Stories

All of these lines across my face
Tell you the story of who I am
So many stories of where I've been
And how I got to where I am

But these stories don't mean anything
When you've got no one to tell them to

Word of the Day

The word of the day is Altruism:

–noun

1. the principle or practice of unselfish concern for or devotion to the welfare of others (opposed to egoism ).

2. Animal Behavior. behavior by an animal that may be to its disadvantage but that benefits others of its kind, as a warning cry that reveals the location of the caller to a predator.

3. Putting stupid people out of their misery so the rest of us can flourish.

Road Rage

When someone is driving down the road at 75 miles per hour with a cell phone crammed against their ear, what they are REALLY doing is broadcasting with a loud clear voice to anyone that can see them:

"Your life is not worth my phone call."

Hang the fuck up and drive.

!

Thom: Dude, she was freakin hot. I think I heard the chorus of sweet sweet angels.
Flake: No, it was Satan's sweet sweet baritone.

Faith

The question is not how far. The question is do you have the constitution and the depth of faith to go as far as is needed?

Actual conversation

*nameless person*: "Stop bein' so damn lazy about it. Twenty five and you practically fail at being an adult."

flake: "I'm going to go play video games now."

Soccer

Today I had Soccer explained in the best way possible. This girl said: "I figured out how Soccer works. It's simple: you just pretend the soccer ball is your long-lost lover and you hustle over to it come hell or high water and let no one get in your way.

Then when you get to it, you remember why you left that lover in the first place and kick that sum'bitch far and hard as you can."

The last 30 minutes of work, nothing was productive. Too much laughter.

The Green Fields of France

Oh how do you do, young Willy McBride
Do you mind if I sit here down by your graveside
And rest for a while in the warm summer sun
I've been walking all day, and I'm nearly done
And I see by your gravestone you were only nineteen
When you joined the great falling in 1916
Well I hope you died quick
And I hope you died clean
Or Willy McBride, was is it slow and obscene

Did they beat the drums slowly
Did they play the fife lowly
Did they sound the death march as they lowered you down
Did the band play the last post and chorus
Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest

And did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind
In some loyal heart is your memory enshrined
And though you died back in 1916
To that loyal heart you're forever nineteen
Or are you a stranger without even a name
Forever enshrined behind some old glass pane
In an old photograph torn, tattered, and stained
And faded to yellow in a brown leather frame

Did they beat the drums slowly
Did they play the fife lowly
Did they sound the death march as they lowered you down
Did the band play the last post and chorus
Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest

The sun shining down on these green fields of France
The warm wind blows gently and the red poppies dance
The trenches have vanished long under the plow
No gas, no barbed wire, no guns firing now
But here in this graveyard that's still no mans land
The countless white crosses in mute witness stand
To man's blind indifference to his fellow man
And a whole generation were butchered and damned

Did they beat the drums slowly
Did they play the fife lowly
Did they sound the death march as they lowered you down
Did the band play the last post and chorus
Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest

And I can't help but wonder oh Willy McBride
Do all those who lie here know why they died
Did you really believe them when they told you the cause
Did you really believe that this war would end wars
Well the suffering, the sorrow, the glory, the shame
The killing and dying it was all done in vain
Oh Willy McBride it all happened again
And again, and again, and again, and again

Dropkick Murphys

Shut up, brain...!

OR I'LL STAB YOU WITH A Q-TIP!

Rice.

wtf.

Angles.

I blame the soccerball. It talks to me. Flaming Barrel rolls.

Someone once asked me, if I could know the date and time when I would die, would I *want* to know? I said, no. But I WOULD want to know how many people I take out with me when I go. Anything less than double digits is a wasted effort.

So I'm going to be 25 soon. I don't feel old. When I'm 40, I won't feel old. I'm too immature at heart to ever feel old. But. Why is it I look around at people barely older than I am and they have so much more? And please. Don't think I'm someone who places value on materialism. I refer to "the much more" in terms of those things that are valuable beyond words.

I feel left behind.

Whatever.

I Have the Sneaking Suspicion...

... that one day, my life is going to come to an end. Durrh. Not just any end. It's going to be in a moment of pure clarity in which, I look back and I trace back each event, carefully, in turn, one at a time, E back to D, D back to C, C to B, etc etc until I get to the point where the one decision that fucked my life over completely for the next 27 years...

And that one moment is going to have something to do with Fungles.

My life flashing before my eyes will resemble a Dresden File. At least I'll be entertained when I die.

