Funny Stuff
Note: This blog is now defunct because I have moved to http://house-of-jupiter.blogspot.com
where I regularly post up intelligent posts, personal thoughts, reviews and free stuff (songs, albums, articles, photos). Come on over.Because we need laughs.
Note: Most of the gags in this post are not originally from me. Some are edited, some have been lifted with permission. Nevertheless, enjoy:
Why Darth Vader is an intergalactic LOSER:
Vader uses force power to choke weak-minded bitches and galactic senators into submission. I use my hands to choke bitches when they won't cook me dinner or do my laundry. I don't need to rely on some mystical force to kick ass or "persuade" my girlfriend to wash my car. Mystical forces take too much effort and mind power, so using your hands is more practical anyways. That's what hands are for: choking. And masturbation. But, more importantly, choking. If Vader had any balls at all, he would have walked up to that senator, smacked his face, and then choked him with his hands. Instead, he stands across the room and uses the force. Gay.
Vader was the mastermind behind the Death Star. So what? It was destroyed by some whiny crybaby who blew it up by accident when he was trying to jack off to the manly static feedback of his co-pilot R2D2. If I built a Death Star, I would not give it some weakass Achille's Heel like an exhaust vent that connects straight to the reactor core accessible by any douchebag piloting an X-wing. Hell no. I would have a self destruct button guarded by drunk highschool kids with assault rifles. Nobody messes with drunk highschool kids with assault rifles. Nobody. Especially not a bitch named Luke Skywalker who bangs his sister.
Vader uses light sabers. Okay, light sabers are cool in their own right, but they are not as badass or deadly as a regular sword. After all, a regular sword doesn't need battery power and, even better, ninjas use them. What happens when you go to have an intergalactic Jedi duel and your lightsaber isn't charged up? You're fucked, unless your packing heat. (Let me go out on a limb here and assume that no one reading this is packing heat. Here's my impression of you: dead). Speaking of light sabers, I wonder what would happen if it accidently went off in your pocket and sliced your wang off? You'd be the laughing stock of all the Jedi's, that's what. People with names like "Gung-Yin" and "Count Dooku" would all be laughing at you because they secretly feel insecure about themselves. And that would suck.
Vader has no skills with the ladies. In any of the Star Wars movies, have you EVER seen Darth Vader in a steamy shower scene or a hot tub with a beautiful woman? I didn't think so. He couldn't pimp his way out of a whorehouse on free-herpes night. He would be the nervous, bumbling idiot in the corner spilling his drinks, trying to make small talk, and accidently slicing hookers up with his light saber when he got nervous. I hate it when loser kids say "Vader is a pimp, yo!" No. He's not. Now, go back to playing Dungeons and Dragons. Assholes.
Dogs - "Because you're not allowed to beat up your children."
Osama bin Laden, might be the most feared men in the world right now, but ya know what scares me about him? His fingernails. Every time he releases a new video, my eyes are glued to those repulsively long and filthy fingernails of his. Okay, let’s get Al-Qaeda out of the way first. Granted, they’re a KOOKIE bunch of characters, but the 9/11 incident really was kind of a fluke, and they’re separated from us by sea and thousands of thousands of miles. Besides, possible Al-Qaedaites have that darkish skin, odd names and shifty look to them, so every time I see a person who fits this profile, I point at them and begin screaming, “Terrorist! Terrorist!” at the top of my lungs, which usually brings at least one policeman running over pronto to take care of him.
But as my grandfather used to say, “If you’re looking for dog shit, look in your own backyard first”… I was never sure why he said that. He didn’t have a dog, he lived in an apartment building, and I don’t recall ever going over there and Grandma saying, “He’ll be back in a little while. He’s on a dog shit expedition”…. but I understood his point.
Overrated Holidays:
New Years
This has to go; it is the most anticlimactic holiday ever. Everyone counts down for ten seconds, then once it happens everyone yells “happy new year”, there’s about five minutes of confetti getting in your drink and horns being blown in your ears, and that’s about it. I’m sorry, but I do not believe five minutes of celebration should be deemed a holiday, I’ve celebrated seeing a girl’s skirt lifted up in the wind longer than that (plus it provides me with some material for when I have “Andy time”, but I digress). Perhaps I misspoke. Sure it’s a useless holiday, but it gives you the ability to get drunk on any day of the week depending on when New Years is, it’s like an alcoholic wild card, use it as an excuse to get drunk and not be judged. So, what say we compromise. We’ll keep the reckless, guilty-free drinking, the next day off, and the countdown and we’ll lose the confetti and other noise makers and Dick Clark…you know what, fuck it, we can keep Dick Clark. Deal.
Valentines
You might want to sit down for this one, it could take a while. There is no holiday worse than Valentine’s Day. First off, it is the only one on this list that can be deemed a “Hallmark Holiday”. I believe that’s the first rule of being a legitimate holiday, you can’t be made up by a greetings card company.
Second off, this holiday is the most depressing and prejudice of them all. It only applies to people who are in a relationship with someone they like. Come on, I’ve seen more men drink Smirnoff Ice than people in good relationships, there are more black people in Utah than happy couples, there are more Jews in the NBA than healthy relationships, need I go further? I needn’t, but I will.
Third off, as I’ve mentioned before this is a “Hallmark Holiday”, so in other words, it’s not a real holiday, it’s not recognized by the National Board of Holidays and Special Events. So by taking part in this shame those of us who participate in it are in turn following a false idea or belief. I believe the last time that a group of people followed something like that Moses broke the Ten Commandments; let’s try to not have a repeat of that.
Every time there is a tragedy of epic proportions, the grieving public is faced with the tasks of mourning, helping victims families recover and deciding when is a good time to start cracking jokes! The last of these gives us pause for thought: When is Too Soon?
The designers of the Titanic boasted that their ship was “unsinkable,” but in a great ironic twist, the damn thing went down on its maiden voyage! Cocky bastards. Although white people died, they were mostly foreigners, and it was a long, long time ago. So this little tragedy is ripe for sinking.
Too Soon Factor: Slice your iceberg into the side of this tragedy!
Example: Yo’ mama so fat, she sank the Titanic!
Al-Qaeda thinks they are so smart flying planes into stuff, but they are just ripping off the Japanese, who perfected the “Kamikaze” move long ago. The unprovoked attack of Pearl Harbor brought the United States into World War II, and the Japanese into our hearts.
Too Soon Factor: Americans died 64 years ago. Hmmm. But so did a lot of Japanese, so now’s a good time to dive bomb this tragedy. Fire away!
Example: After watching Ben Affleck in Pearl Harbor you almost wish the Japanese had done a better job.
Use a comma before a coordinating conjunction that links independent clauses.
1. Cats are cute, but I wouldn’t eat one.
2. Pete swung the bat, and he hit me in the testicles.
3. I like chicken nuggets, but I don’t know if they are really made of chicken.
4. We couldn’t tell what kind of road kill it was, so we turned the car around to check.
Use a comma after an introductory clause, phrase, or word.
1. After the show, there will be an orgy at the hotel.
2. When the sun came up, we saw that the koalas had surrounded us.
3. By the way, you have a very large squirrel on your head.
4. However, I did tell him to dispose of the bodies.
Use a comma to separate items in a series.
1. Tonight we are having soup, salad, chicken, and chilled monkey brains.
2. You wrecked you car because it was dark, you were going too fast, and it was a very large deer.
Use commas to set off transitional and parenthetical expressions, contrasts, words of direct address, and tag sentences.
1. Rob, your zipper is open.
2. That woman was actually a man, I think.
3. Scooby Doo, along with solving mysteries, encouraged children to smoke marijuana.
4. Therefore, that could not have been my monkey that you saw in your baby carriage.
The most shocking part of the film comes when it is revealed that Anakin Skywalker becomes Darth Vader (the evil black helmeted guy from the first trilogy)! After taking us through these three "prequels" who would have seen that coming? Frankly I thought it was a rather disappointing ending, however the special effects were outstanding. Samuel L. Jackson lends his voice to the character of Mace Windu who is a beautifully done, very life like CG rendition of a black man that rivals Episode I's Jar Jar Binks.
I give Episode III a rating of Super Awesome, but ever since Episode I came out, something has been nagging at me: In the first prequel when Obi wan Kenobi meets Anakin's mother she tells him that Anakin didn't have a father, she just got pregnant with him and pooped him out all on her own. So if Anakin Skywalker was truly immaculately conceived, does that mean that Jesus was a Jedi? This may be an overlooked plot point in Star Wars, that could reveal a lot about another sacred text: The Bible. Several clues indicate His Jedi status. JC could do mind tricks: Water into wine, walking on water. That whole parting the red sea thing. Clearly the work of one who is in control of The Force. So was Jesus H. Christ really the first Jedi.... or the last? -I say 'the last' because the Star Wars story reportedly takes place 'Long, Long Ago..." this indicates that the events of Star Wars actually happened before our own time period here on Earth. Therefore Jesus was in fact a Jedi sent to civilize a distant, wayward, blue planet beyond the outer rim during the time of The Galactic Empire.
