Ominous Presence

Dogsitting

2008-10-05T18:50:00.002-05:00

I'm posting for the first time in two months. Since then, school has started, I turned fourteen, but surprisingly little has changed. Nothing really blog-worthy has happened. High school is "just peachy*." We have received into our home the adorable little fuzzball, Digger. She's a sixteen year old dog, but she gets around fairly well for her age. Wow, I don't have a thing to post about.

The White Stripes-Seven Nation Army

P.S. I will be changing my blog decor to something a little more Autumn-ish.

*Korn reference. First one for this blog, I think.

PTSLOFAN

2008-08-10T22:41:00.002-05:00

Petition To Save Lots Of Fluff About Naught.
I think we need to start a petition. Every time we post on our blogs, we must remember that little blog of Adam's languishing in the Basement of Blogger. We must strive to post a pleading comment on Lots of Fluff About Naught's last post, dated DECEMBER 27 OF LAST YEAR!!! Maybe these comments will nourish this little blog, but we hope it will persuade Adam to post, not that he ever checks on his little Internet brainchild. I started the ball rolling yesterday with a particularly persuasive plea.
Anyway, I decided, while changing the featured things, I have taken to posting a lot of music videos. I thought that if I had a "Featured Song" I could save myself from thinking how to subtly work a video into a post. So here it is. Again, you don't watch these videos. You might be fed up with my music.
Eric Clapton-Tears in Heaven

Life Update No. WHATEVER

2008-08-09T22:31:00.003-05:00

Yeah, so I haven't posted in a long time.
Boundary Waters is old news. It was fun, but if you want in-depth satirical analysis go to my bro's blog.
During my sabbatical, I've had a few obsessions running through my mind.
1.Gibson SG's. I know, I know more guitars. Boring.
2. The Raconteurs and the White Stripes, below.
The Raconteurs-Level

The White Stripes-You Don't Know What Love Is

3.Even more than usual, Jimi Hendrix.
4.Music in general.
5.School. Yes, I'm getting bored of summer.
Nothing else much has been going on, except the band. I'm frustrated that although we're good friends, we have different tastes in, well, heh heh, music. A fatal flaw in a band if you ask me, but we're trying to work around it. We're trying to get more practices in, but I'm the only one in the band that doesn't work or drive, I'm kind of a hindrance. Luckily, I make up for it by being such an awesome guitarist that I blow people's faces off. JK.

Postscripts: I don't expect you watch all the videos. They're are really there for my benefit.

Update Coming Soon

2008-07-18T23:12:00.003-05:00

My mind has been totally devoid of post ideas, but I promise my faithful three-person audience that I'm not abandoning my blog. I will post when I have an idea, and no sooner. I've updated the featured things, hopefully that will satisfy you for the time being.

Selfish Post

2008-06-24T22:02:00.004-05:00

This post might be a little boring for you, my readers. I'm writing for my own enjoyment. First of all, I had an awesome experience when I went to Guitar Center and was able to CRANK OUT SOME SERIOUSLY RAD CHOPS ON TWO SWEET GIBSON AXES THROUGH A ALL-TUBE PEAVEY VALVEKING COMBO. Whew. Sorry. Anyway, I tried out two guitars, the Gibson SG Faded and a Gibson Les Paul Studio via a Peavey Valveking amplifier. AWESOME is all I can say.

Enter Pt.2 of this post.

Awesome blues can really make music you can feel. I'll post some really cool blue song here.

Cream-Crossroads. Originally written by the pioneer blue maestro Robert Johnson. That Eric Clapton singing and playing guitar.

Stormy Monday-T-Bone Walker. Awesome clean Chicago blues sound. Rachel, dig the piano. Check out his horizontal guitar solo.

Stevie Ray Vaughan-Rude Mood. Good example of Texas Boogie Blues.

P.S. Rachel, you should listen to "Layla" by Eric Clapton. The second part has a pretty piano tune. Eight minutes long, though.