What where and why? Mullosc.

A giant sandstorm/cloud/manifestation of pure evil has descended on Salt Lake today. It seems rather out of the ordinary to me, that the entire valley appears to be coalesced in an opaque brownish cloud that LOOKS like a cloud but is far too sinister, but no one else seems to really care. Either aliens have landed and begun their slow invasion of our minds and bodies by corroding our insides with dust, or the Missionaries dusted off their shoes onto the entire valley, in which case; God help us all. Which is ironic, given the circumstances. See what I did there? Theological pun.

Sickness sucks. Specially being poisoned via bad food or a 24 hour bug (I have my suspicions) But I love trying to explain things to people when they would rather not hear it or rather, have already made up their mind as to the reasoning behind truth as they perceive it. In Laman's layman's terms, its frustrating to a ninth level of hellish power squared when you try and give a reason to someone who simply won't believe you. So... What's the point of rationalizing or defending yourself if the other person isn't open to that reasoning? Close-minded people are mind-boggling. Literally. No, literally. Their mind is scrambled because its so closed off nothing gets in or out and it scrambles it up much like those eggs in those early "This is your brain, this is your brain on drugs" commercials that DARE hashed out in the early 90s to stunt kids from thinking Drugs were the fun thing to do, even though Fungles and Napoleon himself know where the hell kids get the money to purchase expensive, dangerous narcotics. Hook em young, they say, but what's the point if all you get is a pocketful of change. HOW DO YOU SLEEP AT NIGHT YOU DRUG DEALERS, PEDDLING YOUR BOY-TRODDING WARES FROM ICE CREAM TRUCKS LIKE EVER SO SWEET-TASTING BERRIES OF LIFE THAT MY BEAr may or may not have eaten last month.

So I want a puppy, and I'm going to name him Erlking. Why? Cuz it sounds f#$%ing badass.

Got to talk to the DEA today. They basically listed the various ways they will break your kneecaps and kill all your pets should the cell within your brain even consider the notion of formulating a plan of shifting even one degree closer to the other cell that could spark the imagining of stealing said drug from said workplace. The DEA doesn't fuck around, man. They will kill you. Know what else will kill you? Philly Cheese Steak sandwiches from the Dennys on 45th south exit off I-15 in Salt Lake City / Taylorsville area. Sons of bitches.

Warlocks used to be OP, but they aren't anymore; quite the opposite. I wonder if this is something Blizzard intended. It seems all classes that used to be overpowered are now slipping under the radar and Blizz iz conveniently not listening to any constructive criticism whines, rants, bitches, threats or bribes by millions of players that think things aren't as they used to be. And I can't help but wonder, despite how much it hurts my eXistence to do so, if Blizz doesn't care because a class was OP in the past. Think about it. A guy who dominated everyone for 2 years running suddenly complains he's too weak. Sounds like a lot of whining doesn't it. I suppose Blizzard looks at things from a broader spectrum, which would make sense, given all their goddamn jerk-knee changes to the game reflects the fact that no one, not even a distant relative or retarded gerbil, among Blizzards employees even plays the game or has ever played it in the past so they relatively no clue what needs fixing anyway. All they know = 20 million people like their stupid Ret Pallies and Death Knights and that brings in the money. Why fix anything else? The name of the Business game is make big bucks, and by the official "rules", blizzard is winning. They shut down countless other MMOs: Guild Wars ( I think, but its not like anyone cared about that game anyway) Matrix Online, Age of Conan, countless free MMOs, Hellgate London (not significant in anyway given what a spectacular monument of pure FAILBOT that it was) so on and so forth.

Oh, and some guy said I smelled funny at work today. Can you believe the rude NERVE of that guy? What an ass.

Guess what Dennys?!

You're on my list of flaming-barrel roll targets, you rotten food serving, pieces of purple monkey shit.

What? 7 hours of puking nothing and diarrhea runs would make anyone cranky. And this costs me Overtime at work... FFFFFFFFFF

As I Was Walking...

... I thought I saw the ghost of Michael Jackson calling out to me the other day. Turned out to be a dead raccoon and the sound I heard was two sparrows mating midflight while the metal gates creaked open to let me through security, whom is staffed by one of the hottest women I've seen in a long time. I'm tempted to yoink some sticks just to see what might happen.

