27 July 2009

Ennui strikes again.

Should I get some pink bows for my hair?

Shawday is pressuring me into reading the Twilight series, a story of a girl and a vampire.

I have heard nothing good about the book or the movies except from wistful girls who daydream about being married and 'taming the savage beast'.
Those who are actually down to earth say that it is a poorly written story that is Aimed at that particular audience.
To quote Aaron's Oxymoron: "The author repeats himself in a variety of ways."
His primary example was at the event of when the female protagonist (I've been lead to beleive she is a protagonist) looks at the character "Edward Cullen", she is taken aback from his beauty.
Every.  Time.
Always something different as well.  "My heart stopped a moment when I gazed upon his bulging eyebrow".  "Birds sang as I stared into his perfectly rounded nostrils".
It's like hearing a corny romance novel, except that 'delicate flower' is probably just his left ear.

However, this surprised me when Shawday told me to begin reading these poorly written novels.
She is very down to earth and far from the target audience I mentioned above.
In her words: "They're so badly written that it's good. Ultimate love story.  Made me depressed."
My return was: "That's what i heard. And I refuse to defile my eyes like that when there's perfectly good knives to stab them with. Not to mention the lemons."
Her laughter was a good sign to show that she didn't take it seriously.  "But seriously. read them."

I submitted to her will (Girls: what can you do?) and said I would read the books to sate her gushing.
The only benefit I can see out of this is that I will be able to generate an unbiased opinion.  Heck, maybe even a good opinion of it.
I have doubt for the latter, as this certainly is not my genre of reading, but you never know.

While on the subject of being opinionated about books, I've recently been reading through the Starcraft Novels.  So far, I've completed "Wings of Liberty" and am currently halfway through "Shadow of the Xel'naga".
They're not bad books.  Some parts could certainly be improved.  There are a few insubstantial descriptions for key characters; and where there are descriptions, some of them are inappropriate for the actual scene.
Overall it's a read for Starcraft Fans, or someone who is looking into Starcraft.

That's about all I can say for now.  I've still got another book and a half to read.

26 July 2009


This weekend was not very interesting. Friday night, my roommates left for the Gold Coast for the night and I was left at home alone.
Luckily, I already had plans to see Dee for some catching up.
Alas, fate prevents us from conversing in person as work kept her back until late, leaving me to download the Cowboy Bebop Soundtracks to listen at my leisure. I ended up spending most of my time ordering up pizza and playing Doom, before retiring.

The Saturday morning, I awoke at seven in the morning and refused to escape the circus tent of blankets that enveloped me until the weather was warmer.
So I spent my time on facebook through my phone, a ritual that I should really break the habit of since I continue to check it more often than I really should since nobody really updates as often as I check.

Eventually I rose from my grave and shambled to the loungeroom for some personal work. With superglue and bourbon in hand, I worked my magic and assembled the remaining pieces of my Hordes figures while the sounds of Cowboy Bebop played in the background.

Unfortunately I slipped into the kiddy pool of despression between basing and sealing my models, and wrote something rather incoherent and rageful whilst under the influence so I won't put it up here.

The Saturday afternoon and night was spent playing Kingdom Hearts 2 and conversing with Train-girl, a fellow fan.
Ah, Kingdom Hearts. The greatest cross-over fanfiction that ever came to be. Crossing the fantastic Disney Classic animated movies that I grew up on and dashed with characters from Final fantasy, while based around a particular set of unrelated characters and their adventures, it really is a fanfic without the gratuitous homosexuality.
Although, Sora has always had a questionable desire for finding Riku...
At least it's not Aladdin and Genie making out in the middle of a desert with a camel watching them...
Either way, I played it until about 3 in the morning which was a bad Idea because I was seeing mum at 9 in the morning tomorrow.

Sunday was topped off with a visit to mother and a surprise appearance of my little sister!
The usual ritual with my mother of a fortnight is to go see a movie and hang out in the shopping centre for a bit before returning to her home for some relaxation (To which I usually end up having a nap on the couch and waking with a headache because the couch strains my neck).

This week, we went and saw "Harry Potter the Half-Blood Prince".
Honestly, my opinion was that it was all a big lead up to the "Snape Kills Dumbledore". It was entertaining for what it was worth.
Mind you, the cast gets older and cuter.

The night ended at my eldest sisters place. Today is my Nieces birthday, and due to nobody being there for her birthday due to work, everyone turned up sunday night to celebrate over Sausages and rolls, along with a "my little pony" cake made by my older sister.

All in all, it was a good weekend. I got something accomplished and saw family.

23 July 2009

Project MK-ULTRA

Experimented in the 1950's, a hapless citizen has been placed in a secret government experiment of Mind Control and Brainwashing.  Nazi and American Scientists with torture theatres and interrogation chambers conducted their experiments on the hapless citizen.

A new drug is created, suspected to give remote control of the subject.  Without properly suspecting the ending effect, the subject was given the drug.
In turn, the subject became telepathic and telekinetic.  After years of brainwashing and torture, he turns on his captors by killing them in a variety of ways, giving a taste of their own experiments and giving himself a new motive to kill and bring down the CIA and it's experiments.

Improvising on stealth tactics and developing his telepathic abilities to escape the dungeon of the last so many years of his life, he dig deeper into the inhumaine experiments that the CIA have been conducting for so long and discovering what has transcended since he has been incarcerated.