Guitar Awesomeness

2008-06-13T14:48:00.004-05:00

Ray Vaughan-Little Wing. Little Wing was written by the late Jimi Hendrix, and originally had vocals, but SRV did it instumentally. I consider this the pinnacle of guitar composition and hope, in several years, to be able to play it. At the end he starts playing Third Stone From the Sun, another cool Hendrix tune, and the first recorded jazz-rock fusion song. It's a miracle his guitar stays (relatively) in tune through all the hard playing and whammy bar abuse.

Erik Mongrain-PercusienFa. Erik Mongrain demonstrates lap tapping, using harmonics and open-tuning. Really cool.

Van Halen-Eruption. Eddie Van Halen demonstrates shred and fingertapping techniques. Yes, the drummer really needs a shirt.

Yes, you've all heard Pachelbel's Canon in D on piano, but what about tapped on two guitars?

Playlist Updated

2008-06-13T11:40:00.001-05:00

Here is my playlist, dressed up in green.

Blog Update

2008-06-13T11:03:00.004-05:00

I decided that I liked what Moz did for his blog when he changed his template. My black template was chosen because, at the time of choosing, I had an affinity for heavy music, I.E. neo-grunge and alt metal. I still like each genre, but music tastes have opened up somewhat, and I am influenced less and less by heavy music. Rock and its subgenres are still the only kind of current music I like very much, so don't worry that I'm going soft. What with this change, or rather maturing, of musical taste, and a beautiful spring, I decided this blog needed a facelift. You're looking at it. In honor of this new template, I'm choosing my featured things carefully to make sure they fit Ominous Presence's new worldview.

Life Update

2008-05-29T20:20:00.003-05:00

I'm going to post random music videos throughout this post, so don't feel obligated to watch them in order or anything. Actually, since you don't care, you probably won't watch anyway. You think my music tastes are terrible. *Sob*

Greenday-I Fought The Law (cover)

Today Moz and I went outside and explored the swampy-foresty area behind the greenspace. We found many trails and areas we had never seen before, as well as a sandal, a toad, and a Pepsi can from 2001.

I haven't posted a classical song, so you probably think I don't like classical music. I do. P.S.-It's very quiet.

Chopin-Funeral March

After we explored, we packed a picnic and went into this nice little place just outside of Baldwin, and walked after we ate. Too bad the weather was wet and chilly. It was fun anyway.

Marvin Gaye-I Heard It Through the Grapevine (A' Capella. It shows how awesome his voice is. Sorry about how random this post was, but that's how my brain works.

Untitled Post

2008-05-24T19:14:00.003-05:00

I've been kind of lazy in maintaining my blog, with most of my posts consisting of music videos or little comments. So I'm going to try to make a good old mega-post.

Johnny Cash--Big River

The Clash--Should I Stay or Should I Go

P.S. You probably won't like this song if you don't like British punk, but I didn't much like punk until I listened to the Clash, so give it a try or two. It grew on me.

My last day at BCS went very well. We cleaned the school, had a scavenger hunt, had a bike ride (I biked around twelve miles,) played softball. Dylan, Elsie, And I signed our names in the maintenance room and basement as the class of 'O8. I got sunburned.
My favorite color is yellow, or green. I can't decide which. What's your's?
Bring on Summer Vacation!

Jimi Hendrix- "Hear My Train Coming" On an Acoustic Twelve String

2008-05-11T13:33:00.002-05:00

Jimi Hendrix playing an awesome and soulful song on a twelve string acoustic, which is about twice as hard as a Fender Strat, which is what he usually played. At the end, after "gotta leave this town," it cuts to a video of him in a car with some other hippies and he smokes a joint. So just look at something else when the scene cuts, but you can still listen to the song.