The amount of news covering Michael Jackson always bothered me. I find it disturbing how in the end, someone can have ani-morphed into something completely opposite of what they used to be, but then when they die turn into some sort of iconic new media God even if its only for a minimum amount of time on the news, but lets face it, the average american attention span isn't very long at all, so the media need to be fast at whatever they do. I keep seeing stuff in papers or on TV about paraphenalia and other shit collectibles like old discs that people stopped buying 10 years ago, but they think people might want now. Or stamps. MJ stamps. Wow. Really? It's enough to make you want to punch a chicken, but don't punch it too much, lest it summon angry hordes of nigh-indestructible demonspawn of feathers after you.

Even if all the proceeds from these sales go directly to charities that help starving monkeys in Africa, retarded goat children in Checkohungarslavialand or to feed the mongol hordes that have recently taken over the Moon, the fact doesn't change that organizations are capitalizing on MJ's death. His DEATH. IF they tried to suddenly hype shit for no reason when he was alive, none of it would've sold. His death brought this about, this sudden spark of renewed interest in albums that fell off the top "charts" over a decade ago. No disrespect to the "King of Pop", more like a cucumber in the eye of the morons who elevated death into some sort of glorified state of animated magnificence all by itself for the news.

http://www.xkcd.com/610/ We're all so damn unique, it's frighteningly normal.

I had a dream that Zack Fair was a praying Mantis and Cloud Strife was some sort of aphid and were duking it out inside of one of those little plastic baubles out of 25c coin machines with some near useless piece of melted plastic that is supposed to resmble a toy inside. They both used the same sword, so it was hard to tell them apart, but one of them started to cast a 30 minute long summon sequence upon which my brain promptly fell asleep. INSIDE the dream.

The glass is either half-full or half-empty, but mine has a crack in it and I'm pissed about that.

A near angry neanderthal, possibly Scottish, shouted "UNLEASH YO RAGE" once and it made me wonder how a human being can 'bottle' up their rage to the point where it might need be 'unleashed'. The funny thing about anger is if you let it out in a steady trickle, it not only makes other people intimidated (annoyed) by your presence, you never feel full of rage at all. Plus anger is a very useful tool that can be used in your day-to-day transactions. I've seen angry people do all sorts of amazing things, from killing armies, to killing armies of undead demon things, to ripping people apart with their extra invisible hands. See what I mean? Death in the media. Gaw!!!

Speaking of death: I want to die doing a flaming Barrel Roll while flinging sharpened mullosc shells like ninja stars at a gaggle of Blizzard employees while the 1812 overture roars in the background. If you're going to go out, go out with a Bang. Or an Explosion.

Or a barrel roll

My novel is off the shelf and back into the Typewriter. Future updates as events warrant.

"Many Bothans died to bring us this information..." Well, maybe they weren't very good spies then, were they, Professor Failbot?

I saw a car wrecked on the side of the road, but the blinding force of joy and ultimate cumulation of Schadenfreude emanating from my magnificent smile that causes rainbows and unicorns to hide their faces in shame made me drive right past him. Besides, I doubt he would've wanted to listen to me laugh at him while trying to help. My desire to be a good person is dwarfed only by my undying hatred for the occupants of the freeway, even the innocent ones.

Men and women are different creatures. Though we're both (technically) humans, we're very different from one another. And rather than expend gratuitious amounts of mental energy trying to figure out why we're so different (Ki), I just lazily accept that things are the way they are and move on. And while women have a lot going for them, I have to say that one amazing reason to be a man is simply just being able to stroke your beard. Few things are as satisfying as sitting around with a beard like the guys on ZZ top, the amish farmer or Santa Claus and raking your fingers through it while reminiscing on the meaning of life. Ladies, want a great way to eliminate stress from your life? Grow a beard. It will cut all guys out of your life AND give you a surefire way to just relax in the evening. "Problems? Stroke a beard." Catch-phrase is patent pending. (Ki: I do not mock your intelligence nor vigorous study of all things, including Social Psychology. If I had kids, I'd do the same thing)

Work is funny. A lot of people don't like having to shred the garbage in the back of Lab, but I actually enjoy doing it. It's kinda fun throwing tons of garbage bags onto a conveyor, let them slip slowly into a giant bowl that resembles the Kraken's Maw and watching the jaws of steel gnash up the bags in under two seconds. When I stand on top of the ladder, I pretend I'm tossing bound and gagged infidel prisoners onto a torture device before being messily devoured by my heinous pet creature while their screams form a macabre symphony of the night for me to dance to. It's very rewarding. No pun intended for comparing people to garbage.