I'm liking this idea

22 July 2009

"Somewhere, over the rainbow"

The local weather has been distasteful.
Of a morning, the chill will bite at your ankles and scratch away at your arms. To save yourself, you rug up in your best coat and hope for the best as you stand in the sun awaiting your morning train. To counter, the weather plans ahead with an overcast.
Then you realise you forgot your beanie, so the hair you do have is far from enough to keep your ears toasty because you've had a fight with a ceiling fan and thought headbutting it was a good idea. Bets were made and you lost the dodgy mullet that was cultivating your scalp, leaving your head as clean as a freshly mowed lawn.
Arriving at work, you find the clouds have parted and has begun warming the hearts and souls of every tradie working on the roads, footpaths and train station stairs across town.
You can see the rays dancing seductively outside from the corner of your eyes through the garage and past your employers freshly purchased Chrysler, the light tantelizing you with offers of warmth and comfort while secretly conversing with the winds on how you will suffer when you do accept the offer of pleasure, suggesting blistering gales that tear back your clothes and start with the anklebiting and arm clawing again.

But resisting the urge to bath in a translucent blanket, you find yourself questioning your place in the world finding that what you want to do is within your grasp but you lack the pep to really get yourself to reach for it and grab the throbbing offer.
Could be a lack of masculinity?
Could be a complete lack of motivation?

Then you get distracted. You search for an appropriate picture to link the word "Motivation" and find a match for a rather attractive young lady. You follow the link and find something epic that isn't Tits.

I am an old fan of Sonic the Hedgehog, so I'm sold on this like a Hooker at the Red Light District.
Since I've derailed enough, much like the Brisbane Train Systems, I'm going to leave this where it is.

And then you listen to them. Truly, this is a sad day for me. I downloaded music with enough screaming guitar to put a Banshee out of its job of prophesizing the death of a loved one.

If you tilt your head to the left...

... and squint a little, you'll see the true image of "Official Government of Commerce".

Full story

19 July 2009

"He's an Ideas man"

Brimming with ideas, I am.
Brimming I say, like a pot on boil with too much broil.

Over the past... year?... I have made up Iron Kingdoms Diorama ideas.
A few people know about this, as I posted one up on Defiant Gaming not too long ago.
But wait. THERE'S MORE!
So I've posted them up on the net.

I was bored, okay?

One of my favourites is one I thought up for Spenny for his Heartkids events: Mammoth.
The figure is Beast-09, but with a Marauders head and weapons, standing in the gateway of an Orphanage, a stone Archway overgrown with vines, defending them from Tharn Ravagers, whom eat hearts.
I thought it was a little clever. Too bad I don't have the motivation (money or ability) to go through with it.

Another of my favourites is The Arcade, which is segregated into three parts (four as soon as I think of what to put in the fourth section).
The first is a Shooting gallery where some of the characters from Iron Kingdoms that use firearms as a preferred weapon are testing their skills on Spin offs of actual games, such as House of the Mechanithralls (House of the Dead).
The scenes in front of them are actually constructed from other IK figures.

The second scene is a Skirmish map.
You know Skirmish, with the paintballs that leave welts on your body large enough to convince people you have cancer.
That. So far, I have Trenchers and Dawnguard. Their melee weapons would be painted like Nerf Bats, because lets face it: People wouldn't be allowed into Skirmish with a sharpened blade. Nerf solves everything.

The third is a little uninspired. It's the "Managers office".
It's just the Butcher of Khardov, with Lola removed (Lola is his weapon), attacking a punching clown, in the midst of a messy room.
Uninspired, but still a little funny.

Other ideas that I've fiddled around with in my head is a Starcraft/Warcraft custom campaign story.
I have no idea what story I would do, but the desire is there!

A while ago, I wanted to do a webcomic.
That's right, a webcomic.
I have poor drawing skills however, which in my opinion is a rather large obstacle.

The comic would be a gaming comic, basing a few characters 'Role Playing' in different gaming settings.
The first story would be based on a D&D Campaign idea I have based on Wonder Boy.
The first arc would be Wonderboy in Monster Land, a classic tale of a boy destined to defeat the evil dragon.
The second arc would be Wonder boy III, the Dragons trap. The sequel and continuation to Wonderboy in Monster Land, where after defeating the Dragon, he finds that there is more to the incideous plot and continues his adventures to remove the curse that the Dragon has placed on him.
The third arc is not related to the Wonder Boy games, though. No, the third arc would be based on Ghouls and Ghosts, originally a story of a Knight names Arthur who saves the princess from the god Loki who is sending the world into an Apocalypse.

Since there are more than one character 'Role Playing', there are some slight variations (Such as more than one Wonder Boy). And instead of having to fight the Trickster God, Loki, I thought to have the party fight Tiamat instead. Since they will be fighting dragons through the whole thing, why not fight the Five Headed God of Dragons to finish off the story?
I thought it was a cool idea.
Just having a bit of trouble figuring out what to change the players races to in the WBIII set.

If there's one thing I've learnt as well about D&D is that you can make it "Episodic", something I learnt from Rob. Episodic makes it interesting between levels. You can have one session, with three encounters and role play between, and you would have a good session.

Changing subject entirely I move onto Monsterpocalypse, a game based on Gigantic Monsters rampaging through a city to defeat their opponent/s.
The game has been around for approx 8 months now (maybe 9) and has had 3 Series: "Rise", "I Chomp NY", and "All Your Base".
The current series, "All Your Base", has taken a different spin on monsters by creating "Morphers": Units that transform into a Monster. For those who don't quite understand, think "Voltron". Or "Devastator" from Transformers.

