It all started on a pretty normal Wednesday is small town USA. I finished the work day at the normal town on a normal day and drove my normal way to go vsit and a have an evening beer or two at the normal watering hole. Generally, I try to get out of there at aout 8:00 p.m. to give myself enough time to eat, get a few things done if need be, and wind down to ed my night. By my second beer, I was having a pretty good conversation or two with an old friend of mine regarding fantasy football. 7:30 rolled around and another friened of mine showed up and I began tlaking to her. I don't think she meant to be there for more than a few minutes, so we were both procrastinating pretty well. After a few shots and a few more beers, the track of time was lost and 9:00 was soon upon me. I said my goodbyes and went home.
I got home about 9:15 and skipped my evening meal. I decided to simply grab some Netflix and some couch time as the night was drawing to a close and I needed to wind down a bit before I hit the sack. I flipped on over to the remainder of Airplane! from the other night and watched that until about 11:15 after messing around on the internet for about thirty minutes. Within about ten minutes I was fast asleep.That night, I dreamed. I must have been dreaming the entire time but it's really difficult to say. I don't generally dream that I remember. But then again, in order to remember my dreams I must wake up in the middle of them. As fate would have it, that's exactly what happened.
At 4:35 a.m. I awoke suddenly from a deep alcohol ladened sleep, confused and momentarily energized. After a brief delay, my mind was flooded with memories of the dream in which I was involved just momens before. In my dreams and for some strange, unknown reason, I was in a hospital bed complete with a hospital garb. There was a faceless attendant at my side and the hospital was dark execpt for the ight around me. As I looked over to my left, the "camera" panned to the front of the home where my grandparents lived for years - the same home that my grandfather built with his own two hands. I could see the side door and the carpot, and the driveway that led from the house to the outside world. Emanating from the scene was some sort of indistinguishable music not unlike that of a rock concert. At that point, the person in my dream who was me began to remember something that supposedly happened in the past relative to the setting of the dream. At one time, I must have tried to get in to see Whitesnake but was denied by this woman ticketeer who said I couldn't get n because I didn't have tickets. Well, the music I heard was Whitesnake, and when David Coverdale began to sing "Slow and Easy" he magically appeared on a second stage between me in the hospital bed and the dor to my grandparents' home. Now, David Coverdale was rocking. He had the mic and he was twirling it around and belting out mad tunes. He was the epitomy of 80's glam metal. But strange to this scene was that his band members were non-existent. Whitesnake's music just seemed to push through from some other dimension and follow him around to accompay him wherever he went.
As soon as David Coverdale began rocking the mic on the other stage, all the people from the concert began flooding the front of the stage to continue whatever concert he was holding at the time. I took this opportunity to appear a few meters from the stage to run over there and join the oncoming crowd. After all, I wanted to go to the concert too and rock out with Whitesnake and David Coverdale. But as soon as I got up to the crowd's edge, that same ticketeer confronted me asking "Where's my tickets?". She barred my entry into the festivities. All of a sudden, David Coverdale stopped and yelled over the microphone. "Hell No! If that little fucker didn't pay, get him te hell out of here!" /I could see my face lit up with suprise ad embarassment as te entire crowd and the ticketeer looked at me with accusing stares. I was punked by David Coverdale. That sunuvabitch.
The dream ended there. I woke up. I guess, in some sort of strange way, David Coverdale got his wish. I guess in some crazy manner, the ticketeer had mystical power. Together, tey jetisoned me out of my own dream. For a brief moment, I grinned while I sat up in bed. When I realized what had happened, I became a tad bit miffed. I said to myself, "Just for that, David Coverdale, I'm going back to bed and I'm going to dream your ass into a dark alley!" A tiny manical laugh escaped my subconscious as I layed my head back on the pillow. That's the last thing I remember before I woke up to get ready for work.
Now, I'm sure Freud would probably have a field day with this one. I don't really take much stock in dream inerpretation, however. But if there was anything to gather from this experienct it's that we don't have as much control over our dreams as some of you may think. Once your consciousness subsides, you are no longer master of your own domain. Second, don't mess with David Coverdale. If you do, he will punk you too. I n order to combat David Coverdale, I will have to do research into what character should be manifested in the dream to combat David Coverdale. In the meantime, t's best to stay clear of him. Finally, if you're going to pass out after a night of beers and friends, make sure you have nounresolved issues with legalities, moralities, and your conscience. I for one can't really pinpoint the whole not having tickets issue that seemed to pop up at the concert in the dream, but I like to think it probably had something to do with my subconsciousness tapping into my conscience.
Oh, and if you see that ticketeer, tell her I'm looking for her and I got her tickets.
Invino Veritas
9/29//11
EOF
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Devilishly Departmental: Part Deux
Devilishly Departmental: Part Deux
[SceneI: The Throneroom]
[Satan and his new agent, Agent 665, are in his throne room going over the agenda.]
Agent 665: Allright, first item. You have a 9:30 appointment with a Mr. Daniels for violin
lessons.