Are there certain words or phrases that drive you crazy when spoken? Lame expressions that make you want to scream “Come up with something more original you brain-dead moron!” Here are my top 10 “skin crawlers”.
1. “Have a nice day”. I use a slight variation of the most overused saying in the history of civilization: “Have a day!”
2. “Significant other”. Gag! Just say, wife, girlfriend, boyfriend, friend, cat, dog, etc.
3. “Win-win”. Only stated by “losers-losers!”
4. “I’m just big boned.” Have you ever seen a skeleton with bigger bones than any other skeleton? I have some bad news for you; every skeleton weighs about the same! So, you’re…
5. “I just want a healthy baby.” No, you either want a boy or girl. You’re just afraid if you say it, others will think you are cold-hearted and shallow.
6. “Get a life.” I say, “get a vocabulary.”
7. “I’m offended.” It seems most people are offended by something every day. Before 1980 I don’t remember anyone ever using that word. My response is-so what!
8. “Get over it.” See # 6.
9. “I was shocked.” Shock was once used for devastating, catastrophic events. Not anymore. People are now “shocked” when a pigeon craps on there car!
10. “It’s not fair.” Welcome to planet earth. If life was fair I’d be a 6’4” quarterback for the San Francisco 45ers!
Chuck Norris' tears cure cancer. Too bad he's never cried.
Chuck Norris does not have AIDS but he gives it to people anyway.
Chuck Norris sold his soul to the devil for his rugged good looks and unparalleled martial arts ability. Shortly after the transaction was finalized, Chuck roundhouse kicked the devil in the face and took his soul back. The devil, who appreciates irony, couldn't stay mad and admitted he should have seen it coming. They now play poker every second Wednesday of the month.
A man once asked Chuck Norris if his real name is "Charles". Chuck Norris did not respond, he simply stared at him until he exploded.
Chuck Norris recently had the idea to sell his urine as a canned beverage. We know this beverage as Red Bull.
Chuck Norris can make a woman climax by simply pointing at her and saying "booya".
Chuck Norris does not sleep. He waits.
Chuck Norris once shot a German plane down with his finger, by yelling, "Bang!"
The chief export of Chuck Norris is pain.
After much debate, President Truman decided to drop the atomic bomb on Hiroshima rather than the alternative of sending Chuck Norris. His reasoning? It was more "humane".
An even more shocking example was when the CIA inadvertently mistook a news report on a small online satire magazine run by two students that a small village in Canada was a training camp for Al-Qaeda operatives and levelled it with an air strike killing 130 innocent people.
“I'm Spiderman.” he explained to me, in case I had inadvertently mistaken his entrance for that of someone else – maybe the window cleaners, I'm not sure, I forgot to ask.
For the first time in history, not only is it possible for you to genuinely argue with your computer, but also it will argue back. One test user screamed at her desktop “You stupid machine.” To which the computer replied: “I am only a 1.6GHz Pentium 4. At least I fulfil my potential - you couldn’t even figure out how to switch me off last night. I got fed up with waiting I ended up doing it myself.”
Chesterville, WA - Tommy Parks never had problems opening jars before. Peantut butter, jam, even pickle jars, he could open with ease. But today he met his match and his ego and relationship fell victim to the jars stubborness.
"I don't know what to say." said Tommy, soon after his 5th attempt to open the jar. "Maybe my hands are sweaty. ...Give me a towel!"
Tommy's girlfriend, Judith, was at first supportive. But her support quickly turned to disgrace and disappointment. "My last boyfriend had a horrible drinking problem, but atleast he could open a jar when I needed it!" Judith yelled as Tommy ran to the garage to get a screwdriver.
Just in case there's a first date in your near future, here's a list of the "10 Things You Should NOT Say On A First Date"
10) I just got fired, would you mind paying?
9) You know, you smell just like my grandmother.
8) So what's your favorite Porn movie?
7) What a coincidence, I own that exact same blouse!
6) I don't know why, but it burns when ever I urinate.
5) My last relationship ended badly... But, thankfully, the courts ruled it justifiable homicide.
4) Would you mind if I asked the waitress out? Just in case this doesn't work out...
3) Do pet snakes bother you?
2) Would you mind if we just don't talk?
and the #1 thing NOT to say on a first date
1) PENIS!
Note: This blog is now defunct because I have moved to http://house-of-jupiter.blogspot.com
where I regularly post up intelligent posts, personal thoughts, reviews and free stuff (songs, albums, articles, photos). Come on over.Homer: I'm not normally a religious man, but if you're up there, save me, Superman!
Homer Simpson: Weaseling out of things is important to learn. It's what separates us from the animals... except the weasel.
Marge: I think we're going to need a bigger place.
Homer: No, we don't. I've got it all figured out. The baby can have Bart's room and Bart can sleep with us until he's 21.
Marge: Won't that warp him?
Homer: My cousin Frank did it.
Marge: You don't have a cousin Frank.
Homer: He became Francine in '76. Then he joined that cult. I think his name is Mother Shabubu now.
Homer: Please don't eat me! I have a wife and kids. Eat them!
Homer: There, there, Bart. If something's hard, then it's not worth doing.
[Homer can't stop the monorail]
Marge: I've brought somebody to help you.
Homer: Is it Batman?
Marge: It's a scientist.
Homer: Batman's a scientist?
Marge: It's NOT Batman.
Homer: Operator! Give me the number for 911!
Homer: If something goes wrong, blame the guy who can't speak English.
Homer: Kids, you tried your best and you failed miserably. The lesson is, never try.
Homer: Awww... 20 dollars!? I wanted a peanut.
Homer's brain: 20 dollars can buy many peanuts!
Homer: Explain how.
Homer's brain: Money can be exchanged for goods and services!
Homer: Woo hoo!
Lisa: Dad, we did something very bad!
Homer: Did you wreck the car?
Bart: No.
Homer: Did you raise the dead?
Lisa: Yes.
Homer: But the car's okay?
Bart & Lisa: Uh-huh.
Homer: All right then.
Scully: Homer, we're going to ask you a few simple yes or no questions. Do you understand?
Homer: Yes. (lie dectector blows up)
Grandpa: My Homer is not a communist. He may be a liar, a pig, an idiot, a communist, but he is not a porn star.
Lionel Hutz: Well, he's kind of had it in for me ever since I accidentally ran over his dog. Actually, replace "accidentally" with "repeatedly," and replace "dog" with "son."
Bart: There's no such thing as a soul. It's just something they made up to scare kids, like the boogeyman or Michael Jackson.
Homer: Wait, I'm no missionary! I don't even believe in Jebus! Let me out.
Pilot: Sorry, no can do.
Homer: Oh save me Jebus!
Moe: Well I'm better than dirt! Well, most kinds of dirt. I mean, not that fancy store-bought dirt. That stuff's loaded with nutrients. I can't compete with that stuff.
Mr. Burns: I could crush him like an ant. But it would be too easy. No, revenge is a dish best served cold. I'll bide my time until ... Oh, what the hell. I'll just crush him like an ant.
Mr. Burns: Nonsense! Dogs are idiots! Think about it, Smithers. If I came into your house and started sniffing at your crotch and slobbering all over you, what would you say?
Smithers: If you did it, sir?
Homer: A gun is not a weapon Marge, it's a tool. Like a butcher knife, or a harpoon, or... or an alligator.
Frink: Here we have an ordinary square.
Wiggum: Woah! Slow down egghead!
Homer: He has all the money in the world, but there's one thing he can't buy.
Marge: What's that?
Homer: (pause) A dinosaur.
Lisa: You must kill the head vampire - Mr. Burns!
Homer: Kill my boss? Do I dare live out the American dream?
Bart: Aren't we forgeting the true meaning of Christmas? You know, the birth of Santa.
Marge: [sings] How many roads must a man walk down / Before you can call him a man...
Homer: Seven.
Lisa: No, dad, it's a rhetorical question.
Homer: OK, eight.
Lisa: Dad, do you even know what "rhetorical" means?
Homer: Do *I* know what "rhetorical" means?
Marge: Homer, the plant called. They said if you don't show up tomorrow don't bother showing up on Monday.
Homer: Woo-hoo. Four-day weekend.
Homer: [Looking at a globe map...country being Uruguay]
Hee hee! Look at this country! 'You are gay.'