So as per my own tradition I have my Series 3 Monster to represent my faction through this series.
First season, I swapped between Yasheth and Cthugrosh. Yasheth was the biggest fear because he regained health up the wazoo so he was rather tough to kill.
Second season, I discovered I didn't like Mogroth. So I played Ulgoth for the whole season. Turns out Ulgoth is ridiculously difficult to play against for most monsters as he 'explodes' every time you attack him, and if you're standing next to Ulgoth when he 'explodes' then you suffer damage. Also, his Ultra version deals additional damage on his normal attacks. To top it all off he couldn't be 'Thrown', one of the more common power attacks in the game.
Because he was so brutal I won his Mega form which I play to this day as he is not as brutal as his Ultra version.
Season Three, I field Osheroth, the first Morpher monster of the Faction. Four tentacles, burst through the ground to tear apart and manipulate their enemies in a small variety of ways.

The Morphers are an interesting concept. They work a lot like Units, however are very dangerous.
Osheroth's tentacles (yes, four tentacles with different painted tips) aren't the most threatening in the game. They have the same stat line, have average health, and have mostly the same abilities each.
Their differences lie in their melee attacks.
The two most dangerous are those with Beat-back and Vampirism. The other two are there for combining attacks and summoning.
The Summoner remains behind, helping with securing buildings and increasing your units on the field.
The Vampire and Beat-backer charge up the front to either deal damage to the monster, or steal back hit points lost. The last guy, who has Fling and Telekinesis, goes where he wants. I find myself securing buildings, most of the time.
A trick I pulled out on The Dick yesterday was one pulled on me not long ago. When you power up and go into your ultra form, you place your ultra overlapping a space one of your morphers were occupying. You then move using one action dice.
When you're in a profitable position, you power down into your Morphers Form using the same spaces that your ultra form occupied.
Aside from the similarity of matching abilities, the morphers each have a Red ability allowing figures adjacent to them gain that ability as well.
So all four have Telekinesis, Siphon, Penetrator and Hit-and-Run. The only two that really matter are Siphon (Steal a Power dice from them) and Penetrator (Lowers their DEF stat). Use summon to bring in a Cthulubite, a new unit that also lowers opponents DEF stat, and then brawl away at them against their DEF-2.
Most monsters come down to about DEF 4 or 5, easy enough for 2 combined attacks to really put the hurt on. Heck, if you're lucky enough to get a Corruptor in there with flank (Another -1 DEF to the enemy) then you can easily make 4 attacks against the monster for a MASSIVE amount of damage.
Back to the original setup: One combined attack to steal back health, siphoning Power dice at the same time, and the other combined attack to throw them into a nearby building, siphoning more Power dice.
Four damage, right there, if you consider the hazard available as well.
This was possible because the Powerup on my monster is Cheap. Probably too cheap. The only thing that Osheroth really has going for him is Annihilate and Radial attack. Sacrifice is a nifty ability if you have units to spare, and Global Telekinesis adds options to your units that you didn't have before unless you fielded taskmasters in your force. Frankly, I rarely have a taskmaster on the field as they are too expensive and hardly worth the effort, and when I do I put their shadow incarnations on at a discounted cost (Summon at 1A-die or a dying Meat Slave at 0A-die, compared to 3A-die) only to act as a distraction.
So with a ultra so cheap I feel a little overpowered since my morphers are really quite powerful, and when I lose my morphers I have an ultra that can clean up what's left.

What should I be afraid of?
Monsters with immunity to buildings or super damage.
Or maybe martians with enough Nuclear hazards around the field. A good example of this is Tharsis-5. He doesn't have Immunity to Super Damage, but he does have immunity to buildings, so hitting him into a building is not going to do much damage unless it is a fire hazard that he can land in.
Monsters with beat-back. This is actually something ALL morphers should be worried about. If you have a morpher aligned with another one of your morphers, they will suffer 3 points of damage from a single beat-back attack (one for the attack and 1 each for collisions). It's a harsh thing.
Multishot is no longer a worry. Multishot has been nerfed to only target units with the additional attacks.
Radial Attack is somewhat of a big danger. If a monster is surrounded by Morphers, they can deal a bucketload of damage. An example is if Osheroth was surrounded by morphers and he did a radial attack, that would be 5 damage to the enemy morpher form. Super damage does not apply to the additional attacks, so 2 to the initial target, and 1 each to the morphers around him. Still, 5 damage is not a easy thing to pull off. It's usually reserved for those situational events and is often worth it since it drops a monster out of form (In most cases).

So this Season of MONSTERPOCALYPSE? Yeah, it's going to be fun.
And if I'm lucky, Erin might get bored one tuesday night, offer a drive wherever and we can chat afterwards. If she's really lucky, I'll be in a complimentive mood.

On a final note, I'm loving the Horizontal rules.
They do well separating subjects.

Pied Pipers, a shitty story

This is a story that I compiled not long ago and thought to myself "Hey, this isn't half bad. Just need to fill out the middle bits."
Mind you, I'll have to fix up bits and pieces, especially when the style of writing really changes here and there.

The garbage truck beeps as it backs up.
I pity the people who work on a sunday morning.
I find myself leaning up and see nobody else laying there.
The night was long and fun.
I raised my arms up as she walked through the gate.
But things never last as long as they really should.

I stare at myself while cleaning my teeth.
The sacks under my eyes loom over my face while the sleep looks like a gunk encrusted crown.
My hair is a mess. I still have strands reaching out like legs of a spider climbing out of the back of my mind.
My beard has starting to grow again.
She enjoyed the smoothness of my face and I threw my head back in laughter of it.

