and up another street. There was a twig on one of these streets, but I ignored it. The last one I picked up was nothing but a dud, so there was no way I was falling for that again. Now a special type of woodchip, that might’ve been able to get my attention, but I didn’t see any of those.
I walked down a few more streets, but I was in the boring part of the neighborhood where everything looked the same because, well, everything was the same. One of those modern neighborhoods where pretty much every house looks just like the other one. So I found me a street to turn down that would take me to a more classical neighborhood. A more stylish place. With grown trees, nice lawns, and flowers and stuff like that there.
As I was walking through this cool new neighborhood, I spotted one of those long, winding, gravel driveways. Y’know, the ones that go so far back you can’t even see the house. Now I didn’t really feel like deviating from my path, so I just keep walking. But then this squirrel darted out of nowhere and started hopping down the driveway. That in itself wasn’t really unusual and didn’t capture any interest, until the little bugger started squeaking some real insulting things. And if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s being insulted by a squirrel, so I chased it down the driveway. The little bugger was speedy though. It kept ahead of me for at least ten minutes. On and on till I had left all the other houses in the neighborhood in the far distance. Then I turned a corner and came to the end of the driveway and the squirrel disappeared.
There, right in front of me, was a big ol’ castle-looking house. I gaped at it a while, taking in the stone walls, medieval architecture and all that good junk, then I also noticed there were no cars, and the place was all overgrown with weeds. I went up to the front door and knocked. There was no answer. I knocked again. Still no answer. A bit hesitantly, I turned the door handle. It opened with a creak, but besides that, quite easily. Inside it was mainly empty, just a few pieces of really old looking furniture and a lot of dust.
“Hello?” I called out.
There was no answer.
I grinned. I had just found me an abandoned castle-house HQ!
To be continued…hopefully…
(From MichaeL Lostritto: My apologies for the lateness of this post. I will try to keep it from happening again)
Yesterday was the 4th of July, if you didn’t know. We had fireworks and explosions and boomy thingies. Wilfred nearly got shot, slapped, and all around killed several times. With his accent he sounds real funny when he gets mad. But he also gets a bit colorful, so I can’t give you an example of what he says.
Anyway, journal thingy time!
7/5/2012: On this date (that being the 7th of July in the year 2012) Wilfred was off someplace recovering from his ordeal, leaving me alone to amuse myself. I was bored. Out of desperation I shot of a few remaining firecrackers. Then I stared at the remainders. And stared at ‘em. And stared at ‘em some more. It was really quite fascinating. If you want to be bored. Which, unfortunately for me, I didn’t. So I had to find something else to do.
Like the ever resourceful guy I am, I decided to take a walk. I walked down one street, and up another street. There was a twig on one of these streets, but I ignored it. The last one I picked up was nothing but a dud, so there was no way I was falling for that again. Now a special type of woodchip, that might’ve been able to get my attention, but I didn’t see any of those.
I walked down a few more streets, but I was in the boring part of the neighborhood where everything looked the same because, well, everything was the same. One of those modern neighborhoods where pretty much every house looks just like the other one. So I found me a street to turn down that would take me to a more classical neighborhood. A more stylish place. With grown trees, nice lawns, and flowers and stuff like that there.
As I was walking through this cool new neighborhood, I spotted one of those long, winding, gravel driveways. Y’know, the ones that go so far back you can’t even see the house. Now I didn’t really feel like deviating from my path, so I just keep walking. But then this squirrel darted out of nowhere and started hopping down the driveway. That in itself wasn’t really unusual and didn’t capture any interest, until the little bugger started squeaking some real insulting things. And if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s being insulted by a squirrel, so I chased it down the driveway. The little bugger was speedy though. It kept ahead of me for at least ten minutes. On and on till I had left all the other houses in the neighborhood in the far distance. Then I turned a corner and came to the end of the driveway and the squirrel disappeared.
There, right in front of me, was a big ol’ castle-looking house. I gaped at it a while, taking in the stone walls, medieval architecture and all that good junk, then I also noticed there were no cars, and the place was all overgrown with weeds. I went up to the front door and knocked. There was no answer. I knocked again. Still no answer. A bit hesitantly, I turned the door handle. It opened with a creak, but besides that, quite easily. Inside it was mainly empty, just a few pieces of really old looking furniture and a lot of dust.
“Hello?” I called out.
There was no answer.
I grinned. I had just found me an abandoned castle-house HQ!