Bart Simpson (spelling "Impervious" in a spelling Bee): I...M...P
Nelson: Bart is pee!
Ralph Wiggum: I Barted in my pants!
Homer: What's a wedding? Webster's dictionary describes it as the act of removing weeds from one's garden.
Homer: Fame was like a drug, but what was even more like a drug were the drugs.
Frink: Oh my great good God! Gentlemen, your attention please. I am detecting a gigiantic amphibious life-form, it's 80 meters long and it's heading this way. Oh good glayven it's on my shoe. It's a small frog, just get off, just get off there, just get out of it, get out of it. Stupid machine, oh wait a minute, this isn't the Monsterometer, it's the Frog-Exaggerator Mm-hai.
Homer: Gasp! Adam West! [calling] Kids! Batman
Lisa: Dad, that's not the real Batman.
Adam West: Of course I'm the real Batman. [shows a glossy] See, here's a picture of me with Robin!
'BART SIMPSON, ARCHENEMY OF EVIL!'
Lisa: "Me? Give up my summer? Just because I'm smart doesn't mean I'm crazy!"
Marge: "Besides, Maybe you can really learn something from all this -- like if you study a little harder, you won't have to go next summer."
Bart: "Mom, it's bad enough that I have to waste precious days of my youth in summer school. Don't make it worse by asking me to actually learn something.
Milhouse: "She says having me hanging around the house all summer makes her plants die."
Otto: Hold onto your seats, kids! Due to school budget cutbacks, we couldn't get the brakes fixed.
Kearney: Hey! My pants are starting to fall down!"
Jimbo & Dolph: Ha Ha!
Kearney: It's not funny, man!
Jimbo & Dolph: Ha Ha!
Homer: "Ned, as your best friend, I feel it's my duty while you're gone to look after your bumper pool table, big screen TV, and imported beer bar!"
Bart: "Yeah, Homer must have done it while I was asleep! What a great dad!"
Milhouse: "My dad does stuff for me, too"
Bart: "Like what?"
Milhouse: "Well, er...um..."
An hour later...
Milhouse: "Um...he shared a cigar with me once!"
Herman: "I understand you're having a feud with your neighbor!"
Homer: "What? How'd you find out so fast?"
Herman: "The internet"
Lisa: "Bart!"
Bart: "Lisa! Oh, man, what a mix up! I thought this was my room and...um...my piggy bank!
Homer: "Don't let Krusty's death get you down. People die all the time. Just like that. Why, you could wake up dead tomorrow. Well, good night."
Marge: "Homer, I've gone through seven years of receipts, and you've spent less on gifts for me than you have on temporary tattoos."
Homer: Bart! With $10,000 we'd be millionaires! We could buy all kinds of useful things... like love.
Homer: I never apologize, Lisa. I'm sorry, but that's just the way I am.
Marge: Are you really going to ignore Grampa for the rest of your life?
Homer: Of course not Marge, just for the rest of his life.
Homer: So, like us, let your children run wild and free, because, as the old saying goes, let your children run wild and free.
Homer: If you really want something in life you have to work for it. Now quiet, they're about to announce the lottery numbers.
Homer: You know Moe, my mom once said something that really stuck with me. She said 'Homer, you're a big disappointment.' And God bless her soul, she was really onto something.
Apu: I can recite pi to 40,000 places. The last digit is 1.
Homer: Mmm... pi.
Homer: Oh, they have the Internet on computers now.
Homer: (on the phone) Yeah Moe, that team sure did suck last night. They just plain sucked. I've seen teams suck before, but they were the suckiest bunch of sucks that ever sucked.
Homer: Kids, there's three ways to do things: the right way, the wrong way, and the Max Power way.
Bart: Isn't that the wrong way?
Homer: Yeah, but faster!
Burns: I suggest you leave immediately.
Homer: Or what? You'll release the dogs, or the bees, or the dogs with bees in their mouths and when they bark they shoot bees at you?
Bart: We were just planning the father-son river rafting trip.
Homer: Hehe. You don't have a son.
Mr. Burns: And a stunt like that impresses people?
Homer: Oh yeah. And I'm not easily impressed. Wow! A blue car!
Homer: This has purple stuff inside - purple is a fruit.
Homer: It seems that the cat has been caught by the very person who was trying to catch him.
Skinner: How ironic.
Homer: Pfft. English, who needs that? I'm never going to England.
Homer: Marge, it takes two to lie - one to lie and one to listen.
Homer: Trying is the first step towards failure.
Homer: Look at those morons! I paid my taxes over a year ago!
Homer: Why don't those stupid idiots let me into their crappy club for jerks?
Homer: Son, when you participate in sporting events, it's not whether you win or lose: it's how drunk you get.
Homer: Maybe for once someone will call me 'sir' without adding 'you're making a scene.
Homer: That's it! Being abusive to your family is one thing, but I will not stand by and watch you feed a hungry dog! Go to your room!
Homer: I want to set the record straight - I thought the cop was a prostitute.
Homer: Will you knock it off! I can't hear myself think!
Brain: I want some peanuts.
Homer: Hello, my name is Mr. Burns, I believe you have a letter for me.
Clerk: Okay Mr. Burns, what's your first name?
Homer: I don't know.
Fireman: Homer, this is never easy to say... we're gonna have to saw your arms off.
Homer: They'll grow back, right?
Homer: Stealing! How could you? Haven't you learned anything from that guy who gives those sermons at church? Captain what's-his-name? We live in a society of laws. Why do you think I took you to all those Police Academy movies? For fun? Well I didn't hear anybody laughing, did you? Except at that guy who made sound effects... (does sounds effects) Where was I? Oh yeah, stay out of my booze!
Burns: And this must be little... Brat
Bart: Bart.
Homer: Don't correct the man, Brat.
Bart: Well, I'm not calling you a liar, but... I can't think of a way to finish that sentence.
Bart: From A - Apple to Z - Zebra, Baby's First Pop-Up Book is 26 pages of alphabetic adventure!
Mrs. Krabappel: Bart, you mean to tell me you read a book intended for preschoolers?
Bart: Well, most of it.
Grampa: The fortune doesn't matter, boy. The important thing is you're safe. Now let's get that fortune!
Grampa: Coma? Why I do in and out of comas all the-- (sleeps) French toast, please.
Ralph: Help! She's touching my special area!
Ralph: Miss Hoover, my worm went in my mouth and then I ate it. Can I have a new one?
Hoover: There aren't any more, Ralph. Just try to sleep while the other children are learning.
Ralph: Oh boy, sleep! That's when I'm a viking!
Wiggum: Being a cop is not something that happens overnight. It takes one solid weekend of training to get that badge.
Wiggum: I tell ya, they only come out a night, or in this case, the daytime.
Comic Book Guy: Inspired by the most logical race in the galaxy, The Vulcans, breeding will be permitted once every seven years. For many of you, this will mean much less breeding. For me, much much more.
Apu: Yes, yes, I know the procedure for armed robbery. I do work in a convenience store, you know.
Homer: No offense Apu, but when they were handing out religions you must have been out taking a whiz!
Apu: Mr. Simpson, please pay for your purchases and get out, and come again!
Krusty: It wasn't me, it was the Perkadan! If you ask me, that stuff rots your brain. And now a word from our sponsor: Perkadan?! Aw, crap!!
Flanders: And Harry Potter, and all his wizard friends... went straight to Hell for practicing witchcraft.
Moe: He may have come up with the recipe, but I came up with the idea of charging $6.95 for it.
Moe: I'm better than dirt. Well, most kinds of dirt... not that fancy store-bought dirt... that stuff's loaded with nutrients, I... I can't compete with that stuff.
Moe: Barney, don't steal any beer while I'm gone!
Barney: What kind of pathetic drunk do you take me for? (gasp) Someone spilt beer in this ashtray!
Barney: My name is Barney and I'm an alcoholic.
Lisa: Mr. Gumble, this is a Girl Scout meeting.
Barney: Is it, or is it that you ladies can't admit you have a problem?
Barney: Wow, David Crosby, you're my hero!
Crosby: You like my music?
Barney: You're a musician?
Skinner: Attention, this is an emergency broadcast. All is well in the school.
Hutz: I've argued in front of every judge in this state. Often as a lawyer.
Jimbo: You kissed a girl? That is so gay!
Australian: You call that a knife? THIS is a knife! (brings out a spoon)
Bart: That's not a knife, that's a spoon.
Australian: Alright you win. I see you've played 'knifey-spoony' before.
Horst: We regret to announce the following lay-offs, which I will read in alphabetical order. Simpson, Homer. That is all.
Oh no...