The kitchen is a mess. Froot loops and popcorn and bottle galore litter the entire room. I find the half filled box of froot loops and start nibbling on them as I figure out how to tidy this up.
Then Dani steps out of her room.
She's surprised at the mess and steps carefully through the minefield of crunchy foods and glasses.
Her hair look like a web. A mess of red strands going over her cute little face.
A groan acknowledges my presence. She makes her way over to give me a little hug.
"Good morning," I say through a smirk.
I smell whiskey.
"Want some froot loops?" I ask and wave the box in front of her. She reaches in and gets a couple in her fingers before walking off to the kitchen counter. Some water and asprin are her solution to a hangover.
"No practice today." Her voice crackles like a record player.
"I figured that you might end up like this so I thought I'd play with myself today," I reply. "I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to put the headphones on for you and keep myself quiet."
She nods her head appreciatively and hobbles her way back to her room.

The loungeroom is clean and the stains remain because I'm not really sure how to get them all out.
I walk into the study.
I pick up my guitar and headphones, I sit down in my beanbag and strum a few notes.
Incubus sounds good to play at this time of morning but I'm not really sure how well I'll play it out.
We fell in love again last night, she walked me to my room and we slept the rest of the night away.
Then in the morning.
Every morning she disappears before I wake up and say goodbye. She never disturbs me.
And I can never call her, she never picks up.

Dani has come out of her room and she's feeling much better after her spew.
We watch some movies. George of the Jungle, Top Gun and Maverick are our top movies to watch on a hangover sunday.
Her head is in my lap. I keep my hand on her shoulder and a bucket at my feet just in case and a glass of water too, to wash out the disgusting taste. I know how she feels, I've been down that road before.
"So she left again."
Dani's voice is still rather coarse but her tone is as flat as spit on a pane of glass.
She's never liked her.
One of her best friends and she hates her. She only invites her because of my connection with her.
"Well what do you expect? For her to stay here with me and to enjoy a day of hangover cures and movies galore? She works like clockwork. She stays the night with me and then she sneaks off in the morning without saying a word."
Dani knows that I'm not angry at how she works because there isn't much that I can actually do.
"I wish she wouldn't do this."
"I know," I concur. "I'm not going to change it to what I want because that is just not what I do."
Dani cozies up to me. Its the closest to a hug that she can pull off right now.

She sits down at the end of the station, a gust of wind brings a strong chill.. Her mind questions her actions and her thoughts. What is she doing? Why is she doing it?
Her phone vibrates.
"A tall woman with dark hair sits down in the freezing cold. I wonder why she doesn't come over and borrow my jacket."
She looks at him. He stares off into the distance, his earphones blaring, and a foot taps to a beat.
She walks over to him and stands in front of him. She watches as he doesn't seem to notice her as he reaches into his bag and pulls out a large coat.
He quickly puts his finger to his lips, asking her to be silent.
She accepts the jacket and sits down beside him.
He offers a earphone. She accepts. He plays with his phone for a moment.
Her phone vibrates.
"I hope she likes spaghetti."
She replies: "You do make a good spaghetti"
He reads the message and smiles at her, the lights of their train illuminating his face.

On the train, they said nothing. They stared at each other and smiled. His smiles seem a little forced, she noted.
She reached out to grab his hand but he pulled back and shook his head.

He fondled with his keys, but the door opened before he found the right key.
"Yello," his roommate said.
"Yo. Guys, we've got a guest for dinner," he said and kept walking to his room.
"Hello, how are you?" the roommate asked.
"I'm good, how about you?" she replied.
"Shit," he laughed.
"Oh, okay then. I'm gonna go see..."
"That's okay. His room is straight down the hall." he says and sits back down with his partner.
"Thanks." She finds her way and sees him on the computer, typing away. She sits down on the bed across from him.
He sees her and rolls over on his chair and stands in front of her, staring into her eyes. His hands reach out for hers and caresses them.
"Dont speak yet. I want to explain something." he stops to search for the right words. "Nothing happens to me. Nothing extremely interesting, at least. I dont get invited out. I dont go to parties. I dont go mountain climbing or surfing or anything like that. I certainly dont get any interest from girls. Anything memorable stays in my memory, and i hold onto it. For some reason, i still remember how i met half of my friends, or when our relationships really got close. It's because it's rather dear to me. I still remember you saying to me 'i like to hear i still like you, girl, sometimes'. I said it to you all night, and halfway into the morning before i went to sleep and left in the morning. After that, i got excessive. I know this. Its been pointed out to me more than i'd like. I didn't mean to scare you."
He stares off into space.
"I dont want to make those mistake again, even though i'm going to remember it for a long time. I dont want the chance to make those mistakes again."
She grips his hands tightly. "Lets have dinner."

She leaves in the morning, disbelief in her mind and a little bit of worry.
Nothing happened the night before. They enjoyed dinner and the company of the roommates and the Tv. She slept in the spare bed while he slept in his own.
Nothing has changed, short of a little more understanding.
He also said to her last night something that he made a decision about a while ago.
"I dont care about close relationships. I certainly dont care about sex. When I go out, I dont chase tail. I dont care about that. I go out for a good time. Not everyone understands that of course, but hey. Them's the breaks.
"I dont want you. I want to have fun with you. That's all."