Sitings From a Kitchen Window

2008-05-07T06:32:00.002-05:00

This morning, May 6, I was looking out of the kitchen windows, contemplating breakfast.
I won't go in to agonizing detail, but in that thirty-minute period I saw:

1. Two blue jays, very close to the window.
2. A chubby red cardinal, very very close to the window.
3. Three cotton-tail bucks duking it out over territory.
4. A spectacular little yellow and blue myrtle warble.
5. A strikingly orange and black Baltimore oriole.
6. A bald eagle with something in its talons.

Who knew out new house would be so full of nature?

Hahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaa!!!

2008-04-28T06:38:00.004-05:00

Hee hee. Our online security blocker, Integrity Online, has *giggle* BLOCKED RACHEL'S BLOG AS HAVING MATERIAL ON "CRIMINAL SKILLS!!!!!"
Man, any sentence with Rachel and "criminal skills" makes me laugh.

Unless, of course, she has a secret life that no one knows about......

My playlist Moved Up

2008-04-13T08:37:00.002-05:00

I decided that after I killed the dancing thing, my blog still needed a soundtrack,. So I guess I'll move my playlist up. Again, if you want to find a song instead of the shuffle doing it for you, it would probably make your life easier if you click the "pop-out player" button.

ADFDASHFSGDH

2008-04-12T21:52:00.003-05:00

You'll notice, if you do indeed care, that I removed the little Ford dancing things. It was fun, but noisy and distracting. You'll notice also, if you care, that I changed the featured jigamathingadingers. Check 'em out. I'm saving up for that guitar, and I'm almost halfway there. Ciao!

In Memoriam, Revised Ed.

2008-03-20T13:54:00.003-05:00

I know that it didn't work when I tried to put a picture of my ratties on the blog, so here's a link to a collection of photos taken by the premier photographer, me. Enjoy.
By the way, You might have noticed I'm not doing any political posts. That's because I'm sick of politics. As Jimi Hendrix said, its just a "big ego scene."

Creedence Clearwater Revival- Looking Out My Back Door

2008-03-01T21:17:00.002-06:00

One of the best songs from one of the best classic rock bands of all time. Plus, it's nice to see them having such a good time playing.

Radar Love-Golden Earring

2008-03-01T08:28:00.002-06:00

This is a rad video. Cool song. But remember, it's the 70's. Don't say I didn't warn you. By the way, my playlist is easier to navigate if you click the "Launch Standalone Player" button under the post.

In Memoriam

2008-01-30T19:36:00.000-06:00

I decided that, as a remembrance of the dynamic duo, I would use a picture of Pandora and Penelope, who, for those of you who don't know,* were my pet rats, as the featured livestock/rat for a period of time. Thanks a lot.

*I doubt anyone who reads this blog hasn't personally met me, so that might be unnecessary, but there you go.

Update No. 6

2008-01-29T21:27:00.000-06:00

Eye chainjd ahl da feechrd tings. Woch da nu muzak videeoh. Ids wirth et jost fer da giter soaloh.

Whispers in the Dark

2008-01-27T14:26:00.000-06:00

I love this song. And I think it matches the mood and atmosphere of my blog. I like the drummer, and yes, she is a girl.

Apologize

2008-01-26T14:06:00.001-06:00

I like this song (Apologize by Timbaland and OneRepublic) and the music video is random but I like the photography.