Sigh, I wrote a long update, then I lost it. Stupid com keeps on dcing. Anyway, here are the updates:
The web counter is now at the bottom. You may observe that there are two of them. The top one is the [number of page views + cookies]. The bottom one is [number of unique visitors + page views]. Anyway, here are some jokes taken from various sources. Post some of your own if you have any ideas. Thanks.
1.
A hug leads to a kiss... A kiss
leads to a
lick... A
lick leads to a suck... And a suck leads to a
F***.
So tell me how many people you want to
hug after
you hear this cuz sex is like math... you
add the
bed... subtract the clothes... divide the
legs...
leave your solution... and pray you don't
multiply!
Haha...This is good...
Husband climbs on to the bed naked.
Wife: I have a headache.
Husband: Good! I've powdered it with
aspirin. U want to take it
orally or
as an injection?
Friends are like underwear, always near you.
Good friends are like condoms, always
protecting you.
Best friends are like Viagra, lift you up when
you are down.
What is common between a wife and a private
swimming pool??
Answer: The cost of maintenance is too high
compared to the time you
spend
inside them!!!
If I get any more jokes, I'll post em in this same post ASAP. Note that this blog is now nearly two years old, and the content has changed dramatically. In the starting of this blog, most of it was about movies and music. That was before I deleted the whole thing and started from scrap. The theme was dots. Then, I changed the whole thing when I downloaded Hello from Picassa. Most of the posts were pictures of BoA, actually all of them were pictures of BoA. Its basically the same. And then, I went back to movies but I had some entries from my journal. Finally, starting from the ending of last year, I began posting various different stuff, experimenting, and then I added the old message board. It was during this period of time that the web counter experienced a dramatic jump from 600 to 800 in a month. That's good for me. I got less than 50 before this. Then, the beginning of this month, I redesigned the whole blog, changed the msg board and completely reinvented it. Expect it to have more interactive posts and an even cooler skin soon enough. Project Beta 2.0 is coming out in May, followed by Version 3.0 if it is successful. Project Beta will feature polls, an all new blinking skin (working on this), a moving cursor, cool pictures, great links and a background song that will be changed every week. And if the counter reaches 2000 in 2 months, then Version 3.0 will be launched, which is basically the same as Project Beta, albeit a version with a cooler, darker skin and new themes every month. Expect a translucent title made up of different coloured blinking pixels, files for easier accessing of old posts, no advertisements, a few affiliate banners and an application for membership. Membership is RM 2~5 per month, and with it, you have unlimited access to the member options (able to post in the blog) and unlimited moderator options in three different forums, all under Minions Of Midgard, my first forum, and the one with the most number of posts and members. And here is some stuff for guys to brood on:
Find a girl who calls you immature in that
affectionate way instead of hot
or sexy,
who can't stand it when you hang up on her and
calls right back,
who would sit there for hours looking into your
eyes,
who doesn't care what you look like, but what's
inside counts the most,
Who looks at you with the twinkle in her eyes and
kisses you,
Wants to be with you in public, even if you wear
those old grass stained and ripped pants with the
bleached jersey like always,
Wait for the girl who is a constant reminder of your
happiness and joy, who makes you smiles just by
knowing she loves you back.
Wait for the girl who you give piggy back rides to in
public and she still is in view of her friends, while
she gets off and you hear her go: "you're the one
for me, for always"
And for girls,
Find a guy who calls you beautiful instead of hot,
who calls you back when you hang up on him,
who will stay awake just to watch you sleep.
Wait for the boy who kisses your forhead,
who wants to show you off to the world
when you are in your sweats,
who holds your hand in front of his friends,
who thinks you're just as pretty without makeup on.
Wait for the one who is constantly reminding you
of how much he cares about you
and how lucky he is to have you.
Wait for the one who turns to his friends and
says, "...that's her."
Editorials by Linkinwayne.
When was your first crush? Most probably, it was when you were in primary school. In fact, from a very young age, we have always tried to impress the opposite sex. That's what makes us humans. But, too often, we push aside the most important part of a person, the part of him inside, not his or her exterior.
Note that the quotes from LOTR are missing due to my stupid com. Here's another touching story:
John Blanchard stood up from the bench,
straightened his Army uniform, and studied the
crowd of people making their way through Grand
Central Station. He looked for the girl whose
heart he knew, but whose face he didn't, the girl
with the rose. His interest in her had begun
thirteen months before in a Florida library.
Taking a book off the shelf he found himself
intrigued, not with the words of the book, but
with the notes penciled in the margin. The soft
handwriting reflected a thoughtful soul and
insightful mind.
In front of the book, he discovered the previous
owner's name, Miss Hollis Maynell. With time and
effort he located her address. She lived in New
York City. He wrote her a letter introducing
himself and inviting her to correspond. The next
day he was shipped overseas for service in World
War II
During the next year and one-month the two grew
to
know each other through the mail. Each letter was
a seed falling on a fertile heart. A Romance was
budding. Blanchard requested a photograph, but
she
refused. She felt that if he really cared, it
wouldn't matter what she looked like.
When the day finally came for him to return from
Europe, they scheduled their first meeting - 7:00
pm at Grand Central Station in New York.
"You'll recognize me, " she wrote, "by the red
rose I'll be wearing on my lapel." So at 7:00 he
was in the station looking for a girl whose heart
he loved, but whose face he'd never seen.
I'll let Mr. Blanchard tell you what happened: A
young women was coming toward me, her figure
long
and slim. Her blonde hair lay back in curls from
her delicate ears; her eyes were blue as flowers.
Her lips and chin had a gentle firmness, and in
her pale green suit she was like springtime come
alive. I started toward her, entirely forgetting
to notice that she was not wearing a rose. As I
moved, a small, provocative smile curved her lips.
"Going my way, sailor?" she murmured. Almost
uncontrollably I made one step closer to her, and
then I saw Hollis Maynell. She was standing almost
directly behind the girl. A women well past 40,
she had graying hair tucked under a worn hat. She
was more than plump, her thick-ankled feet thrust
into low-heeled shoes. The girl in the green suit
was walking quickly away. I felt as though I split
in two, so keen was my desire to follow her, and
yet so deep was my longing for the women whose
spirit had truly companioned me and upheld my
own.
And there she stood. Her pale, plump face was
gentle and sensible, her gray eyes had a warm and
kindly twinkle. I did not hesitate. My fingers
gripped the small worn blue leather copy of the
book that was something precious, something
perhaps even better than love, a friendship for
which I had been and must ever be grateful.
I squared my shoulders and saluted and held out
the book to the women, even though while I spoke I
felt choked by the bitterness of my
disappointment. "I'm Lieutenant John Blanchard,
and you must be Miss Maynell. I am so glad you
could meet me; may I take you to dinner?"
The women's face broadened into a tolerant smile.
"I don't know what this is about, son," she
answered, "but the young lady in the green suit
who just went by, she begged me to wear this rose
on my coat. And she said if you were to ask me
out
to dinner, I should go and tell you that she is
waiting for you in the big restaurant across the
street. She said it was some kind of test!"
It's not difficult to understand and admire Miss
Maynell's wisdom. The true nature of a heart is
seen in it's response to the unattractive. "Tell
me whom you love," Houssaye wrote, "And I will
tell you who you are."
You must at least forward this sweet love story to
10-15 people or you will fail in your love life
and never find the right person for you
DRILLS!!!!
Yep, drills today. Then again, it was drills yesterday too. Heck, for all I know, its been drills forever! But that would be exaggerating. Oh well then, the only comfort is my biceps are cool and the abdominal muscles really show. Talk about work out. But no, I'm not about to do drills to gain muscles. Anyway, drills today was moderate, my skin suffered from a three degree burn. Ouch.
Moving away from the topic, I was browsing a few other blogs and woa-there sure are cool blogs around. There was one offering translation services and one more was about elvish. Sheesh, sure, you guys can go ahead and go crazy bout lotr, but please. You translated "Muck" wrongly, you dimwitted nimrod! Then, I came to one more using the same layout as my previous skin. Sick, that's the word for it. Now I know how sad my blog was. Then again, its still sad now. Hm... thinking back about scouts, some of the greatest moments were last year's GTKYC and Training Camp. That rocked more than the rest. It really did.
Web counter...approaching 800...woo...that should be great, I guess.
Are you guys aware of the number of foreign blogs? This is... freaky! Lets see, we have japanese, korean, chinese, indian, english of course, french and spanish. I guess there would be more. Ok, check this blog out: HERE Its by one philipino dudek. Here's another nice link. Its really well done and organized. This one is not that bad, one of those impromptu blogs made when you're left, but I like the layout. But for every good blog in this blogger world, there has to be a lame one with less than 10 views and has been going on for a month. Pure sadness. Howzabout this blog, classical blog. It has the perfect layout, cool use of the audio and good content.