"Alright, guys" Mark presents through the Microphone. "We're all feeling a little outback today. Kinda a little country even, if ya'll haven't already guessed."
He presents himself in his attire of brown overalls, a baggy, dirty shirt, and a pair of worn out, steel capped boots. Carl was in similar attire, but Nat was in a frilled blue frock but still wearing a pair of worn boots.
"Where's Dani?" Carl says from behind the drums.
"Not a clue, hey. Do you know Nat?" Nat shakes her head while preparing her hands for the keyboard.
"Alright then. We'll start without her."
He picked up his violin and started the tune to 'Devil went down to Georgia'.
A sudden explosion and puff of smoke from the stage reveals Dani in a red and black frilled skirt and corset, long red stockings, large black boots and a horned headband to top it off. She held a violin bow and case.
"The devil went down to Georgia, she was lookin for a soul to steal. She was in a bind, cause she was way behind, an' was willing to make a deal." Carl sung the ballad with a gentle drawl in this voice. "When she came across this young boy, fiddle sawin' and playin' it hot, she jumped up on a hickory stump an' said.."
"Boy let me tell you what." Dani joined in, her voice as thick and sweet as home made syrup. "I guess you didn't know it, but I'm a fiddle player too. And if you care to take a dare, I'll make a bet with you." She prodded the air with her bow at Mark, who stood there with his arms crossed, his fiddle hanging by a few fingers. "Now you play a pretty good fiddle boy, but give the devil her due. I'll bet a fiddle of gold against your soul, cause I think I'm better than you."
"The boy said"
"My name's Johnny, and it might be a sin," Mark piped up, a ring in his voice. "But I'll take your bet, an' you're gonna regret, cause I'm the best there's ever been."
Everyone faced the audience and smiled as they sang.
"Johnny rosin' up your bow and play your fiddle hard, coz hell's broke loose in Georgia and the Devil deals the cards. Now if you win you get this shiny fiddle made of gold, but if you loose the Devil gets your Soul!"
Dani and Mark danced a little jig as Mark fiddled through to the next part of the song.
"The devil opened up her case and said.."
"I'll start this show."
"... Fire blew from her fingertips as she rosin' up her bow. As she pulled the bow across the strings, it made and EVIL HISS! Then a band of demons joined in and it sounded something like this."
Carl and Nat both put on a pair of devil horns and Mark snuck on a guitar to play. As he strummed the strings, his face was of surprise of what he was doing. The lights darkened into an evil red as Dani fiddled harder and harder.
As they finished the Devils solo, he put the guitar back down and picked up his fiddle and bow.
"When they finished, Johnny said"
"We'll you're pretty good, ol' son. But sit right down in that chair right there and I'll show you how it's done!"
"He played"
"Fire on the mountain, Run boys run!"
The entire band joined in, singing the chorus, a cheer in their voice as the stagelights brightened up.
"Devil's in the house of the Risin' sun!"
"Chickens in the Bread pin, pickin' out dough!"
The girls went quiet "Granny does your dog bite"
The Boys went quiet "No, child, No"
Dani acted surprised as her hands and arms acted without her consent to play the fiddle she held.
Carl began the story again after the duet.
"The devil bowed her head because she knew that she'd been beat. And she lay that golden fiddle on the ground at Johnnys feet. Johnny said"
"Devil, just come on back if you ever wanna try again, coz I told you once you son of a gun, I'm the best there's ever been!"
"He played"
"Fire on the Mountain, run boys run! Devils in the house of the rising sun! Chicken in the Bread pin, pickin out dough!"
"Granny does your dog bite."
"No, child, no."
The Violins were on competition now, starting off with a little fun. Dani and Mark matching each others actions and notes, the stage lights glowing into their respective colours of yellow and red as they raged on the stage with their fiddles.
Their stares lock as they stepped closer, their feet stomping on the heavier notes as the song came to an end.
The duo stood straight at the end of the song before bursting into laughter and giving each other a hug.

I walk down the rotted stairs of the back of the house, some of the peeling paint rips off as I jump down two steps at a time.
Natasha yells to me as she follows me down, concern running down her face like a waterfall. She reaches the bottom of the stairs and calls to me again.
"What!" I roar back at her from the middle of the yard. "I want to be fucking left alone!"
"Why don't you come up and we'll talk about it?"
I slowly turn around, wide eyed with surprise and annoyance.
"What the Fuck did i just say? What have i been saying for the past five minutes?"
"What's wrong?"
"Doesn't anybody listen?" I walk up to her and put my face so close that I almost headbutt her. "People have been fucking pissing me off, and that little cunt, Carl, has finally pushed my buttons enough to earn my fucking cricket bat around his head. The fat fuckhead is giggling his head off because he thinks that this is hilarious! That someone's getting pissed off because he's pushed buttons and they aren't gonna do anything about it because all these people are going to defend him and do the fight for him."
"That's not true," Natalie tries to yell back.
"Bullshit it's not true. I can hear him giggling already." I walk towards the side road.
"Mark, stop."
I quickly turn back to her and roar "Why?"
She's just about ready to cry. Even in my rage I can see that, staring into her eyes.
I turn back to the driveway.
"I'm going for a walk."