Gore, Pt. 1

2008-01-19T21:04:00.000-06:00

*sigh* Everyone takes me for granted. I didn't post for a more than a month, and no one pleads with me to post. Not even once. *double sigh*
Well, down to business. Considering what a big hit the Bob stories were, and also considering the Bob is, as it were, "on lockout," I have decided to renew interest in Ominous Presence, with a new series of short stories name Gore.
Yes, gore is what I write best.** So, here goes.
The cyclops lifted a monstrous, spiked club above his head, and brought it down on an innocent human. A squelch, and the creature lifted the weapon out of the ground. It was now covered in something resembling chunky tomato paste. The alien cyborg mutant zombie werewolf troll demon goblin vampire opened up with the roof-mounted, four barreled M-60 of his bright yellow Hummer. The cyclops' chest and face was peppered with pink entrance wounds, and his nine-foot girth tumbled to the ground on top of two propane tanks. The ACMZWTDGV, as if he just wanted to make sure, fired the machine gun for about another minute, and then got out and went to inspect the corpse. At that precise moment, the propane tank broke and ignited on the ACMZWTDGV's lit Marlboro. The dusty gravel driveway of Jehoshaphat's Gas was littered with red scraps and lank entrails. The concrete building was was coated with a film of crimson droplets.
All very gruesome. The jedi alighted gingerly on a oversized kidney, and activated his green lightsaber. His jedi-sense was tingling. Then, he suddenly was informed why when a ninja kicked him in the solar plexus. The jedi keeled over, and then jumped six feet in the air, landing on the ninja's head. With a unctuous snap, the spinal column telescoped. But, the jedi was surrounded by ninjas. Only, instead of the usual numchucks and bowstaffs, they carried powerful handguns. The jedi blocked the volley of bullets furiously, the projectiles vaporizing when they touched his blade. With lethal initiative, the jedi sliced every single one of them like sushi.

To be continued.
In case you were wondering, no, that doesn't have a plot.

**Not strictly true. My specialty is actually threatening, impenetrable fogs of sentences, whose meanings I gently shroud under staggering adjectives, and over use of commas, though these are not the only weapons I employ, and sometimes those sentences become cumbersome, and long, and hard to read, until the action of extracting meaning from them transforms into a daunting prospect, like building a rope out of sand.

Christmas Time Is Here!

2007-12-01T11:06:00.000-06:00

Ah! Beautiful snow! It is, as you might have guessed, snowing at the time of posting, so I decided to do a REAL post to please certain pink parties that I shall not name. Winter is so nice, and the snow covered hillsides summon poems from within my lizard brain:
"Ode To Winter"
The soft footsteps of the ag'd years
Have all tread lightly in thy fine powder
In thy slush, scores of mittens have been soaked
In the walks thou hast blocked, many a muffled curse word has been
Utilized while shoveling
The loving, fairy touch of snowflakes on my frostbit brow
The unconcerned cries of "****" and "****" as people slip, stumble and fall on thy
Icy sidewalks
Bring untold peace to the Holiday Season

Just Kidding.

For the pleasure of the audience....

2007-11-30T17:09:00.000-06:00

..... I have updated the featured things.

Weltanshuuang

2007-11-30T16:43:00.000-06:00

Ok, fine Rachel, I'll post. ............. .. .. .. , YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
*cough cough* *wheeze* *fall on floor, wait until my blood sugar goes down* *get up, dust myself off and continue with post* ANYway, I have nothing to post. *Sighs* *Thinks* *Lightbulb ignites over head*

The Custard Has Left the Creamery

Update No. 5

2007-11-21T18:28:00.000-06:00

I forgot to mention that I received a very nice Takamine Jasmine S34C NEX for my birthday. That's a guitar, if you are wondering. I updated all my featured jigamathingies, and to appease the Madscientist gods, I used a guitar that WASN'T A GIBSON!! HOLY COW!! Refried beans rawk, amen.

Death In The Family 2

2007-11-21T13:01:00.000-06:00

Pandora, my pet rat, died on Monday, I think it was a stroke. I knew it was coming for a while, so it wasn't a shock or anything, and I didn't want her to live too long after her sister died because she was so lonely.

Update No.4 in R major

2007-11-11T16:34:00.000-06:00

I've updated the guitar, ride, quote, and have changed the featured livestock to featured livestock/RAT! Check it out, comment, and vote for Pedro.

Update No.3

2007-11-10T09:27:00.001-06:00

Hello all. I've added the Featured Livestock, er.... feature under the Pajamas Media voting booth. The first featured livestock is an Ankole cow. Enjoy, live long and prosper, eat sauerkraut, and love rats.