Anyway, that's it for this period of time, currently tweaking some stuff on this blog.
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LOTR and Leadership
Random postings direct from LOTR movies.
There is no joy in winning an war. There is no joy in winning a fortress. There is only honour in keeping your fortress. Battle is cruel.The age of man is over. The time of the uruk has arrived. Down with Gondor, down with Rohan. All shall fade, all shall fade....To me, brave men. To me, brave elves. We shall yet hold our castle. Saruman has been defeated in his evil lair. Look to the North, Sauron is rising. We may yet win. We may yet win.
6000 spears. Less than half of what the elves have. 6000 will not be enough to break the ranks of the undead.The horses are restless. And the men are quiet. "I choose a mortal life"The light of the Evenstar is fading. As the power of the dark is growing, her power is fading. Her life depends on fate, goes by the power of the shadow. The shadow is growing, Aragorn. You're outnumbered. You need more men. Not this time. This time you stay, Gimli. Have you learnt nothing of the stubbornness of dwarves? We are coming with you. To the land of the dead. He leaves because he has no hope. He leaves because he must. We cannot defeat the army of Mordor. No, we cannot. But we will beat them in battle, nonetheless. I will have you smile again. Not grieve for those whose time has come. I do not fear death. That is something unheard of! An elf that will go underground, when a dwarf will not? It is a three days ride to Minas Tirith. And none of my riders will bear you as a burden. I want to fight! I will say no more. Ride with me. Ride! Ride now to Gondor! Who enters my domain? He who will release you. The dead do not suffer living people. You will suffer me. The way is shining. It was made by those who are dead. The way is shut. Now you must die. I summon you to fulfill your oath. None but the King of Gondor may command me. The Sword that was broken! Fight for us! And regain your honour! What say you? They had no honour in life, they have no honour now! What say you! Fear.... The city is reeked with it... Let us ease their pain... Release the prisoners! My line is dead! My line has ended! Rohan... Decepting us... They have betrayed me... Prepare for battle. Nazgul.... Hold them back! Keep your posts! Fight! What's that smell? Hurry! This way... Smeagol?! Over here... This is sticky! What is it! You can't see it? Oh yes.... you can't see it.... Smeagol? Smeagol?? Smeagol?! Sam... "And you Frodo Baggins... I give you the light of Elendir, our brightest star... May it be a light for you where all others fail..." Get back! "This task was appointed to you, Frodo of the Shire... If you do not find the way, no one will.." We shall burn... like the Heathen kings of old... Bring wood and oil! You are soldiers of Gondor! No matter what goes through those gates, you will stand firm! Mr. Frodo... No... Mr. Frodo! Wake up... Don't go before me... Mr. Frodo... Wake up... |
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GTKYC 05
Will write a full report when I get back.
"From the north, I bring warmth!" Jaya steps through the horseshoe, walking towards the center, a blazing brand held firmly in his arms. The fire lit the thick night, casting deep shadows on the high trees. The boyscouts hushed, staring at the figure, glowing from the burning intensity.
"From the south, I bring friendship!" I walk briskly from my corner of the horseshoe. I hold the staff tightly, watching the fire engulf the kero-basked lashing rope. I reach Jaya and hold it up to the end of his staff, the two flames touching eaching other, embracing in the dark night. The fire burns even brighting, lighting the entire horseshoe.
"From the east, I bring peace!" Pooven marches to us. The three tips are held up high, marking the glory and honour of being able to hold them. The fire rages into an inferno and the heat sears the boyscouts nearby but we hardly flinch. We welcome the heat, embracing it as our friend.
And then, "From the west, I hope this campfire will be the best!" And the fourth staff fits into the missing place and we are full again. We turn and put our staffs into the altar. The fire burns brightly, an intensity that will last far into the next afternoon. Andrew, Pooven, Jaya and I turn away and walk back towards our patrols.
And the mini campfire begins, the way it began so many years ago, the way it has always begun, year after year, 4 PLs entrusted with the honour of lighting up the mini campfire.
With that, I wish to say that the GTKYC was an experience unlike any other, unique in its own way.
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pROJECT:aLLE
It finally is here! Taken from last year's epic spellbounding book, project:alle, written by andrew and I, edited by Kok Kin and various other sources, this article is the original version of the book. Note: it is not as clear and interesting as the version on sale.
The transition from Microsoft Word to this blog has not been smooth, and some phrases and words have been cut off entirely. There are a few grammar mistakes.
The full version of pROJECT:aLLE is only RM30, and it contains the edited version, autographs, maps, glossary and a more detailed look at the universe and equipments involved in this story.
The next book in this series, Sorcerors of Nightwing (S.O.N.) is due to be released next month. It continues where PA left off, and will sell at RM40, due to the hardcover and extra costs. For booking, please contact me early. Latest update: This version uses VERY simple English, and has a LOT of grammer mistakes. This is NOT the book itself, it is just a rough copy, in fact I will be posting a sample of the real one soon. Not the whole thing mind you, that costs RM 30 in its glossy hardcover and cool illustrations.
Nzaebutlae brought the pod lower, barely skimming the barren earth. Showing off, the professor swung the craft down. The aircraft landed abruptly, a cloud of dust billowing through the air. A screeching noise pierced the stale air, making the scientist grit his teeth in pain. Something was wrong. Then the missile struck the ground, just a few feet away from the wrecked pod. Shrapnel and debris flew all over as the pod vibrated at an alarming rate. The plasma shell left a trail of white-hot concentrated fire. He had to leave. The mission was tremendously important, nowhere as important as his wife, but if he stayed, they would both die. The predators had arrived.
Tears streaming, Nzaebutlae stumbled out of the burning vehicle, glancing behind. The predators were gaining quickly. He stumbled over to an alley, infested with slime and centuries of age. Panting, he fumbled with the transporter clip, attaching it to the grimy wall. Click. He hung on, ready to hurtle through the complex networks to Earth. The footsteps were nearer. He could already feel their evil aura. Then it hit him. It was the wrong clip. It was the prototype. The clip disappeared in a sudden flash of blinding light, racing towards its set destination. Back at Zenofon, its creator was torn apart and devoured by the hungry predators. Then the Nucklavees, the savages, cloaked, blending in with the surroundings, their blue aura finally shimmering into darkness.
* * *
“Give me that,” said Hank. His brother, Neil Bushmir, shifted his weight to his other leg, adjusting his hand cast. He was understandably sweating, as Shomorra City was well known for its sweltering heat. Terrible, really. If not for the hefty profits, he would never have been in the middle of this burning oven. Behind him, Hank Bushmir grumbled something about the heat. The two brothers were criminal masterminds, but a certain incident had caused them to resort to conning. Neil was good at it. Very good.
“Get the papers, bro. Upcoming target,” he said suddenly, straightening his tie. The man was getting into a BMW. Weeks of relaxation lay ahead, he was sure of that. Approaching the man, Neil smoothly pulled out the proposal, explaining it. The city mayor was selling the city, so would he buy it? As an agent, he would give a very low price, continued Neil. The “target” turned out to be an undercover agent and spotted the fake immediately. Neil interpreted the officer’s betrayed expression right away and sped off down the street. The officer had whipped out a baton and was quickly gaining on them. Gasping for breath, the younger Bushmir dodged into an alley.
Hank followed, throwing the briefcase at the following officer. The cop was gaining, and fast. The brothers were cracked for the first time, unless they could somehow evade the agent. Neil had to admit, he was at his wit’s end. Then again, he was twelve.
Sounds of shots rang loudly over the heavy traffic, causing daily market bargainers to go into a stand still. Neil let loose a couple more shots at the agent, causing more chaos. Hank took the lead, bringing the pair across the river into more law enforcers. Stunned, he stood there with his mouth open in surprise. “We lost him”, said Neil trying to catch his breath He turned to his brother, still catching his breath and then he caught sight of the police. He too just stood there with his gap wide open.
“Put your hands in the air,” shouted one of the five police. They were closing in on the brothers. The pathway of the bridge to the other side was sealed. Their heart thumping, they slowly obeyed the orders. Neil caught sight of a gondola heading towards them and a light bulb lit up in his mind. Hank seemed to have read his mind. “Now slowly drop your weapons”, instructed that same police. “Look!” Neil then pointed to the back of the police. “No more games, boy,” said the police “put your weapons down and….” A man with an oar knocked the cop right into the river. Quickly, Hank disposed of the others with his neutrino blaster.