The ice rattles in my glass as I stare into my bourbon for a moment. The pool cue in my hand angles so that the rubber is back onto the table. I place the almost empty glass back onto the table and line up my shot.
"How's your night?" One of the girls from the bar calls over to me. A cute little brunette with thin blonde streaks littered about her hair.
I make my shot and watch the 8 ball slowly roll near the back corner pocket. "Could've been better."
"Mind if I ask what's wrong?" she asks as she cleans out a schooner glass.
I stare at her for a moment before picking up my glass, laying the cue on the pool table and walk over to the bar.
"Have you... committed yourself to do something stupid that you know is going to hurt not only you but those around you?" I ask.
She stares at me a little blankly. "No, I haven't. Tell me about it."
"You might have to help me loosen my lips," I say rattling my glass.
"What'll you have?" She smiles and recieves my glass.
"Bourbon lemonade"
"Nice. My name's Tammy by the way."
"Mark" I offer her a twenty. She puts the drink on the counter and gets my change.
"So. What happened?"
I take a long draw of the gentle mix and turn to her.
"A mate of mine, he acts like a tool. Nice guy when he wants to be. But he aims to annoy people. Pushing buttons and he thinks he can get away with it because everyone likes him and all this shit."
"So ignore him."
"Thats the thing. He wanted me to live with him and I took him up on the offer." She scrunches up her nose. "I know. My other roommates at the time were bugging me too. I knew it might happen, but thought I'd be able to stop it from happening."
"So how does this affect everyone else?"
"Well, I finally snapped earlier today and his adopted family," my pants vibrate and my phone starts ringing. "Speak of the devil," and I show her the heading 'Home' on my phone.
Tammy steals it away from me and answers it. "Hello?"
"This is Tammy
"Mark's here.
"He doesn't want to talk at the moment.
A moments silence.
"Okay, I will. Bye."
She hands the phone back to me and smiles. I look at my phone, then to her. Back to my phone and back to Tammy.
"So what did they say?" I ask, curiously.
"Natasha asked me to look after you."
"Fair enough."
I would smile at her, but there's this thing niggling in my mind that keeps repeating itself until i can get over it.

Two days later. I stand outsite my house and see the overgrown trees running up the walls and the dog barking at me.
"Hey, shithead," I kneel down and rub his head.
The door opens and Natasha is there, smiling at me.
"Hey," she says.
"Hey." I continue to play with the dog, not returning her look.
She watches me for a moment until I finish playing and stand up to look at her.
"How are you?"
I shrug. "Alright."
"What happened with that girl?" I walk up and motion to walk past Natasha.
"Went back to her place and I stayed there for a little while."
I walk past and Natasha's smile is gone. She doesn't frown but. She just nods her head and lowers her gaze.
"I'll be in my room," I call back to her.
I open the window frame door and enter my dark room, stepping on some of the aged paint that has finally peeled off onto the rug.
The cool walls make me feel better, more alone so I can brood. The black fading into a blue was a good choice, if i do say so myself.
The coffee table that lays across my rug still littered with paint, models and controllers. My keyboard and mouse are still in the hollows to the side.
My floor couch leans against my bed. Clean as ever. My bed, still a mess and one of my gaming posters has dropped off. Stupid Halo.
I brush off the halo poster and lay down on the bed to stare at the black ceiling.
"So are you ready to talk?" Natasha stands in the doorway.
"Do you plan to?"
"Nope." I rub my hands into my face, my fingers rubbing my slightly tired eyes and my pinkies pinching the bridge of my nose.
"Nat, if I wanted to talk, I probably would be pouring my emotions out to you already."
I stare at her.
"What about Carl?"
"I don't wanna hear from or of him for a while. Can I ask you and him of that?"
"Coz I'm friggin annoyed. Listen to me and leave me for a few more days and I'll get over it. Okay?"

She stands alone in the middle of the station, staring at the dead ends ahead of her.
He hasn't even noticed her yet. He stares off into the distance, his mind wandering in nothing while music plays in his ears.
A mistake? She considers her options: To retreat the way she came or make the approach to an awkward reintroduction.
Pardon me while I burn. The musics beat taps his foot, his fingers strumming an invisible guitar, his eyes glance away from her.
She sees him looking around and she turns away.
He casts his eyes in her direction and sees only a blurred figure of a tall, slender woman before returning to his habits.

"I miss you," a comment made while cleaning cake off of a fork.
"What do you mean?" she inquires.
"We haven't talked in so long," he says. "I wonder if you're hiding something from me, and i don't care if you're..."
She looks at me filled with surprise.
"It disappoints me that you can go back to someone who is such a dick because his very scent still gets you juiced up between the legs," he says, holding back his tears. "But that's not something to hide from me, regardless of..." he stops himself.
"Do you have any feelings for me?" Her question is abrupt, to shatter the minute of silence just passed.
"Why?" The recipient is worried, the dirty dishes in his hands being scrubbed away of the remains of dinners from the past couple of nights.
"Answer mine first." She places down the cup of coffee onto the table and looks into his eyes.
He stares for a moment and let the dark plate slide back into the murky sink. His eyes slide away into his mind, forming the correct words.
"Let me explain," he requests solemnly. "There are two sides to me. Like a coin, heads and tails. On the tails side is my romantic side. Any feelings that I have had are on that side. And for a long time, I've been rigging the game of cointoss to show heads, at our behest. I know you don't have any romantic feelings for me, and I'm fine with that. There's nothing that will change that, and I'm not going to try. That side of the coin is for you to turn up. I love you, I really do. I'm just not letting myself fall IN love with you."
He turns back to the sink and reaches into the muck, searching for the sponge.
"Mark..." she squeaks.
He looks at her, to the blackened tear streaking down her left cheek. "You're my best friend."
She stands up and runs out the front door, slamming it behind her.
Mark closes his eyes and curses to himself.
'Why am I such an idiot?' he screams through his mind. 'Why do I put myself in stupid places with people?'
He turns around and sees the bottle of bourbon, tempting him from the other side of the room.
'I don't want to think about this.'
He dries his hands on the tea towel hanging from the oven.
'She has been your best friend for years,' he quotes her words while searching for the lemonade in the fridge.
'She won't talk to you again.'

18 July 2009

This isn't a Beer Belly; It's a Tank for a Love Machine.

Tonight I seat with a bowl of massive chocolate ice cream and the lingering scent of cooked chicken in the air.
And it is a mighty fine chocolate, I do declare.