Freestyle Writing pt.2

2007-11-04T12:16:00.001-06:00

The pink fuzz shot out of the gaping hole in the space alien's scaly abdomen at such a velocity that Merv reformed into a puce hummingbird out of the pile of thousand island dressing that he was blasted into by the martians' freem death blasters.
The martians were clearly surprised, but that didn't last long. The opened up their pain-ray emitters, and despite Merv's ducking and weaving, he was hit in the middle of his little feathery tummy, and dropped into a vat of Mountain Dew. Of course, Mountain Dew is to hummingbirds as spinach is to Popeye, so Merv came back to consciousness with vengeance.
The air was filled with a bass thrum thrum thrum thrum. A giant hummingbird, streaked hot pink and lime green, rose from the vat dripping pop. It was at least six feet tall, and its wings created a ethereal blur around it. Its lengthy bill was razor tipped, a fact which the bird knew and utilized on three aliens before they realized they were getting attacked.
The beak was now covered with gore and green blood. Merv was mad, because they had killed his friend of course, but there was something about them killing him too that enraged him.

P.S. The featured guitar is hot, and I found someone who wrote just like me: Frederick Douglass. Read his book, The Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass.

Freestyle Writing/No, I'm not dead in a swamp in Cambodia.

2007-10-31T19:32:00.000-05:00

Hello. I'm bored and have no homework, so I guess I'll post something. I'm going to write, completely out of my head, trying hard to avoid possible reader comprehension and always steering away from a plot. Here goes.
The woodpecker shuddered as a giant fireball careened off the magnetically sealed walls of the small condo in a suburb of Akron, Ohio. "Freedom!" he yelled with great conviction, as the alien skull-borer ray turned his brains into something resembling tapioca pudding. The faithful minotaur, Merv, seeing the contents of his friend's head dashed out on the sidewalk, was possessed with a determination and strength, and consequently resumed the brute for hoeing of his front lawn with vigor. Yes, all seemed lost, but the maxim of Merv's third cousin, thrice removed on his mother's side, came back to him through the red mist of anguish at the passing on of his dear companion: "Let your pancreas be your pair of galoshes." This memory gave him comfort in the dark world of hi-def TV, Little Debbie's, and electric toothbrushes.
The icky green stalk-eyed aliens shot five, 3.14-second bursts with their Freem Death Blasters, and he was reduced to a pile of thousand island dressing.

Death in the Family

2007-08-30T12:03:00.000-05:00

For those of you who don't know, my rat Penelope died of unknown causes on August 26th. That's all.

Update No.2

2007-08-24T17:52:00.000-05:00

Quote, ride, and guitar are changed. I think they're all perfect, especially the quote. (Xenophon is an awesome name)

Bob Ch.1, again.

2007-08-24T15:55:00.000-05:00

Sorry I tried to edit Ch.1, and it disappeared. But, here it is again. Ch.2 is below this post.

Bob the final conflict, Pt. 1

Chapter one

When Bob glanced at the dense foliage where the rustling came from, his gut did a few calisthenics, and sat down, trembling from the exertion. The blond hair on the back of neck stood up, stiff as a cadaver, quivering with excitement. The words of Bob’s Grandmamma Lena came rushing back: “Always trust your gut, Robert. Heed his advice above all others’. Unless, of course, it would be the hair on the back of your head’s.” Bob was getting the same message from both organs: RUN!

Bob ran, his fuzzy and distressingly chartreuse bunny slippers pounding the moist loam of the deciduous forest, his face torn with the daggers of fierce bramble, his hands deflecting Hoochletmuffin-Tree trunks, their dark cubic leaves and hot pink fruit raining down on him.

Bob looked back feverishly, to find that mist had obscured the forest behind. The full moon had been masked by dark clouds. Bob’s pace quickened to a full out, fear-fueled sprint, his red cape flowing out behind him dramatically, exposing his violently violet corduroy bellbottoms and “VOTE FOR PEDRO” T-shirt.