“Hey! Crichton my man!” said Hank slapping the young man’s back in perfect hip-hop fashion. “Glad you came,” said Neil, adjusting his hand cast. “How can I forget you guys?” smiled Crichton. “You helped me get this job.” “Hey, mind giving us a ride?” asked Neil, glancing behind. “Sure!”
The three of them got into the gondola. It was decorated for couples. It was quite a smooth ride even though there was a strong current. “Where to?”. “Just drop us over there,” said Neil. “Crichton? Crichton? Dude? Crichton!”
Crichton was lying flat, blood spurting from the chest. Hank saw the police standing by and some running after the gondola. The dead body was swept away by the current. Neil seized the oar from the body. Catching speed with the help of the stirring and current, the gondola was far from the police. Estimating the perfect time for them to get on shore and run, the brothers dodged for shelter underneath a bridge, evading the policemen, while the police followed the empty gondola down the river. The street was vacant, allowing the Bushmirs to make a run for the back streets.
“Stop! Police!” shouted a man in blue uniform. Almost out of their last breath, they forced their legs to bring them as far as possible from the inspector. Hank fired few long shots at the police’s direction, widening the gap in their escape. Hank and Neil were running zigzag all over the city. A sudden blind turn cost Hank to crash right into a girl. Hitting hard,Hank and Neil tripped, but they could see bright flashes of blue like a laser presentation and the alley blurred out as if the wind had blown away the colours to apply a smudge effect.
* * *
Having a heavy feeling as if a tumour had just built up in his head; eyes shut tight like a safe even though awake, he was trying to get out of a dream. He vaguely remembered seeing the whole alley decolourizing and travelling through a twilight zone, finally ending with a boom in total darkness. Suddenly the soft ground gave a nudge, throwing him off. Forcing his eyelids to open, able to he saw a hand coming into his direction …..
“Ouch!! What was that for?” exclaimed Hank, holding his face. “Don’t you know how to watch your way?” she said with a expression not unlike a hyena stalking its prey.
“Hold on babe. Let’s get to know each other first,” looking into her hazel eyes. “I’m Bushmir, Hank Bushmir.” “Don’t try to change the subjeccc…” her eyes strayed off towards Neil, resuming with “Who’s he?”. “The name’s Bushmir, Neil Bushmir,” he mumbled, eyeing the alien surroundings. “Oh, I’m Valerie,” she said, smiling. “Now just wait a blasted moment!” said Hank, squeezing between the two. “Oh, right!You have to apologize for knocking me back into this blasted alley!” shouted Valerie, all traces of the smile gone.
Neil sighed, looking around at the awesome scenery. “Where are we?” he thought inwardly, fingering his hand cast once again. The sky scrapers towered high into the sky; some low, some massive. While it looked like a normal city, Neil immediately dismissed the idea. This was another planet far from earth. Could it possibly mean that they actually travelled to another world? It was possible, considering time travel was already developing. “Why the sceptical looks?” asked Valerie teasingly. “How did ‘BUSHMIR’ lower himself that badly?” “Where is this place?” asked Hank. “By the climate and surroundings, I’m betting its Zenofon. It’s a metallic planet; built, not natural. It’s also a goods-trading centre,” answered Valerie, after a look around.
Neil was about to start exploring when an object caught his eye. It was a diary entitled ‘?????’. Flipping through the pages, his eyes caught a certain entry that was written in some sort of language; different even from the rest. The next page was the translation:
Day 64
I finally finished the clips for the Universal Alliance (UA). Planet Xanadu has freed itself from the ruling of the UA. Therefore the planet is able to travel off the orbits of the UA but is endangered by the predators. The clips are functioning and powerful enough to transport half a planet for an entire century or more…(there was a burn mark, blocking out a few words)..predators attacked…..transported avenue alle with the clip and onto a planet.
Neil shut the book, his mind racing with ideas. Planet Xanadu…Universal Alliance…transportation clip…it all fitted into place. Perhaps…Xanadu was Earth!
After scanning through the journal, he swiftly strode over casually towards Hank and Valerie. “Hey bro, Valerie’s gonna show us around Zenofon,” said Hank. “Want to munch on some alien delicacies?” asked Valerie. Neil nodded, his mind still deep in thought. Walking was a rough journey, for the red sand they were walking on was unstable. Neil’s eyes caught a few information on the billboards, linking the description with the diary he had found. Zenofon was filled with creatures of all kinds. “Fifty silver for a slave! Bargain buy!”, “apepoityh mlkjg(accessories, utilities) for sale!” rang the voices of traders who were busy auctioning their merchandises.
The natives were like humans but their ears dug deep into their skin and their skin was a creepy light blue. Neil finally took his eyes off the creatures, looking around the merchants. Suddenly, an object sped past him, brushing against his arm. “Hey!” Neil let out a startled cry. He quickly scanned the crowd for the culprit.
“There. It’s just a probe,” she pointed towards a rounded robot with wheels as its feet and not even up to the height of an average human’s height. “Hurry. Hurry. Step right up to wrestle the Obiaz,” it drawled in a monotone. Neil winced at the grating sound. “Hah! A quick-money scheme! Hey, robot! Let me at it!” yelled Hank suddenly, cracking his knuckles in anticipation. Then, a figure pushed through the crowd, a great towering brute. Hank stared.
It looked too old to put into words; an air of arrogance dancing in its eyes. In one swift jerk, it ripped off its shirt, revealing densely-packed plates of lava. The creature eyed its opponent, finally breaking into a grin. “I bet a 100 Zefons,” it laughed.
The two exponents circled each over. “Scared?” teased the Obiaz, grinning at his enemy’s height. “You wish!” replied Hank, concentrating on his opponent. No time for mind games now. Hank positioned his head lower while the Obiaz just stood there allowing him the first blow.
In one quick lunge, Hank struck the Obiaz right in the stomach. The ancient creature stumbled, momentarily winded by the leaping tackle. Then it recovered. No being had ever beaten it in battle before. This alien was about to be taught a lesson. Obiaz grinned, summoning his inner powers.
Hank eyed the Obiaz. Then, he attacked again, kicking the Obiaz from behind. As it turned, Hank leaped to the side, positioning himself for the final blow. He anticipated wrongly. A second too late, he realized the Obiaz’s next move. The creature jumped with full force, landing directly on Hank. The weight sandwiched Hank to the ground, his head by now whirling with colours. With a roar, Hank Bushmir shifted, gripping the Obiaz in an iron-like grip. The creature struggled but to no avail. Veins strained as never before as Hank bodily slammed the creature into the ground, driving him down with his full weight. The Obiaz gave a feeble cry and then lay still. The crowd was quiet. Then, the creature’s hand came up in a gesture of surrender. Yelling with joy, Hank joined his companions, collecting his winnings. The crowd was stunned, pushing for a look at the being that had defeated the almighty Obiaz.
* * *
Red liquid dripped from Hank’s papriquo (alien liquor). They were celebrating Hank’s victory over the Obiaz at a diner. Neil finished off his twenty-first mujde, a hard rock with various tastes. Hank and Valerie were drunk and had already fallen asleep. Sighing, Neil brought them to a nearby hotel. Then, he silently slipped out.
The leaders of Zenofon were the predators; so he could sell the clip to them for a planet. Bending down on his knees, he chanted ‘srotaderp’, maintaining full concentration. I have the clip that you want, he said, sending the mental statement to the Nucklavees. Moments later, they appeared.
“Why do you summon us?” roared a robed figure. Neil suppressed a shiver, straightening his hand cast. “I have the clip. I want a planet in exchange; a safe one,” he said, clenching the concealed clip. The shadowed creatures talked quietly among themselves before one finally drew back its hood. Neil was stunned. Its eyes were empty caverns of darkness; its entire face reeked of a putrid smell and pieces of flesh were hung together by tiny veins. Composing himself, Neil waited for the answer.
“We accept the deal,” replied the predator. “We shall give you a device to contact us. We will get the planet ready by tomorrow dawn. I shall await the clip,” it continued, replacing the hood. Very little negotiating tactics, thought Neil. Just straight to the point. How amateur. Neil nodded, turning to go. Then the predators were gone, without any flashes or sounds. Neil snickered, pocketing the device.
Hank blinked his eyes groggily. Neil was awake with a weird expression on his face. He seemed to be deep in thought about something. The older Bushmir sat up straight. He didn’t like this weird place, no matter how near it was like Earth. He cracked his knuckles and then went over to his younger brother. Neil, lost in thoughts, didn’t realize Hank was awake.
“Problems?” asked Hank, sitting down.. Neil jolted out of his thoughts, turning towards Hank. “Problems? All of us have problems, bro. But don’t worry; mine are no where too complicated to bother you. Anyway, we’d better wake Valerie,”said Neil, still thinking about the pact. It bothered him in a way, he was sure it couldn’t be that easy. Deals never were. Put it aside, he chided himself. He would find the loose end later.