If I had the money, I'd have a fish tank the size of a football field in which I'd keep my pet Kraken. I'd name him 'Cthulu Fthagn', or just 'Legs' for short. Feeding would be a bitch, but raising cattle is easy, right? His tank would be right next to Japeth the singing Goat "An avalanche is coming and I do not feel prepar-r-r-red" and the bamboo hut that houses the attack-squad of Killer Koala Bears armed with tiny rapiers.

Oh, and for the record: when you're at work and you threaten to stab your roommate in the face with a pair of scissors, make sure your co-workers know that he, in fact, is your roommate. It makes the situation marginally less awkward.

And when the room-Operator tells you not to put your head in the Bowl during a run, for Gods sake, DON'T DO IT.

If I Had A Million Dollars...

... I'd sucker punch Miley Cyrus right in the f*#$%in' eye, then use the 999,991 dollars on a lawyer to counter the subsequent suing-of-my-ass case for assault.

Then I'd use the remaining tidbits of cash to take her out on a cheap date by way of apology. Burger and fries good enough for you?!

When in the bathroom, I tugged the TP a bit too hard and it unrolled onto the floor. Unbeknownst to me, a lil fuzzy spider was chillin' there, minding his own business and probably got stuck up in the paper when I grabbed it. To this day, I can honestly say that I wiped my ass with a spider once. Take that ya home-invading little wanker.

Drivers are bad. Plain and simple. There are no good drivers. Just bad and worse drivers. Most people probably don't deserve their license anymore, having grown too damn lax over the years without caveat for safety or their own fuggin' mortality. Having conveniently forgetten all the rules they painstakingly learned to get their license in the first place, they now mock the very system that drivers use these days by doing whatever they damn well please.

I honestly can't tell if it's honest-to-goodness fucking stupidity, or if it's just a lack of awareness of their own mortality. Either way, anytime God wants to rip the roads out of the earth and watch the morons other drivers flounder about helplessly without law or the machine to tell them what to do, He's game to do so.

Or maybe I'm just a vindictive asshole that wishes ill of the entire human race. I don't even know.

...

I abhor the internet. That is all.

Disturbing

The depths of depravity of the internet continue to astound me. My warlocks name is Rùne.

/3 [Chat] [Rùne]: The thing I like least about PvP is that, when you raid the other factions towns, you can't murder their children.
/3 [Chat] [Aelaira]: killing npc kids, why would you wanna do that?
/3 [Chat] [Rùne]: Because being evil is fun. And it would make pillaging and plundering enemy towns a lot more fulfilling.
/3 [Chat] [Aelaira]: not raping their women ranks below murdering their kids?
/3 [Chat] [Rùne]: I would take what I can get. 'Sides, as a Female Undead, I'm ill-equipped to do any raping.
/3 [Chat] [Aelaira]: strap on
[Zali] whispers you: You're disgusting.

/4 [Private] [Rùne]: Kall I have problems.
/4 [Private] [Kall]: I know


What? I never said I didn't contribute to it.

Monster

The place. The man. One face, two face. He, an ordinary man like most ordinary people. He had his life, his home. The place he lived, the things he did. Everyone. His trials, his troubles, his lies, his truths, his secrets, his strengths.

The place behind the willow tree, where he felt he was secure. And in it’s base, the tiny prison he escaped should the need come. That prison, of earthen bars and dreams that sleep, in it, he found peace. Unhealthy maybe, that darkness, but the prison was his escape. A prison for the outside world. For in the man, lurked a beast. A monster that threatened his mind, his heart, his law, his chaos. No one knew this monster, not a soul save he. He feared it, he feared what it made him feel, he feared that absence, that lack of light.

Time after time, when the shadows sulked and the madness crept in, he escaped to his prison and the monster arrived. There he would escape and no harm came to the world. But in his mind, that damaged mind, he knew no one would be hurt. That prison was his sanctuary, it protected him. It protected him.

Strange years when the wind did blow, and the howl of the monster came, but to the man's surprise, beneath the willow tree, his prison was no longer there. Broken, shattered and tossed to the wind, by chance or by design Fate had spoken. He didn’t expect this. He didn’t plan for this. Without his prison, there was no place for the monster to go, no escape to seek, no dreams to dream. His eyes, they opened and they saw too much. They saw what he did not want them to see. So from under the willow tree he ran.