In recent times I have become more of a bookworm, expanding my collection of novels slowly. The largest pick of the litter is Terry Pratchett, and his Discworld novels.
They are a delightful read, playing on words by using them in a different, yet still apt, context that entertains the reader and causes them to rethink their view on the said metaphores.

This is nice ice cream.

The most recent completion is Soul Music, a personal favourite from my childhood, around the whole idea of "Music With Rocks In". While I remember inklings from here and there of the story, the entertainment truly threw me a wild card when I read through and became really impressed with it, mostly from the simple things that I didn't pick up before. Such as the main character whose name is originally Imp y Celyn but eventually decides to change it to "Buddy" as his name translates to "Bud of the Holly".
For those who don't know, this is a reference to Buddy Holly.
There is also a rather humourous reference that repeats itself through the story:
"That Buddy character looks a bit Elvish.
Being a fantasy novel it's understandable that someone can look like a pointy eared lout. However this is a satirical book based on music, and has many references to our own life.

A following story with this character is the character Death. Death in the Discworld is exactly what the myths have told further generations. A Tall skeletal entity that releases life with a slash of his scythe. The difference here is that he is curious about Human life, something outside his actual understanding.
This issue, he comes with the concept of forgetting.
The ideas thrown to him are The Klatchian Foreign Legion, Drinking yourself into forgetfulness, and I have forgotten the third suggestion.
Without telling the entire story, I will leave further details from this.

From this I will derail onto another book that I have begun reading today: Starcraft, Liberty's Crusade.
First of a Three part series, this novel follows a more intricate story of the Starcraft computer game.
It is not a bad read. I wouldn't claim it to be a good read, but I'm not a critic.

The only downside to this book is that currently, I live in a dark and mysterious Nerd Hole.
The lightbulb has blown. And it's been a week. And I still haven't replaced it.
Yes. I am lazy.
I will get a new bulb tomorrow.
And I might do my washing.
I wouldn't push my luck though.
On a related note, I can't get my painting done because of this lightbulb dilemma.
It will be sorted tomorrow. And Tomorrow I will base my models, and assemble those that aren't fully assembled, and undercoat them.
Fingers crossed.

Reviewing my blog, I believe myself to have started so well. Throwing interesting and Humourous events and stories out into the world (or into Waggle's world at least) and enlightening their day.
Then I started to vent emotional events.
This isn't good. I can't look at this blog and feel happy that I am brightening their day (lest something terrible or frightening has happened).
I look at it and feel embarrassed. Embarrassed, I say!
I've written a whole blog on being called a Paedophile (A vexing problem).
I've bitched the living shit out of someone (and that wasn't even half of it).
I've informed that I prey on the emotions of girls (An exaggerated line, but it pushes the idea across).
I've affirmed my desire to write (something that will probably not happen as I obviously am not serious about it).

I'm not sure where to vent from here on in.
I have retrieved myself a stein of Mccoy and Ginger Ale. Far from a Gentlemans drink, but it decontaminates me of my sobriety.

Ah, the Mccoy. A bottle recieved as a birthday present from a far from likely candidate.
Sherrie is a curious being, and her mother Bernadette is a darling (obviously because she gave me two cakes and a bottle of Bourbon).
Paul, while seeming like a grumpy ogre, is still a bit of teddy bear. Mind you, scruffy hair isn't exactly pleasing for a hug.
These three (or at least the girls) gave me my fifth birthday event for the year.
That's right. Five.
The first was Transformers on the thursday night.
The second was my Uncle Scotts birthday celebration.
The third was my own party at home.
The fourth was, possibly debatably, at the Monsterpocalypse Tournament where Kel revealed a cake from Tash.

Aaron was devastated when he realised the number of events that have sprung forth.
He claimed that he was ripped off since he didn't have a birthday party last year.
It was a simple thing to retort to:
"Aaron, you said you didn't want a birthday party."
Once again, another easy retort:
"Aaron, we're too dumb for reverse psychology!"
Conceding, he made his intentions clear that he wants a birthday event of some sort this year. Currently, my contribution remains as a colour print of one of his favourite warmachine characters (this is still in the works, actually).

Knowing that because everything is so short and sweet, with a hint of alcoholism and a dash of distraction, I'll finish this off before I become a blabbering mess, delving and reminiscing into my womanising ways (Pfft, yeah right) and raging on about the size of my genitals in a proud and confident way.

So I leave you with a couple of motivational posters that have distracted me just recently.

16 July 2009

You know you've developed Ennui when...

You design a space ship to crash behind a stick man's game of basketball.

Edit: with a stowaway alien

Editar Dos: Estoy muy contenta de haber finalmente han utilizado la palabra Tedio

I'm such a good friend

The other day, I was gaily browsing my regular haunts, webcomics and forums, and I came to check my Deviantart Account.
I didn't really expect anything interesting. I usually only get some cool photos from people I'm following, and a few journal entries that I didn't really expect to be very interesting.

That day, I was wrong.

So I've ordered up a copy of all four prints.
"Feel the Hate" is going to Aaron, since the Butcher of Khardov is his favoured Character.
"The Beast and her Pet" is going to Scott, because he plays Legion and although he doesn't like Vayl, he will have to put up with it as an Early Birthday Present.
"Coup De Grace"... I'm not sure where it'll go. I may just give it to Sam for her birthday since she loves Elves.
"Crack the Whip" is going to be mine. I like Amon Ad Raza, even though I don't play the Protectorate.