Sighing, Neil sat down. Part of him wanted to help his bro and Valerie but the deal was important too. What if something happened to them? Then again, they could follow him, perhaps even rule with him. Toying with the idea, Neil faced the other two. “We’d better move. Unless you want to stay in this strange world, of course,” he told them, heading towards the alley. He wouldn’t give the clip to those foul creatures; not until they reached Earth again. Then he would be in control of the pact.
Quickening his pace, Neil stepped into the alley, switching the clip on. Hank and Valerie, still drowsy with sleep, followed. They felt the jolting sensation again, as a myriad of shimmering blue lights flickered before their eyes. Neil closed his eyes as waves of nausea swept over him. He just had too much to think about. Being a child prodigy did have its downsides.
All of a sudden, they halted. They were still in Zenofon. Neil blinked in surprise, panic building up slowly. It didn’t work! Maybe…they couldn’t go back. Before Neil could think any longer, a hard blow on the back of his head closed down all thoughts. He slipped into darkness, blacking out. Hank grabbed the assaulter, flinging him into a wall. He was cloaked in robes, his face bathed in the shadows of his ragged hood. Hank took a step closer. Then, Valerie uttered a soft cry of surprise. There were even more of them coming. Who were they?
Hank dodged the attacks, landing a blow of his own on one of his opponent. The creature took a step back. Hank took another swing, just before yet another of the things appeared. Hank quickly danced out of the way. He then smoothly whipped out his Neutrino blaster, sending a blast of concentrated plasma right into the approaching assailants. Those creatures were certainly hardy. The blow could have knocked down a rhino; but the creatures just kept on coming. Predators, Hank decided, were built to withstand and survive. Then again, so was Hank. All Bushmirs were.
Hank heard a groan and turned. It was his younger brother, slowly getting up from the floor. The robed attackers turned to Neil too. “What’s...?” Neil uttered just before the creatures picked him up, dashing away with surprising agility. Hank was momentarily stunned. Then his training kicked in. He raced towards the predators, slamming his shoulders into one. His opponent fell backwards, then picked itself up. A fist whooshed past Hank. Grinning, Hank caught the weak attempt and flung the attacker judo-like into the floor. The others were already escaping. They were far ahead and moving far too swiftly for Hank to catch up.
* * *
Neil struggled to get free of the iron-like holds. “Treachery!” he yelled, hitting one of the predators. Their putrid breath filled the air, choking Neil. Without warning, they suddenly let go. Neil smashed into the floor in a flailing heap. He quickly got up, controlling his anger.
“I know what you want,” he managed to say, though his voice was choked with fear and he was quivering unprofessionally. “The transporter,” Neil continued “I have the clip. Here, take it. Then give me a craft to return to Earth. Oh, and once I reach home, I shall take over a planet of my choice. Thank you very much.” Neil clenched his fist. How dare they break the pact, making him look like an idiot?
The Nucklavees chattered excitedly at the sight of the clip. It was a fake, of course, but they had no way of knowing. In fact, it even emitted the flashing light when activated. One of the predators, possibly the leader, took the clip and then pointed at an aircraft nearby. Smiling, Neil strolled towards it and then activated the craft. Dimwits, he thought inwardly. With a loud roar and a gigantic cloud of smoke, the vehicle shot off at a shocking speed, just a few inches away from the ground. After a short while of manoeuvring, his brother and Valerie came into sight. He smiled broadly, landing the craft.
“Greetings, fellow humans. I am happy to say that I gave those creatures a fake clip. They’re obviously a few brain cells too short to face the like of me,” bragged Neil. Valerie giggled, nodding in approval. Something struck Neil as wrong but he couldn’t place it. Before they had all got into the craft, a roaring sound hurtled towards them. Frightened, Neil glanced at the source of the noise. All he could see were billowing clouds of smoke and a dim blue light. It was them.
Neil frantically jumped into the cockpit, jabbing a few buttons at random before clutching the throttle. Hank and Valerie hurriedly followed. The Nucklavees arrived faster than he thought, the gigantic ship smashing into the back part of the craft. Hank and Valerie were thrown out by the impact while Neil hung onto the throttle. This couldn’t be happening! He couldn’t lose! He searched for something, anything that could help. The predators were already disembarking. Then he remembered. Grabbing the handle, Neil pulled out his Neutrino prototype. Fumbling with the dial, he squeezed the trigger and held it, all the while aiming at the Nucklavees. The blaster vibrated vigorously, a long stream of plasma exploding from the nozzle. The predators screamed in pain as they were knocked backwards by the force.
There was no time to save the other two. But he couldn’t leave them to die! Never mind, he would come back. And woe betide anyone who dare oppose him. He jerked the throttle forward, the craft zooming away from the wreckage. Then he steered into the sky, towards the planets awaiting him.
* * *
A long week had passed since Hank and Valerie had been caught. They might be dead. If they were, the predators would pay even more severely. Neil pushed the thought out of his mind, concentrating on the makeshift rocket he was building. It was quite primitive, only having basic functions. But it would have to do. The other weapons were slightly better, especially the latest Neutrino blaster. No more plasma for him, what he needed was laser, strong enough to slice the blasted creatures into many pieces. He had the clip! Let them learn who was really in power! Putting in the final microfilament, Neil strapped on the helmet.
“Goodbye, you arrogant space beings. Bushmir is here!” he shouted. Neil got into the rocket, twiddling the tiny stick. It shot off in a trail of smoke, the pressure slowly building up. Neil’s anti-pressure helmet was straining against the G-force, with loud screeches filling the air. Neil closed his eyes and set the dial to Zenofon, all the time holding his Neutrino blaster.
Neil landed in an amazing display of fireworks, sparks jumping from broken wires. Coughing, the teenager stepped out, unnerved. Then he saw them - the predators. With a grin on his mouth, Neil fingered the laser pistol. Turning away, Neil ran towards the two familiar faces. The predators were stunned but they quickly recovered. Neil unlocked his companion’s chains before turning towards the Nucklavees. Before they could approach, he let loose a burst of laser. The victim had barely disintegrated before Neil took out a staff. The enraged teenager swirled the staff, hitting two opponents at once. Grunting, Hank joined in the fight.
“No! This is my fight!” yelled Neil suddenly, eyes ablaze with anger. Hank backed off. Spinning the staff again, Neil speared a Nucklavee. Two others approached from behind. Neil took another shot. Over the loud roar, he disposed of the other predators with his Neutrino plasma blaster. The leader was unscathed and no amount of attack caused any damage. Neil finally jumped into the rocket, waving goodbye to the head of the Nucklavees.
The following hour was ‘story telling time’ as they related their stories. Hank and Valerie exchanged glances as Neil talked about the clip. Exhausted at last, Neil sat down, taking a sip of water. “Can someone pass me that knife? I need to cut this extra piece of bandage,” said Neil, adjusting his cast.
Hank and Valerie exchanged glances again. “Here it is!” said Valerie, gripping the knife tightly. Neil caught the expression. “Hey…” he broke off as Valerie brought the knife down. He jumped aside, heart thumping wildly. “Valerie!” he screamed, warding off the attacks. “Hank, help me!” he yelled, his heart beating at an incredible rate. Then he saw Hank’s face. No! This couldn’t be happening! Neil’s mind raced with thoughts as he slowly backed off from the two. He gripped his Neutrino blaster. Before he could lift it, Hank held him in a ‘bearhug’, while Valerie brought the knife down. Neil gave a final sob, then slumped down; blood spurting unhalted. He felt no pain, just coldness; more intense than any coldness he had ever experienced. It was too cold to think; his body numbed by the chill. Then the world dissipated into darkness and the coldness was no more.
Valerie looked stunned. Then, she composed herself, discussing the matter of the clip. But even that matter soon ran out. A chilling silence followed. Valerie occasionally glanced at Neil’s dead body. Stopping a sob, Valerie broke the silence, saying “For the last time, I am in charge of the clip. I killed him so I get the bigger share.” Hank kept quiet, scared that Valerie would vanish; leaving him with nothing.
They were in silence for the rest of the trip and the terrible stench of the dead accompanied them through out the whole trip.
* * *
The western sky had darkened, as the moon set in. Streaks of dying yellow and orange pierced through the graying sky; thick clouds of ash and dust billowing through the air. Hank blinked a few times, dispelling the floating debris with a loud cough. He was feeling uncomfortable, but it had nothing to do with the weather.