He heard a vicious keening evocative of a craven banshee, and a ravenous growling, reminiscent of a starved coyote, accompanied by snorting, roaring, barking, scraping, shrieking, hissing, whooping, cheeping, screaming, and burping redolent of various other organisms. Once or twice Bob saw disgustingly contorted black shapes through the billowing smog that was following him as fast as the multi-lingual horror was. Bob now had a firm conviction that a pack of many depraved beasts pursued his person now.

While running through the seemingly endless forest, red fungi rushing by with un-fungal speed, vegetation and rock also hurrying past at an exotic haste, Bob drew his trusty .38 Sig Sauer magnum from his orange hemp belt and grabbed his loyal serrated, double edged, hand brushed titanium knife with the ebony hilt. He spotted a stout Frogbane tree in the distance, and steeled himself for the fight to come.

He arrived at the yellow tree, and instead of dodging it he applied his back firmly to the smooth bark and let loose two flashing bullets.

Due to the ravenous evil that closed on him presently, he was prevented from shooting a third.

Bob Ch.2

2007-08-24T15:46:00.000-05:00

Ok, people. Here's the second chapter of Bob, The final conflict Pt.1 Mr. Fluff-butt can read it now. Enjoy!

Chapter two

When Bob recovered his consciousness, he first noticed that, contrary to popular belief, and (it seemed) demand, he was fully, unequivocally, gloriously alive, and that realization, the thought that he was truly animate instead of half digested, blinded him to the fact that his right leg had been chewed off brutally, and that his pancreas was woefully absent, though no clear mark, wound, or scar existed on his abdomen, an important detail that led him to speculate, for one wild moment, that he never had a pancreas (come to think of it, he wasn’t sure what a pancreas was.)

Bob sat up, and was immediately greeted with a rushing pain emanating from his starboard thigh. He looked at his stump and suddenly felt a terrible loss. His favorite leg was gone. He started to cry, mainly from the pain, but the feeling he got when he looked at the empty space where a valuable appendage used to be definitely contributed to the intensity of his sobs. Once he was done weeping, he looked around. He was sitting in that same wood, and bright morning sun was filtering through the trunks and leaves, creating beautifully dappled patterns of green and yellow on the leaf litter and vegetation. Bob was momentarily awed by the splendor, but then his soldier-sense kicked in. He immediately searched for his weapon, and found it fully loaded and clean. His knife was stuck into the ground beside him, shinier than it had ever been. His garb seemed like it had been dry cleaned, and his right pant leg had obviously been rolled up before the monsters had chewed his extremity off.

Bob wondered where he would go from here. He had stopped hurting miraculously, and he felt completely normal. He was not bleeding, though it seemed that he hadn’t at all, a very peculiar thing, considering that his whole leg had become a meal only a while ago. He sat there thinking about strange It All was, and would have probably kept on thinking if he had not notice what looked like a neatly scrawled missive pinned to his left (duh!) slipper. Bob picked it up, relishing the feel of linen paper beneath his fingers. It looked like it had been written with thick India ink, quite possibly with a quill.

Bob suddenly stopped slobbering over a note, and read. I enjoyed our little game, Bob. Your leg was very good grilled with a mint-lemon sauce. Next time, I’ll eat your entire person. Sincerely, Hugh. P.S. You owe me for dry cleaning your clothes and cleaning your weapons. I thought it the least I could do, have chewed your leg off, but undoubtedly you’ll be all ungrateful and stuff, and try to kill me. I wouldn’t advise it, but there you are. Human nature is not to listen. P.P.S. The Cyborg leg is on me. I thought it would be more sporting to let you walk.

Bob crumpled the note. Anger filled his mind. First, he missed his leg. Second, the note was very confusing, rambling over several different and not altogether lucid subjects as it did. Third, he hated people named Hugh. Fourth, this Hugh character seemed a very slippery and arrogant guy. Fifth, the letter mentioned a Cyborg leg, something that perplexed poor Bob even further. And sixth, it made no mention of a pancreas, and that threw doubts and yet more uncertainty at Bob. Had he ever had one? If so, where was it? How the heck did he know it was gone? If he knew it was gone, then it surely had to have been sometime, right? If he never had, a pancreas, how had he lived thus far? And again, What in blue blazing barbecued barnacles was a pancreas?

