A Silly Story...
Sep. 17th, 2005 03:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chibi_trillianOnce upon a time, there was a wizard named Nahte. He was a nice wizard, so nice, in fact, that some people disliked him strongly and wished he'd fall down a well somewhere. A deep well. Preferably with alligators at the bottom.
One of these people was Noraa the Cruel, Scourge of Nations and Kicker of Puppies. Noraa had conceived of a fierce loathing for Nahte the very second that he saw him from a distance at the annual Wizards and Warlocks Walk-A-Thon. Noraa had spotted Nahte, and a strange feeling had come over him. His face had flushed, his heart had pounded, and he had felt faint for a moment. Never in his life had he hated someone this much from just a glance!
At that moment, Noraa vowed to become Nahte's archnemesis. He would soon see an end to Nahte the Good. For now, the closest thing he could do to defeating Nahte was to send an imp to tie his shoelaces together when he stopped for some water. After all, all villains have to start somewhere, and Noraa hadn't come out on a nice spring day planning on finding the person he would hate for the rest of his life.
Now, Nahte had never in his entire life met anyone he truly disliked. He had met people who were a bit trying to his patience, but never anyone who inspired a more deepseated emotion. Even as a Good Wizard with the Heroes Guild, he had never been truely vexed with his various archnemeses. He was positively fond of his last enemy, Sasnak, Destroyer of Worlds, and really wished she would come over for tea more often.
When his new archnemesis showed up on the doorstep of his wizard tower, deliberately stomped Nahte's singing pansies into discordant mush under a hobnailed boot while putting a cigar out on Nahte's clean white door, and then gave the door a solid, wood-splintering, paint-marring kick as his version of knock, Nahte discovered that even he, kindest of all the wizards, had a soulhate.
My blood is still uncool. Damn. I got told to go take some Flintstones Vitamins, as they have more iron in them than most adult vitamins. At least they're tasty.
Also on the vitamin front, apparently high-potency calcium supplements are all manner of not good for me. Muscle spasms in the most commonly used muscles in my body are vastly uncool, considering that the ones that got hit first and hardest were the muscles in my chest that responsible for rib cage movement when I do that inconvenient breathing thing.
I'm all manner of unsure of what to think of this. I've seen BishiROS use a split controller (while in the lotus position, with his hands raised like Buddha--a strangely peaceful pose, considering that he was playing a fighting game and pwning his opponent), but this one looks unwieldy, and the wires between the halves of the controller are too short for true freedom of movement. Am I the only one who likes having wires on my controllers so I don't have to go, "Oh SHIT! It's a final boss and my controller batteries just died!" and have to indulge in the weeping and the screaming and the hysterics?
My left-click button on my touchpad is dying a very slow death from overuse. Dammit. Now I have to go buy a mouse.
My Geeky British Boss earned himself an entirely new level of geekdom--he plays Warhammer. Then again, this is the same man who managed to expense Legos, so I shouldn't be too surprised.
On the topic of work, I'm now officially doing the jobs of two people and getting paid the same. Yay. I also have a leftover headache from work on Friday right now. I hope it goes away soon.
One of these people was Noraa the Cruel, Scourge of Nations and Kicker of Puppies. Noraa had conceived of a fierce loathing for Nahte the very second that he saw him from a distance at the annual Wizards and Warlocks Walk-A-Thon. Noraa had spotted Nahte, and a strange feeling had come over him. His face had flushed, his heart had pounded, and he had felt faint for a moment. Never in his life had he hated someone this much from just a glance!
At that moment, Noraa vowed to become Nahte's archnemesis. He would soon see an end to Nahte the Good. For now, the closest thing he could do to defeating Nahte was to send an imp to tie his shoelaces together when he stopped for some water. After all, all villains have to start somewhere, and Noraa hadn't come out on a nice spring day planning on finding the person he would hate for the rest of his life.
Now, Nahte had never in his entire life met anyone he truly disliked. He had met people who were a bit trying to his patience, but never anyone who inspired a more deepseated emotion. Even as a Good Wizard with the Heroes Guild, he had never been truely vexed with his various archnemeses. He was positively fond of his last enemy, Sasnak, Destroyer of Worlds, and really wished she would come over for tea more often.
When his new archnemesis showed up on the doorstep of his wizard tower, deliberately stomped Nahte's singing pansies into discordant mush under a hobnailed boot while putting a cigar out on Nahte's clean white door, and then gave the door a solid, wood-splintering, paint-marring kick as his version of knock, Nahte discovered that even he, kindest of all the wizards, had a soulhate.
My blood is still uncool. Damn. I got told to go take some Flintstones Vitamins, as they have more iron in them than most adult vitamins. At least they're tasty.
Also on the vitamin front, apparently high-potency calcium supplements are all manner of not good for me. Muscle spasms in the most commonly used muscles in my body are vastly uncool, considering that the ones that got hit first and hardest were the muscles in my chest that responsible for rib cage movement when I do that inconvenient breathing thing.
I'm all manner of unsure of what to think of this. I've seen BishiROS use a split controller (while in the lotus position, with his hands raised like Buddha--a strangely peaceful pose, considering that he was playing a fighting game and pwning his opponent), but this one looks unwieldy, and the wires between the halves of the controller are too short for true freedom of movement. Am I the only one who likes having wires on my controllers so I don't have to go, "Oh SHIT! It's a final boss and my controller batteries just died!" and have to indulge in the weeping and the screaming and the hysterics?
My left-click button on my touchpad is dying a very slow death from overuse. Dammit. Now I have to go buy a mouse.
My Geeky British Boss earned himself an entirely new level of geekdom--he plays Warhammer. Then again, this is the same man who managed to expense Legos, so I shouldn't be too surprised.
On the topic of work, I'm now officially doing the jobs of two people and getting paid the same. Yay. I also have a leftover headache from work on Friday right now. I hope it goes away soon.
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(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-17 08:21 pm (UTC)Muscle spasms suck, especially when they interfere with breathing. Breathing is such an imposition; you think those geniuses at Hammacher-Schlemmer could come up with some modern-art appliance to breath for you, since they've invented appliances for every other need, including cooking, sleeping and wiping yourself. Come to think of it, they do have portable oxygen filters; now they just need to conquer that pesky inward-outward motion of the chest and they'll have breathing really vanquished....
Maybe I'm 'old-school' (no school?), but I like having a wire on my game controller. It gives my feet something to play with while my hands are concentrating on the controller. If I don't keep my feet entertained, they get bored and start wandering away. They're very precocious feet.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-17 09:34 pm (UTC)So is there more to this little snippet you posted? There is right? You're just teasing us with little bits and pieces right? Right? (Im)Patiently waiting for more.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-18 08:02 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-18 08:44 pm (UTC)On until it breaks. Whichever comes first.