Satan: Violin lessons? What the hell kind of evil is that? In fact, that's really NOT evil. That's
just stupid.
Agent 665: [Waving his hands] Something about Georgia and Golden Fiddles, and some kid
named "Johnny"....the information is really kind of sketchy.
Satan: Burn them! Burn the piss out of them!
Agent 655: Well, if we did that....[looks at his sheet of paper] we will lose 67%, roughly, of
our profits from eBay. Those little trailer rats love useless crap.
Satan: Oh. Can't we just singe them a bit then?
Agent 665: No. Besides, the commissioner of the Southeastern Conference is in Georgia.
His contract doesn't expire until 2017.
Satan: Damn! Damn! Damn! [Pounds his fist]
Agent 665: Ok, next order of business. The Vatican has decided to up its original requests
for bleeding Jesus sculpture from one a year to seven. And they are also requesting
an extension of the rental agreements for the souls of lecherous priests.
Satan: Absolutely not on the first. What are they offering on the second?
Agent 665: A 'Nuns of the Convent' yearly calendar, a Civil War commemorative chess set,
a subscription to the cheese of the month club, and 25% off at Hot Topic.
Satan: Did you say 'Nuns of the Convent"? And cheese?
Agent 665: Yup!
Satan: I certainly do love nuns and cheese....
Agent 665: ...and it's a pretty nice chess set, too.
Satan: [Thinks for a moment] Ok. tell them yes, but only an extra month. Meanwhile, I want
the calendar over there next to the throne, the cheese on one of those big silver
platters over there [Points], and funnel the rest to our eBay store. No, wait. Forward
the discount card to Golgotha; she may need spare parts.
Agent 665: Very good, sir. Next item: Jesus called. He wants to sit down.
Satan: Again?! We just did that two millenia ago next Tuesday.
Agent 665: He's really pretty adamant about this. We really should pencil him in. How about
three o'clock in the main conference hall? We'll just cancel your weekly round of golf
with Tiger Woods. Besides, we can always reschedule.
Satan: [Sighs] Fine! Damn!
Agent 665: We can always set it for another time....
Satan: No, damnit! Let's get this stupid crap over with! In fact, bump it up to umm...noontime.
We'll make it a lunch thing. That way I can still play golf. I got your ass this time, Tiger!
[Raises fist to the air]
Agent 665: Ok, that should cover everything for today.
Satan: Let's see, what time is it? [Looks at his watch] Ahh, 8:45. Time for a quick sulphur
rinse, and then off to the races!
Agent 665: As you wish, sire.
[Exit Satan]
[End Scene]
[Scene II: The Main Conference Hall of Hell]
[Satan and Agent 665 awaits Jesus and his men.]
[Satan is reading Reader's Digest Magzine]
[Agent 665 is picking his nose and trying to flick it off his fingertip]
Satan: [Chuckling] Oh, Reader's Digest, laughter really is the best medicine!
[Closes the magazine.]
Where are they?! It's almost 1:00 for chrissakes!
Agent 665: [Chuckling]
Satan: What?
Agent 665: Nothing. You just said 'christ's sake'....
Satan: Oh, yeah, Ha!. That's pretty funny, actually.
Agent 665: Yeah...
[Enter Jesus and his two goons]
Jesus: Satan!
Satan: Jesus! Wonderful to see you! I hope the flight was to your liking?
Jesus: Eh. It was ok. A little bumpy around the tokhes, but ok.
Satan: You want I should fetch a charioteer for you next time? You haven't traveled to the
Underworld until you've done it by chariot!
Jesus: Oh, you musn't trouble. I'll be fine! I'll just get another one. Dad's got tons of extras.
I was thinking of something athletic and Nigerian. [Poses and looks at his rear end]
Satan: Why mess with perfection?
Agent 665: [Ushering towards a table and chairs] Gentlemen? Shall we?
Satan: [Sits down at the head of the table] Have some challah made fresh this morning,
Jesus. You're a wine man, aren't you? Wine all around! And bring some of those
fish ball things, too.
Agent 665: As you wish, sire.
[Exit Agent 665]
Jesus: Really, Satan, you worry too much. Forget me! Let's get on with things. We can
have fish and bread later, but now....now, let's talk.
Satan: By all means. How terrible of me. Please, continue.
Jesus: The other day, Ishmael comes to me...
[Enter Agent 665 with a plate of bread and fish balls, and a bottle of wine.]
Agent 665: Here we are, Gentlemen!
Jesus: [Rolling his eyes] Thank you...
Goon #1: Could ya' pass the challah, boss?
Jesus: [Staring at the goon in amazement] Murray, forget the challah! Eat on your own time.
[Under his breath] Schmuck. Anyways, Ishmael comes to me the other day and
says to me, 'Hey, Boss, Satan is making bleeding sculptures for the priests. I thought
this was our job!' So, I says to myself 'How could this be? This very good friend of
mine? Renting out bleeding sculptures with my face on them? This can't be true of
this person.'
Satan: Outrageous!
Agent 665: Yes, that's crazy. [Looks briefly at Satan who looks back at him.]
