Frodo Gusoku

So last night I hear something like a woman being beaten. She was screaming bloody murder, and it went on long enough that I was convinced it from a person, not a TV. Sounds like it's coming downstairs, just outside my window.

Now it's pretty dark down there, and I can't see anything. But that doesn't mean much since you could park an Escalade covered in obese strippers down there, and because of how deep the shadows are in contrast to the streetlight, your night vision can't see it for shit. Compounding matters is that I'm not sure what to tell the cops even if I called them:

"Uhh, yeah I heard a sound from somewhere, just a minute ago. Please check it out? Also, don't investigate me, because I don't legally exist in this state*."

So, I did what I've been training for since Zork. I threw on my blackest clothes, my freak feet (because they allow me to walk silently), my bracers of +5 awesome, and grabbed my only sharp sword in one hand and a novelty bat in the other. That's right bitches, I dual wield.

Bracers displayed, here.

And I stole down the stairs, keeping to the aforementioned dark-assed shadows like some kind of Frodo Batman Gusoku, samurai/hobbit/vigilante. I'd resolved to call the cops from my Google Voice number, as presumably they'd have no idea what to do with that. And only if I didn't have to stick somebody. Finally I reach the spot where I'd heard it. And.... nothing.

I stalk about for a few moments, brandishing my sword and bat, seriously menacing the walls of my building, but nothing. The sound is gone. Also, I am freezing. I then decide, time to pack it in. I'm almost back up the stairs when I hear the sounds of a woman screaming again. I run back down to where I was and... I realize it's a goddamn movie.

An extremely quiet movie except for the screaming parts, containing roughly no sound track. From what Rob tells me, I think it was the new version of Halloween.

I retired last night disappointed that I didn't get to cut anybody, and annoyed at my building's apparent lack of insulation.

I would do it all again...

* Another story. Another day...

Project Time!

It's something about myself I can't change. In order to be happy, I need two things.

1. An enemy.
   
2. A project.

Since I'm sort of lacking an arch nemesis at the moment, I've decided to use my second trait to fulfill the first. I'm making a project of pissing people off, intentionally, as in interview for an Arch. I've decided that, as with most things in life, the internet provides the best solution.

Proposal: to offend people whose friendship I no longer, or possibly never did, desire on Facebook in order to ascertain which, if any, are suitable nemeses.

Added Awesome: Screenshots of the exchange.

Double Awesome: I'm blogging at work and I don't give a shit anymore. (This is somewhat unrelated.)

I think I'll start today and post the best results. I do it all for you, my ducklets.

Video Example: Dr. Orpheus attempts to court The Monarch as an arch.

Indeed.

When you're 600 years old, there's no such thing as a 'cougar'

I know this doesn't count as an actual post, and my drunken redecoration stands, but I'm too in love with this song not to share it.

Suck it, Meyer.

That is all.

The Dude Redecorates

I sort of... just shuffled the hell out of the color palate of the Wonder Blog. This is chiefly because I am drunk and it is late at night and the screen was too fucking bright.

I plan on fixing this later. When sober. And when I have a graphic designer advising.

For now, enjoy night mode.

The Dude abides.

Jesus, Scott, what the hell are you doing with your life?

Livin' hard! If, by livin' hard, you mean investing money in things, learning to cook, and getting my previously luck-based finances into some kind of order resembling an intentional state. Also, being a cad-amongst the gadabout crowd. These are the voyages of Scott.

Also, weren't you previously distracted? What happened there?

Distractions come and go. And overlap. And interact. Honestly I'm not so sure that I'm not now distracted from whatever it was I was doing. But in any case, I find myself with free time and thoughts more complex than I can express in 140 characters (looking at you Twitter). Prime bloggin' territory.

Borrrring! Tell me a story! Now!

OK you bastards. Here's your story:

Recently I hid a device in our good friend Rob's house. This particular device, the likes of which I've included below, emits a series of sinister sounds at a random interval. Things like: creepy child laughter, tapping, death rattles, "hey, can you hear me?", and sinister creaking.

The devilish device. Oh, and it's magnetic.

I hid this in their guest bathroom, where nonetheless his wife tends to be. It is also somewhat central to the house. Terror-lairty ensued. For two days she heard, intermittently, these ominous sounds. She, and she alone, seemed to be the only one afflicted. Naturally I was a suspect, but since it "started" after I left I was able to deflect suspicion.

Since I'd told Rob about it ahead of time, he was able to "not hear any of this." Things built until she called me, outright hostile, while I pointed out all the ways in which she was crazy. No one else heard this? It's... talking to you? And it started after I left? ...And this is my fault how? I think you may be batshit insane.

It finally came down to Ro forcing Rob to eat his dinner IN the bathroom until he acknowledged the sounds and helped her look for it (I never told him where it was.) After completely dismantling their bathroom, Ro accidentally found it while standing on the toilet. I had used the magnet to hide it in the light fixture.

Of the things she called me at that point, I'm able/willing to print only: motherfucker!

Nerdblogging

Alright. This is how it is. The Wonder Blog will live in infamy, but not much more than that for the time being. You can now find me in a myriad of online spaces, and I've not yet felt the need, the true, burning need I once felt, to blog in some time. 

So where you can find me most is Twitter. I update almost daily, and they're mostly short funny snippets, or links that you, as my adoring public, must slavishly follow for the purposes of finding the newest thing to forward to all of your own followers. 

As to what I've been doing lately, and why I've been so busy, the following video says it better than mere words could ever do. It doesn't address the current symptom*, but it does trace the infection** to its source. (Warning: contains an emulsion of rap and nerdery, not recommended for pregnant women, lest they spawn further generations of nerds.)

And follow me on Twitter, bastards.

* In the form of World of Warcraft. (Legume level 80 Mage, baby!)

** RPG's/Medieval RPG's in general.

Oh god. They're back, and bigger than ever!

They've returned. Despite my best efforts. Despite my warnings. Just when you thought it was safe... They strike!

I thought this was dead and buried. I was wrong. Beware: Wolf Shirt!

It's right flippin' behind you. RUN BITCH!

Don't let this happen to you. Constant vigilance!