Others will have to wait until he releases more, though. If I'm lucky, Chris will eventually release the Asphyxious one and I can get that for Richard for Xmas or something. Heck, I'll give this to Chase if it comes available.

15 July 2009

I almost said Gyroscope, instead of Horoscope

Matthew Medway is a tough cookie. You can't pull the wool over Matthew's eyes and you had better not try! Matthew was born under the sign of the crab and he can deliver a very nasty nip! Cancerians may not be the fiercest creatures in the zodiac but they are blessed with a brilliant set of self-defence mechanisms. They have impenetrable armour and sharp, scary claws. Matthew's shell is especially strong.

He won't let anyone come anywhere near to his heart unless he knows for sure that they mean no harm. His impeccable instincts inform him of this and alert him to act accordingly. This is why the world around Matthew is divided into two sorts of people - those who don't know quite what to make of him and those who have been fortunate enough to meet the real Matthew Medway.

The real Matthew Medway is soft, kind, caring, loving and giving. So soft, so kind, so special as to deserve a sainthood. All praise to 'Saint Matthew the Caring.' It has a ring to it does it not? It is fair comment, is it not?

Indeed it is, as all who know the true nature of Matthew will willingly and eagerly confirm. There's only one problem with being a saint. It is what it does to your ego. Matthew Medway is a true saint and true saints are not just naturally loving and compassionate, they are also naturally humble. But true saints have a tendency to turn into martyrs. Sometimes, just sometimes, Matthew can be a little too good for his own good.

I've blogged this because it stroked my ego so.

12 July 2009

"I see you've got some painting to do"

I got a gaming fix!
Last week, The Richard purchased a game to help his own gaming fix, so at a discounted price he purchased Crysis and Crysis Warhead.
He didn't like them. So he passed them on to me.
I gave them a crack and BAM! Straight into it.
So over the past week, I've played through both games.
They're good. Crysis has a problem.
At one stage, the games enemies change to Aliens. Unfortunately, they're fairly easy. Circle strafing with a Gauss rifle easily dispatches them all.
Mind you, Crysis Warhead fixes the AI for them by giving better accuracy and maybe a little more maneuvesability.
But they're more difficult.
Crysis Warhead was probably my more prefered version. Not because it was more difficult, but because of the main character: Psycho, a british soldier. And he makes a very big point about his nationality by declaring all North Koreans that he interacts with a Muppet. For those who don't know, it means Idiot.
But these games are completed now. And, as habit, I have little desire to play them again. But it was a good hit.
Yesterday, I had a good time with a couple of mates, Kel and Greg. We were getting in some practice for the Warmachine/Hordes tournament coming in september.
Why practice?
There's a time limit on our games. Seven minutes to decide tactics, move figures and roll dice.
Its surprisingly difficult.
The only prerequisite is that your army is supposed to be fully painted.
I haven't painted a thing.
I have 8 weeks to do them in.
I have a lot of work ahead of me.

Edit: Also, I have to put half of them together still.

09 July 2009

The Hills ask for bus money

Twice Every day, I go to the shops for work. Once around 9am, and once around 2pm.
I ask most everyone if they want anything, and I take up their shopping lists and give around about the right amount of change.

Now I know lots of people at the shops in the next complex. Mostly the girls. Annette and Robyn at the newsagents, Danielle at Zone Fresh, the guys at Subway (I don't remember any of their names).
There's the Bakery girls. Since I started, I've become friends with most of the girls that have come through the bakery. All of them are really cool (Jaime was fuckin hot).
There's the Zone Fresh girls. Most of them are pretty cool (Katie is pretty hot).
There's also the randoms that are really cute. One of the girls at the Newsagents (not Annette or Robyn) has really nice body, and has coloured her hair red. It's not a really sexy red, but I have a thing for Redheads (Fake or otherwise).

But this is not the subject of this blog. I just wanted to throw that out there.
Its the crazy people. There's a halfway house up the road from where our office is located.
Occasionally, some of the homeless will come down to the shops.

I turned the corner returning to the office from the shops and walked past the bus stop, where a homeless dude was talking with Brüno, the advertisement Poster.
"What are you trying to say, huh?" he says as he lounges across the bench.

I continued walking in case he decided to introduce me to his life partner, Brüno.

08 July 2009

Like a deer in Headlights

That train ride was an experience. A special guy chose two lovely ladies, called one his mother, and the one next to her either his soon-to-be wife or ex-wife.

He then proceeded to introduce himself to me and asked me if I had two dollars. I said "no, I don't have any money currently" (Which I don't, the bank has it), and he gave me a hug and kissed me on the neck because we're all struggling in this world.

He then pretty much grabbed and forced me into looking at the lovely ladies who were his "mother" and "wife" who were seated behind me. He then took my earphones, gave an earpiece to his "wife" and told her that "Incubus - out from under" was their wedding song.

Then he hugged me goodbye, gave me a sloppy kiss on the cheek and the lips, and ask me if it was gay.

All well. His fault that he's going to get sick.

05 July 2009

Colder than a Witches Tit

At 7am, a person would be heading off to work, or already on their way, depending on circumstances.
I'm usually on my way there.
It's a pretty straight forward series of events.
I walk to the station
I take the train to Bowen Hills
I take another train to Windsor
I walk down to the office.
Same deal happens on the way home.
The only big changes I expect are Rain or general heat, such as today which is really quite cold. At the moment, it's 9°C. This is an hour after I left for work, so it most likely would be a few degrees cooler at that time.
But this begs a question that developed this morning:
What possesses an old man to leave his house Naked to get something from the back seat of his car?!
I had a nice dream in my head until I saw that.