Bob concluded that no, he never had a pancreas just to settle his mind.

He scooted backward until his back met a tree, and leaned against it wondering what he would without a leg. By the end of his wondering he was quite depressed, because he realized that he could not go anywhere quickly. Bob, having hunted these woods before, knew that immobility spelled death because of the large packs of Northeastern Roaming Creepclimbers and numerous Bulky Hairless Flesh-Eating Slime-Panthers the forest supported. Bob picked up his gun and laid it on his lap, stroking it. It was a comfort thing.

Bob sat stroking for an hour, and then realized he was hungry. He supposed he should look for a berry bush or some kind of edible tuber. He decided he rather have the berries. He sheathed his knife, and put his gun in his pocket, and got down on his belly, ready to crawl like a worm, when he felt his remaining foot hit against something hard, and definitely non-organic. He turned around cumbersomely, still on his stomach, and looked. There was a largish black case near the tree he had been leaning on.

Bob turned over so that he was once again seated, and picked the box up. He listened for a ticking time bomb. Having heard no ticking, he tapped it in various places to see if there was a mechanism that would expel a poisonous gas if opened the container. There was no audible irregularity, so Bob opened.

He first saw a packet of antiseptic powder, which he opened and rubbed into his wound. Under the disinfectant was a Cyborg leg! Complete with assembly and attachment instructions! Bob quickly read the manual and directions, and simply fit the Nerve-O-Receptotron socket onto his stump and screwed in the Multiple-Tite-Fit©-Fastening screws, primed the triple Calibrating Orbs, and stood up. His new leg moved lithely and naturally, and when he rolled his pant leg down (his bunny slipper was already on it), he could barely tell it was mechanical. He kicked out at a sapling, and it snapped in two easily, the Patent-Applied-For-Carbon-Fiber-Pressure-Absorbing-Octobonds disposing of all shock, so his leg was undamaged.

Bob was whole again. He stood, and started to run. In minutes he found a clear brook to drink from, and had filled himself with berries.

It was afternoon now, and the sun was orange and warm. He found a shady, Fuzz Moss clump and lay down, his hunger gone and thirst quenched. He lay for a few moments, and started dozing. In an hour, the forest was dim, and Bob was fast asleep.

Bob was in very deep sleep, not twitching or murmuring. He slept like the large granite boulder he rested by, a fact that was not lost on a particularly fearsome female Hairless Slime-Panther.

Announcement

2007-08-23T23:47:00.000-05:00

Everyone, don't say my real name for security reasons. There are presently four countries after me for various illegal enterprises, and if they knew you knew me they would surely kill you. Just FYI. Just call me Peacefinger, or The Finger, or Fingo-rama, or Finginator, or Peace-ola, or Your Imperial Awesome Illustrious Royal Highness Master-of-Everything, Sir, or whatever. Just not my real name, got it?

Quote

2007-08-19T12:44:00.000-05:00

I love the quote for this week. Check it out. I've removed the featured article thing, because I realized that no one cares.

Update

2007-08-16T10:38:00.000-05:00

Ride and guitar are changed.

I'm back

2007-08-16T10:12:00.000-05:00

And I've got a new trick. It's been a long while since a wrote a real post, but since none of you weasels give a hoot in Hanover, it's cool. I've been busy moving and doing sweet summer nothings. Our new house ROCKS. The Finger, over and out.

Malfunction

2007-08-01T13:16:00.000-05:00

Sorry, I can't the featured guitar um... feature to work. It has been objectively removed.

Amnesty

2007-06-30T11:20:00.000-05:00

This "Reform" bill is deeply disturbing. Amnesty for Illegal immigrants is the stupidest thing since brussel sprouts. It occurs to no one in the senate, of course, that a country with no border isn't a country AT ALL. Another disturbing part of this political vomit is president Bush, who has been a pretty good president so far, introduced it! If it wasn't for me, the whole world would have blown up by now.

