Quote me!

Before it becomes popular, let it be known that I’m the first to say the following words.

The universe conspires against hope and positive thinking.

At least I hope I’m the first; I want to be quoted for something already…

NASA angers Apollo

Here’s the story. NASA bombs moon, moon god – Apollo – is angered.
We all die because Apollo shoots us with his arrows.
And no, there are no other moon gods, there is only one moon god and Apollo is him.

And really? Freaking really? Come on, it’s the moon vs. a rocket. It’s like a grain of sand versus a basketball.

OMG! NaNoWriMo Already?

Is it that time of year again?
No, no it isn’t it’s still 3 weeks again.
But, you can feel the excitement!

For those of you who do not know of what I am talking, I am talking of NaNoWriMo – National Novel Writing Month.
Yes, I needed to insult your intelligence; I use such petty tactics to sleep better at night knowing that you know I hold you in contempt.
Also, NaNoWriMo is in November. You can get more information on their site: http://www.nanowrimo.org/ . As if you’d read this far in if you didn’t already know what NaNoWriMo was.

Note to self: find out the best format for URLs

Now with NaNoWriMo on it’s way you can expect me to periodically procrastinate via this blog. So we’ll be un-dead, but not reanimated undead. Un-dead as in not dead. Perhaps ex-dead is a better word. Like ex-parrot.

Well, expect updates!
Sort of…
Not really.

Khan. WordPress doesn’t autolink.

Re: Spy Sappin’ Mah Blog!

Happy now?

(archival note: theme was changed from something to something else.)

Spy Sappin’ Mah Blog!

Hello everyone! It’s me, Kenito. You may not remember me – I’m the one who remains on topic and imbues his posts with errant signs of my violent hatred of Communists.

Anyway, it appears David has metaphorically raped (and perhaps physically too, I noticed that the disc drive and some of the ports don’t work on the webserver mainframe anymore) the blog in my absence. I’m going to keep this rant short and sweet, because I need to go find a cheap lawyer so Miss Webserver can sue for mental anguish.

The new blog theme. Seriously? You may call it “modern” and “stylized”. I call it “best viewed at a resolution of 640×480 or higher.”

Doctor Sampson’s Telescopic Range

An Ingenious Use of Doctor Sampson’s Telescopic Range

If ever a gentleman find himself surrounded by his rival’s mercenary employ–as often I have–in the boiler room of said rival’s factory–as was I lately–then he need merely turn Doctor Sampson’s Telescopic Range–available at Doctor Sampson’s Emporium of Scientific Wonders and Technological Marvels for a nominal fee–towards boiler and let free a telescoping stream of heat to boil the water contained to make for a most effective distraction to aid in his escape.

Note on use of Doctor Sampson’s Telescopic Range: It’s a clumsy poorly-designed flamethrower. Don’t use it, if you value your life.

The Fairy and the Princess

I’ve been wanting to make my own Fairytale for quite some time now. I think this captures the spirit, even if the style was done without taste.

There once lived a fairy in a castle more ancient than the forest that surrounded it. She stole away children lost in the forest to eat of their flesh and to grind of their bones to powder for her magic.
One day there came a princess that had wandered too far into the forest looking for more ripe blackberries to pick. This deep in the forest only the grey stone of the castle was made present in her sight. Looking for rest, she came inside and searched, chamber after chamber, until she found a bed. There she took slumber for the forest let not the light of day through and concealed the hours spent under the dark leaves.
The fairy waited for the princess to arise before she spoke these words: “Tell me your name and you fears for I like knowledge the name of my meals and fear in the bones soon ground to dust.”
The princess replied, “I am a princess of a great kingdom, and you shall not have my name for I will not have it spoke by a tongue so vulgar. If you will not have me killed for seven days and seven nights, I will tell you my greatest fear by the end of the seventh night.” Never before had one bargained so plain and clear with a fairy. Because of this, the fairy agreed.
Later that first day, the princess asked of the fairy how was being of the fae like. She was not given answer. On that first night, the fairy asked of the princess a chore performed each day of the six more days left her life.
On the second day, the princess swept all the floors of the castle. On that night, the princess asked of the fairy its magic. Again, she received not answer.
On the third day, the princess chopped wood. That night, the fairy told the princess of flying, of never ageing, of requiring the flesh of humans, and of much more.
On the fourth day, the princess was asked of no chore. Instead the fairy asked what was like being a princess. The princess did not answer. That night, the princess told of balls and feast, of dress and dance, of gown and crown, and of prince and fiancée.
On the fifth day, the princess picked more blackberries. That night, the fairy spoke of spells to cause slumber, of potions to exchange form, and of curses to cause death.
On the sixth day, the fairy had not found the princess to give chore, and so the fairy prepared magic. That night the princess returned and spoke to the fairy. “On the seventh day soldiers of my home will come for me and kill you.” Upon hearing this, the fairy turned to cauldron to make of potion and finished quickly. Then, the fairy forced potion to the princess and both went soundly to slumber.
On the seventh day, the fairy in the form of the princess was taken by the soldiers. And the princess in the form of the fairy was slain by the blade. That night, the fairy in form of the princess was married to a worried prince.
Two years later, the fairy still in the form of the princess had birthed two heirs of the prince. After marriage any power the princess had held was swiftly stripped and stolen by the prince.
The princess in the form of fairy was still alive, for her death was but temporary. She was kind to children lost in the woods before she killed them whilst they slumbered and ate of their flesh and ground of their bones. She had nearly enough powder from bone for a spell terrible and vengeful.