He ran, but he did not know what he would do. He did not know where he would go.

The only thing he knew was that he did not know.

A quote

"Maturity is knowing you were an idiot in the past.

Wisdom is knowing you will be an idiot in the future.

And common sense is knowing you should try not to be an idiot NOW."

-Jeph, QC

Why I Am Alive - To Inspire

(actual conversation - skelly was my wow name)


Jonathan D. Tran, Esq. says: i have a class in 30 mins but i dont think im going
Infected says: y
Jonathan D. Tran, Esq. says: lazy
Infected says: thats the spirit
Infected says: school is for fools!
Infected says: lookit skelly! he does nothing but sit on his ass all day!
Jonathan D. Tran, Esq. says: :(
Infected says: wishing he had a life or skills with which to live life!
Jonathan D. Tran, Esq. says: your words ring true, brother
Infected says: oui.
Infected says: now go to class dammit
Infected says: whilest I watch boobie anime and wish I had a job to go to.
Jonathan D. Tran, Esq. says: .......... wagh, fine.

Western two of red raven blat

I crave cookies!!! Whereupon I wandered east and found the wiry stamps of platypus-owlbear butt. Why? Three butts by division equals math is stupid. Cactus.

Mmmmmm lead cyanide tastes like sweet candy. Ghosts? Here? In my closet. Good conversation they make, cept the nazi who insists on shooting things and the Italian who wont shut up about his damn bistro. The wolf spider under the dresser bit them both and gossip rumor mongering war happy fun time was no more twelve random notes of that song on the super hyped up guitar piano thing youtube.

Wot? Main screen turn on. We has signal. How are you gentlemen. All your Tom Cruise logic are belong to us. Druidic farts smell like wet catatonic kitty cookies. Mmm... cookies.

I just want to sleep :( why is that so much to ask

Where I'd Rather Be

On the ground I lay, motionless in pain
I can see my life flashing before my eyes
Dead I fall asleep, was this all a dream?
Wake me up, I'm living a nightmare

I will not die (I will not die)
I will survive

I will not die; I'll wait here for you
I feel alive, when you're beside me
I will not die, I'll wait here for you
As I lay dying

On the ground I lay, losing everything
I can see my life passing me by
Was it all too much or just not enough?
Let me wake up, I want out of this nightmare

I will not die (I will not die)
I will survive

I will not die, I'll wait here for you
I will not die... When you're beside me

The deep cut ran from her collarbone to her stomach, a deep rend that severed every layer of her skin. Hot blood was pouring from the wound, soaking the inside of her chestplate and becoming cold almost instantly. The edge of darkness was clouding her vision, those icy fingers that threatened to engulf her for eternity. She could feel Kacus stirring inside her heart, teething at the edges of her sanity and yearning for the freedom that would come when the cage of her soul broke completely. Her life had begun in a struggle and carried her to this place today, that bloody plain they called Baeil Garr...

But as she lay dying, Ruun could feel Alystares arms wrapped around her, the heat of his breath and the pain in his tears as they trickled down her cheeks. From the fading sight at the corner of her eye, she saw Decimus had stayed his blade and was watching, obvious pain crossing his face as he struggled with decision to move or not. She managed a smile. She knew what that meant... Her sacrifice had broken the Dragons' control of Alystares heart. She had freed him what could have possibly been the end of that world.

She closed her eyes for the final time. She saw nothing. She felt nothing. But in his arms, there was no place she would rather be.

*-On the 3rd day of Jorya in the year 858 of the Raoleign calendar, Ruun Del'Cyrios gave up her life to break the clutch of Enduryon over Alystare Miskall and prevented what could've been the most cataclysmic event in history. Instead of the destruction of the balance of Mana, Alystare Miskall turned on his corruptors and slew them all, along with the help of the legendary Fate Decimus Sparda and the Ashyrr mystic Iule Nodomno, thus bringing an uneasy peace that lasted for over 400 years-*



(lyrics by Three Days Grace)

Actual Conversations

(Infected is my MSN name)



Micah: DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO FEED UNDEAD BABIES HOW MUCH THAT COSTS
Flake: HUMAN CORPSES ARE FREE, JUST GO DIG THEM UP!

---------


Infected: http://www.whatthehelljustcameoutofmyass.com/
Thom: you think Im dumb
Thom: i aint clickin on that
Infected: do it.