VOTE FER FRED!

2007-06-27T14:37:00.000-05:00

VOTE IN THE POLLS FOR FRED, AND WHATEVER YOU DO, DON'T VOTE FOR CHUCK HAGEL, RUDY GULIANI, OR JOHN MCAIN. YOUR COUNTRY IS DEPENDING ON YOU

Also...

2007-06-27T10:26:00.000-05:00

When you've looked, tell me what you think about them.

Ladles and Gellyspoons, I have an announcement

2007-06-26T21:57:00.000-05:00

Hey kids! Check out the new featured ride, guitar, quotes, and articles! Also, VOTE, VOTE, AND VOTE AGAIN!!!! No votes for the dems, okay? Mine deceptively, Peacefinger

Afirmative Action

2007-06-25T09:07:00.000-05:00

The affirmative action thang is a joke. It's racist and cruel on two levels (each). First, it is reverse racism, against the whites, saying they have to get their M.D. the normal and difficult way. It's also racist to the people of color who "benefit", because it clearly says that they can't succeed without government intervention and legislation. And I'm sure there were some crackpot schools that might have done this before, or made it easier on whites to pass, and, legally or not, one way or the other, it's wrong. I also mentioned it was cruel in two ways. First, the people who pass because of this stupid bill and not by their wits and intellect, get their ability questioned, and rightly questioned, if anyone finds out. It's also cruel to their patients. Would you like your spleen transplant handled by an underqualified doctor, or someone who was forced to technically cheat to cut out that yellow thing? I'll leave it up to you.

Michael Bloomberg

2007-06-24T19:51:00.000-05:00

Michael Bloomberg is an idiot. First he was a democrat, then he changed to a "Republican", and he announced recently that, if and when he runs, he'll change to a moderate. Shameless jelly-legness. Oh, he's also the mayor of NYC. No wonder that city is going to the Doggies.

Yo

2007-06-24T16:40:00.000-05:00

Hello, it's me. I just want to tell everyone who looks at my blog to tell me how you like the guitars, the articles, the newsreel, the profile, the links, and whatever I forgot. Very insincerely, Peacefinger P.S. Vote on the presidential poll also.

Music Video

2007-06-24T09:13:00.001-05:00

As For The Poll.... II

2007-06-23T22:46:00.000-05:00

Mos Showed me how to get the PJ poll on. Hope evvvrrrybody votes on it.

As For The Poll.....

2007-06-23T20:58:00.000-05:00

As for the poll, my brother said "Ask me again sometime," in that vague way of his. Translated, that means, "D'oh!"

RANDOM RAMBLINGS

2007-06-23T20:51:00.000-05:00

Does anyone think that Shaolin monks look funny in their little orange robes? I do. By the way Rachel, I live on the dark side of things, so deal with it. I'll be introducing my two rats, Penelope (or Nellie) and Pandora (AKA Dora, Faery Princess [LOL LOL LOL]) via picture if I can. I'll also ask my esteemed brother how to get a presidential poll on here, and if I do, I wish you would vote. After all, you can't vote yet.

Kid Gloves

2007-06-23T20:48:00.000-05:00

If you've read the "controversies" article, you may think that it, as my Dad put it, treated Hillary with kid gloves. I think so.

WHY ISN'T HILLARY IN JAIL?

2007-06-13T13:18:00.000-05:00

Or dead? I'm not even going to bother to name every crime she's committed, and if you want to know, look at the Wikipedia article. Whitewater and Travelgate deserve life imprisonment, each.

WHAT IT'S ALL ABOUT

2007-06-13T13:04:00.000-05:00

Are you tired or run down? Do you have trouble getting up each morning? I have the cure: Rats, Rock, Wisconsin, Distortion, Screaming, AND, if you feel too happy, Politics. That's this blog in an eggshell.