If any has ideas on how to make it better (consistency, prose more suited for the topic, logical issues that need clearing up, messy phrasing, etc.) do tell.

Google is God

http://www.thechurchofgoogle.org/Scripture/Proof_Google_Is_God.html

’nuff said.

(via Unreasonable Faith )

Fake Accents and Its Power

A funny thing happened to me during my lunch period.

I was playing cards with this person who seems to be stalking me, and kicking his ass. During that time there was this table of people behind me, straing at me. I was wondering why they were looking at me.

I didn’t have to wonder for long. One of those people walk up to me all of sudden, and he asks, “Are you Australian?”

Well, that shocked me. Because, I’ve been heavily Americanised; but I realised that the one accent that I could do really well wasn’t going to fool them for long if they thought I was Australian. So I just cursed him off.

In a British accent.

“I’m not fucking Australian; I’m British, you stupid fucking twat.”

I may have said that a bit loudly, because I attracted more faces but it was funny.

So that guy sits back down, and I have a minute of so of non disturbance where I’m laughing my ass off. Then, it happens again–maybe it was the same person; maybe it wasn’t–but this time he tells me, “Say ‘Crickey Mate!’”

So I say to him, “I told you you bloody idiot I’m fucking British–England–and if you call me Australian again I will shove my foot up your fucking ass.”

Well that was what I meant to say. I had said, “shove my ass up your bloody ass.” Luckily, they didn’t notice.

So I hear them discussing amongst themselves, and it became clear to them that I was (pretending) to be British; not Australian.

This time one of them asked “Say ‘bloody ‘ell’” in a stupidly shitty accent.

I didn’t let this one slip either. “I’m not saying bloody anything for you bloody idiot; now fuck-off before I shove my bloody foot up your bloody ass.” This time I said foot.

So they didn’t come up to bother me, and the people at my table were astonished at how they believed I was Australian. And then it set in to me that they may have been screwing with my head, so I was thinking “Were they screwing with my head or are they screwing with mine?”

I mean it’s a fine mixture of information that needs to be given to them to have them actually fall for it since even before the beginning.

So what do you think? Did I screw with their heads? Or did they screw with mine?

Why the IBM Model M is the best keyboard ever.

1. Patented Buckling Spring Key Switches
In other words: Each time I press any one of the keys on my keyboard, it feels like the sexy “gears & cogs” mechanical spring-loaded movement. And it feels springy.

2. It won’t jam.
Well it will, but not when you use jam; when you use glue—industrial strength glue.

3. Durability
Does your keyboard have a steel plate?

4. Security
Can you use your keyboard to beat up would-be burgalars?

5. It still works
Even a decade—and—a–half into its life

6. It’s old
It’s a proven fact that old things are cool. Id est, pocket watches, zeppelins, propeller planes, fountain pens, typewriters, revolvers, steam engines, steam trains, steam punk, telegraphs, & c.

7. It’s your best excuse for not using your typwriter.
It feels as almost as nice as typing with a typewriter. It sounds almost as nice and loud as the clickity-clack of the typewriter keys hitting the paper and rubber-coated steel drum.