---------

Infected: I wanted to play an assassin named "BestAssInTown"
Infected: Whoops, forgot the extra "ass" in there.
Thom: they charge for that, ya know

---------

Lucren: ^_^
Infected: Dont you make those gay AOL faces at me

---------

Flake: stupid kids
Flake: all children should be shot
Tom: thats a little extreme. Or do u just mean in the arm or leg or somthin?
Flake: anywhere nonvital
Flake: like the head

---------

Jon-tran says: lets give a weapon limited only by your ingenuity and willpower to the goddamn batman
Infected says: batmans already an adrenaline rush-hemo fist-spec rogue with 375 engineering
Infected says: Let's give him MS while we're at it.
Infected says: ...
Infected says: and elemental mastery
Jon-tran says: and bubble
Infected says: now that's going too far!

When Darkness Turns to Light

When Darkness Turns to Light,
It ends tonight,
Just a little insight won't set things right...
It's too late to fight.

Card's eyes snapped open. Shinje. Trisda. It wasn't going to end like this. This would not end tonight.

Bullet for my Valentine

There goes my valentine again
Soaked in red for what she said
And now she's gone

Oh my god have I done it again
There's a pulse and it's deafening.
I can't help what I hear in my head
It's the switch and I flick (it says)

Hand of blood, I don't wanna feel,
my heart is breaking
Hand of blood, I don't wanna see,
my life is burniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing

I saw you look away
Is what you've seen too much to take Or are you blind and seeing nothing?
(I saw you run) I saw you run away
Is what I've done too much to take or are you scared of being nothing

There's a stain on my hand and it's red
Oh my god am I losing it, I can't help what I've done or I said
It's the button I push (and it says)

Hand of blood, I don't wanna feel,
my heart is breaking
Hand of blood, I don't wanna see, my life is burning

I saw you look away
Is what you've seen too much to take, Or are you blind and seeing nothing?
(I saw you run) I saw you run away,
Is what I've done too much to take or are you scared of being nothing

I saw you look away
Is what you've seen too much to take, Or are you blind and seeing nothing?
(I saw you run) I saw you run away,
Is what I've done too much to take or are you scared of being nothing


February 14th, a red letter day in history. And I fucking hate it.

Break the chain

“I don’t know who you are or what you did to get yourself into this cage, waiting for death. The fact that you weren’t executed and were, rather, left to suffer from starvation probably means you truly deserved this fate. While wickedness is one thing I cannot stand to see, it takes a backseat to suffering. It’s my belief that those who wrong others should be disposed of, not treated poorly or made to suffer. When they are, those who inflict the suffering are no better than the wrong-doers themselves. My Paladinic oath does not permit this… Evil must be punished. You might, perhaps, run off and begin inflicting your misdeeds somewhere else. But do so with this knowledge: today, you would have died. By your hand or by mine. I set you free, and give you this small amount of coin, with the hope that you will start again. Take this second chance and do something better with your life. You have the knowledge that I am sparing your life; heed this not as some fluke or happenstance. You are being given a second chance. Do not waste it. Should you waste it, know the sin would NOT be on your shoulders, but on mine. Any foul doings you commit stains my soul. Now go.”

Chronicle III Update

Chronicle III - As Humans Do

[==============75%_____]

Almost done. Also going to throw in some character sketches for the hells of it. I require feedback! Argh! INSPIRATION I DEMAND YOU SHOW YOUR FACE DAMMIT!!!! WHERES MY MUSE?!

*butts face against a wall*

Update

Percent done with Chronicle II - The Poetry in Murder

[ ================65%......................]

Yar. Pictures are drawn, just must scan them now and put em up. I decided I'm not going to illustrate or provide art for my books when I get them done because my style is too comic-y and anime-ish, not something I want to portray. I'm providing pictures just for the sake of a wee bit of mental image for teh readerz.

Of course, it's said "Good writers let their writing provide the image for the reader". But I'm willing to bet the guy that made up that quote was a terrible artist. So he can suck my socks.

-F

POSSUUUMMMMS...!!

Vasaimune: the cow says MOOOO
Vasaimune: the duck says QUACK
Vasaimune: the flake says BLARGH

Took the story down. It was getting annoying having it upside and backwards down this way seventy times spaghetti-os. That made no sense.

If you'd like to read, I've got a lil email contact 'group' I'll send out updates to. Lemme know if ya wants in.

(\ /)
(O.O)
()"_)
'" "'

ghost.. GHOST GHOOOOOOOOOST!!! *faint scream*