The unformed plan flitted through his mind, entangled in the vines of greed. He gripped his Neutrino blaster for comfort, feeling the familiar coolness and firm grip. Then he remembered its creator, Neil. He quickly released his grip. Should he do it? He had already murdered once, he thought, trying to console himself. Second times are always easier. Gripping the pistol tightly, he spun around, aiming the triple nozzles at Valerie.
“Huh? What’s..Hank! What are you..!” she screamed, her eyes opening wide in horror. With a small kick, the liquid cooler released a burst of plasma, leaving a searing trail of heat. And dust. Nothing else. Sniffing, Hank Bushmir pocketed the weapon. He would not be consumed by guilt, not at so pivotal a moment. It was time to carry out his plan. Now, who’s the genius, Neil? Who, indeed, he laughed to himself, his eyes sparkling with greed. Then his eyes trailed towards the two dead bodies. The smile died at his lips.
* * *
Ten years passed in a blink of an eye and Hank had fulfilled his manic dream, thanks to his scrawny assistants. Hank was already the ruler of the four largest planets in the universe, Planet Drawde, Planet Werdna, Planet Enyaw and Planet Nevoop. The predators’ numbers had multiplied astonishingly, thriving on the life of riches and luxury. There remained just one more planet, one that he had eyes on for a long time. Planet G-Nop was enormous, its bulk more massive than all his planets combined. It had millions of savages, predators, or so the rumours said. No being had ever invented technology strong enough to travel there and back. Other than him, of course. He would conquer it on his own, savour his final victory before getting rid of the troublesome predators. They were too many and might grow unruly. The night before his departure, all the predators gathered at the place where Hank was going to leave. After saying his goodbyes, he held the chip in his hand, closed his eyes and was transported there in the blink of an eye. When he reached there, he put the chip in his pocket and when he opened his eyes, he was baffled.
The planet was beautiful, rich in colours, too many of them to figure out. For Hank, there were no words to describe the awesome beauty. It was the planet of his desire. But something was funny around there; there were no people and also no predators! He used his special device to detect if there were any life forms on the planet. Shockingly, there was nothing! Hank smiled to himself and jumped with joy. “Victory is mine!” he thundered, roaring with laughter. “It just makes my work so easy” he said to himself.
By now, all that remained was to go back, call his predators and build his base here. Grinning in anticipation, he held the clip and readied himself for the jerking motion. Nothing happened. He flipped the clip again, checking whether it was the right one. It was. He decided to give it another go. Holding the clip, he closed his eyes. He was still there!
Frightened, Hank raked his brains, trying to figure out the reason. 10 years ago, when he asked Neil, his late brother, to tell him about the clip, there was one thing Neil forgot to mention. When you enter the tenth year, you can only use the clip once, then it automatically dysfunctions. Hank was sweating by now. He had no idea whatsoever of what to do.
He tried over and over again to use the clip, but it still did not work. His predators had no way of knowing what had happened. They could not do anything because their only transportation was the clip, and Hank had the clip. He was the only one on the planet. After a few days of sheer torture and wandering, Hank finally starved to death, the faces of his victims laughing at him.
As for the predators, they slowly met their demise one by one as they were stranded; completely cut off from the other members of the UA. The Nucklavee head was the last to die, pressing the button of the long-dead communicator.
And so ends the story of pROJECT:aLLE, but not necessarily the complete ending of the whole history. For the legend of the curse of the 5 planets remains even until now. Have you ever wondered why the Olympics have 5 rings as its logo?
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SEA FORENSICS!!!!!
This is a brief report on what happened at ISKL during the SEA Forenscics. A detailed report will be sold at only RM5, or RM3 when bought together with the Quotations Go Without Saying (both are by andrew and I). I'll be updating this article every week so keep a look out for the latest posts.
WEDNESDAY-It starts. 8.00- I reached ISKL. Crap, its starts at 7.30!!!! I rushed up the stairs to the third floor, room 303. Oh god, the debate had already started. Never mind, mine is later on. Go, Jon, go! Oh, and Wilson. Too bad they were against last years' winners. Oh well, they did good anyway. Picked up some important tips and understood the style. Note: from now on, the affirmative side will be referred to as A and the negative N. Anyway, they lost. Oh, well. 9.30- Egads, Oratory time! Andrew and I rushed to the loft, reciting under our breath. Or at least, that's what I did. Anyway, I entered Loft number 3, Adam entering with me for support. Then, Miss Shanti came in. I heard the oratories about sleep and heroes and my heart sank. Oh, crap. I have to do this! Then, it was my turn. I grabbed the podium but it shook so violently that I lifted my hands slightly on top of it. In the end, I did it well and got encouraging smiles from the judges.
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SEA Forenscics.
Okay, I know I didn't win. Heck, I didn't even get into Quarters. But considering I practiced once in 4 days and hardly memorised the first paragraph, dang, I did well. It's all about exposure, and picking up the way these winners do their oratory. I've gathered the general idea of how the original oratory competition goes, and hopefully next year, I'll do better. My objective for next year is: debates semis, oratory finals, impromptu semis. This may seem drastic, but these three days at ISKL has changed my perspective...and indeed, I may have a chance.
Anyway, a more detailed account (up to what I did every minute) will be posted in a series.
One of the greatest thing about Forenscics was the school itself. The International School of Kuala Lumpur, with students in blue shirts, hot chicks, REALLY hot chicks, and a really cool layout. I mean, check out the compound! It's like a mini town...the library is arranged like a bookstore with dozens of computers, the rooms are compact and fully air-conditioned, the stairs and walls plastered with quotes, drawings, paintings, projects and words, the canteen stocking superb food (Garlic bread!!!><). What more could a person want? The whole place was compact, the roofs covered and shaded the entire compound. There were high tech boards, coupled with hot chicks(oops...). Em, I think that's what struck me the most. Japanese chicks. ^^. Sh*t, I've gotta visit Japan sometime soon. Anyway, expect a full account soon. Thanks and see ya!
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continued from training camp..
Gabai, oh gabai... I was once asked, if you were given a chance, will you return. My answer at that time was, hell yeah, I'd return and burn the whole friking place down. But as I think back about the experiences, I guess, yeah, I'd go back there and go through everything again. I can clearly recall the suffering and torture we endured, but... deep down inside, I long for Gabai once again. Here is what happened on the monday during training camp:
Lonely Monday
sigh....... by monday morning we were all tired beyond anything we had ever felt, but man! lakendra started the countdown and we realized we barely had two more days to go before we got out of the god-forsaken place! Haha! That's what I call a spirit lifter! Coupled with the fact that we were trailing behind miserably, the Bats members finally got that extra energy. In a burst of skills, we( Andrew and I)finished the platform( with the help of Pooven and Poh) before any of the other members had even woke up!7 am- A few sleepyheads had FINALLY woken up. We lit up a fire using scrap lashing rope, then we cooked some Maggi and Ovaltine. After the satisfying meal, Andrew and I fell asleep on the platform while Pooven went to the dome tent.
8am- The screech blow of a whistle jolted all of us awake. We rushed towards the two ATLs for our morning exercise. We still had an hour before the morning inspection so Pooven and I made the equipment rack when we arrived back at our campsite. Satisfied with our speed, all of us took a well deserved rest(as in slowing down) while cleaning up the campsite. We then visited Lizards' campsite under the pretence of using their side of the river. This was partly true as the water there was FAR cleaner than ours. After a satisfying dip in the river, we travelled back to our campsite, quickly changing for our morning inspection. There was still around 15 minutes after changing so I stole down to clean my golok. The chips were apparent and it was covered with rust, but by the time I'd finished, it looked brand new; albeit one with a slightly blunt tip. The inspection came and went, resulting in us beating Lizards by 5 points. Our spirits dropped a notch. We were still way behind them.12am-- We started preparing for our mini campfire. I planned a solo breakdance but just couldn't get a head start on anything else. The pressure nearly popped my veins. My last real meal was a burger sometime on Saturday. Everything else was shared. Finally, I decided to clean my golok while i brooded. It was broken. After that, my brain kind of short circuited for an hour. TPLs never mope too long though. An hour later, I was back in business with an idea for sketch. Too bad my boyscouts were so incompetent. That's when I blew it completely. We had 3 hours to go, including the time needed to go down, chop wood and bring the logs. My patrol dragged behind as a result of their stupidity. Damn it, I know you're tired, but how the f*ck do you think I'm feeling?! I'm the one who's always up, I'm the one who's working every fu*king second of my time here! You bastards are just sleeping and hanging around! HOW THE F*CK DO YOU THINK THAT MAKES ME FEEL?
I was about to cut off their frigging heads and pierce them on a stick. Luckily, Chien Chyi and my form two batch restrained me.
Fast forward to tuesday in the next post....
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