To be continued…hopefully…
(From MichaeL Lostritto: My apologies for the lateness of this post. I will try to keep it from happening again)
Monday, July 2, 2012
Hitler
Whoa! Cool! Did you know that in 1999 some weird scientist dudes cloned Hitler’s bones and created an army of bone Hitlers? Who knew, right? The government did this huge cover-up and nobody was ever the wiser. Till now of course. Now I’m telling you, so you know, and you can tell your friends, so they know, then they can tell their friends so those people know, and it just goes on until the whole world knows. Then everyone will be out Hitler hunting. They might even make it a national holiday that develops into a worldwide event that eventually becomes the biggest holiday of the year! It’ll spawn a mass of video games, movies, books, even children toys. Hitler’s bones will become way better known then he ever was throughout his entire life.
Okay, so you’re probably wondering where that whole thing in the above paragraph came from. Well, I couldn’t tell you if you asked. My thought process went something like this.
“Hhhhmmm…1999…clones…Hitler…bones…cool.”
So yeah, that’s how my mind works. I should actually read up on Hitler so that I can more effectively make fun of him. It’s so much fun. I do love a good Hitler/Nazi joke. One time I went around the house clicking my heels together and shouting “Hi Hitler!” Don’t think my parents appreciated that. But it was fun while it lasted.
Hm. Maybe my current interest in Hitler comes from the nearing of July 4th. At the approach of that great day of independence, my mind, being the way it is, thinks of Hitler. It’s a blessing, and a curse. My mind that is.
Getting back to Hitler, I hear that in the end, he killed himself. But, of course, you know that’s not what really happened, right? It’s common knowledge that the aliens abducted him, made sure he was completely crazy, then sent him as a gift to their biggest enemy. Which resulted in a huge alien war, the repercussions we are experiencing through the refugees (Obama, Lady Gaga, those kind of people). So if them darned aliens would just keep their business to themselves, we wouldn’t have all these problems. Geez.
Before the aliens got him though, Hitler was known to create a genetically altered race of Nazis that he sent out to infiltrate the American society. They came among us under the guise of immigrants and ingrained themselves into our culture. Now they lurk behind every corner, hide under every rock. They observe everything that’s anything on the internet, and everything else besides that too. They watch your mail, read your strike signs, check your checks. And if they find anything, they scream bloody murder and fix it, even if you don’t ask them to. In fact, probably because you don’t ask them to. Then they yell at you and tell you to watch yourself or they’ll come for you again. Generally at some point during the discourse they also make very sure that you know exactly who they are. Who might that be?
They are the Grammar Nazis.
Okay, so you’re probably wondering where that whole thing in the above paragraph came from. Well, I couldn’t tell you if you asked. My thought process went something like this.
“Hhhhmmm…1999…clones…Hitler…bones…cool.”
So yeah, that’s how my mind works. I should actually read up on Hitler so that I can more effectively make fun of him. It’s so much fun. I do love a good Hitler/Nazi joke. One time I went around the house clicking my heels together and shouting “Hi Hitler!” Don’t think my parents appreciated that. But it was fun while it lasted.
Hm. Maybe my current interest in Hitler comes from the nearing of July 4th. At the approach of that great day of independence, my mind, being the way it is, thinks of Hitler. It’s a blessing, and a curse. My mind that is.
Getting back to Hitler, I hear that in the end, he killed himself. But, of course, you know that’s not what really happened, right? It’s common knowledge that the aliens abducted him, made sure he was completely crazy, then sent him as a gift to their biggest enemy. Which resulted in a huge alien war, the repercussions we are experiencing through the refugees (Obama, Lady Gaga, those kind of people). So if them darned aliens would just keep their business to themselves, we wouldn’t have all these problems. Geez.
Before the aliens got him though, Hitler was known to create a genetically altered race of Nazis that he sent out to infiltrate the American society. They came among us under the guise of immigrants and ingrained themselves into our culture. Now they lurk behind every corner, hide under every rock. They observe everything that’s anything on the internet, and everything else besides that too. They watch your mail, read your strike signs, check your checks. And if they find anything, they scream bloody murder and fix it, even if you don’t ask them to. In fact, probably because you don’t ask them to. Then they yell at you and tell you to watch yourself or they’ll come for you again. Generally at some point during the discourse they also make very sure that you know exactly who they are. Who might that be?
They are the Grammar Nazis.
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