Jesus: That's good, boys....
Goon #2: [With a mouth full of food] Yeah, that's good for them! Tell 'em, Boss!
Jesus: I'm tellin' 'em, already! Don't talk wit' your mouth full! [Smacks Goon #2] Like I was
sayin', that's good. Because if'n I ever found out someone was tryin' to move in on my
business - you know what I would do?
Satan: Make them watch Ishtar?
Agent 665: Good one! [Satan and Agent 665 discreetly high-five and snicker at each other
in agreement]
Jesus: Gentlemen, I don't think you are taking this seriously. [Takes a fish ball and tosses it
into his mouth] and when I don't think someone isn't taking me seriously, it makes
me angry. [Clears his throat and grabs another fsh ball] Listen, if I find out you've
been making anything, ...and I mean ANYTHNG for the priests, I will send you back
to work for Disney until the sun explodes. Get me? [Eats the second fish ball and
coughs]
Satan: Yeah, I got it. Geez!
Agent 665: [Winces]
Jesus: Excuse me, you little punk? [Coughs heartily now]
Agent 665: Jesus, have a glass of wine. [Pours a glass of wine for Jesus]
Jesus: [Coughing] Thank you, my son. [Drinks the wine and clears his throat] Four billion
years and you still haven't learned any manners? Satan, what have you been doing
with yourself? Look at you. Who do you think you are? Mel Gibson? [Begins
coughing again]
Satan: Lord of the Pit?
Jesus: You're about ...[Coughs profusely]
Goon #1: Boss....[Both goons stand up]
Goon #2: You don't look so good, boss. [Satan and Agent 665 look at each other briefly]
Jesus: [Feeling nautious, stops coughing for a moment] You know boys, you're right. I don't
feel well. [Begins coughing again; shoots an angry look at Satan and Agent 665]
Goon #1: Come on, Boss. Let's get you some rest.
Goon #2: Yeah, you got yourself all worked up and stuff.
[The goons help the coughing Jesus up out of his chair]
Jesus: [Struggling to hold his breath] This ain't over, you two. I'll be back.
Satan: I'll have my people call you in three days.
Goon #1: Hey, don't get so smart, wise guy, or I'll twist your horns backwards to poke you in
your ass.
Goon #2: [Chuckles oafishly; Jesus begins to cough again]
[Exit Jesus]
[Exit Goon#1]
[Exit Goon #2]
Satan: [Awestruck] What the HELL just happened?
Agent 665: Umm, I think we just pissed off the son of god.
Satan: [Picks up a fish ball and looks at it] What did you put in these?
Agent 665: Just what you said: fish balls.
Satan: [Pausing in disbelief] You put WHAT in these?
Agent 665: You said bring in some wine and fish balls.
Satan: You fed the son of God the balls of a fish? I didn't even know fish had balls!
Agent 665: How was I supposed to know? I mean, he fed everybody with fish!
Satan: Yeah, sure, but he never ate any himself.
Agent 665: Ahh, right. Eww, ok, my bad. [Sighs] So, what do we do now?
Satan: We? No, sir. Me! I'll be enjoying margaritas off the tits of a dragon on the beaches
of Titan in about two hours. You will likely be left to polish Mickey's one good eye
as he hits an eightball or two off of Alice's Teacups. Sounds, great, but no thank you!
Agent 665: What the hell, man?
Satan: [Mockingly Singing] Oh, I'm the Devil and I don't care!
Agent 665: I've organized your social calendar and appointments, I've laughed at your stupid
jokes, cooked and fed you, and let's not forget that case of Velorian Herpes you got
from that overly-fertile whatever-you-call-them-things...
Satan: It was a Chocolate H'gruk Gruk.
Agent 665: ...that's it! A Chocolate [stumbling over the words] H'gruk Gruk, which I still
don't know how that happened since there were no holes in her body.
Satan: There is now! [Laughs at himself]
Agent 665: ...
Satan: What? It's all in the wrist! [Looks at his watch] Speaking of....I'm famished. Let's get
something to eat.
Agent 665: [Pouting] Have some fish balls.
Satan: Yeah, well, I think I'm going to go out tonight. Want I should pick you up something?
Agent 665: Really?
Satan: Hell, no! [Cackles]
[Exit Satan]
[End Scene]
[Scene III: On The Moon of Titan]
[Satan awaits one of his mistresses while conducting business on the phone]
Satan: [Talking on the phone and pacing] Listen, Benny, I appreciate your interest in our
product but upping the number of bleeding Jesus sculptures from one to seven can
upset the balance of things if we don't space these things out.
...
Seriously, you're going to coach me on the business of evil, now?
...
Benny...[Trying to interrupt]...Benny, no dice, man. Listen, I got another call coming
in - I got to take this. I'll send you the first one on Thursday in Brooklyn, NY. Bye!
[Answers the second caller]
[In a pleasant voice] Prince of Darkness.....?
...
Mr. President! Good to hear from you. What can I do for you?
...
Wait a minute, ... ok....ok! Slow down!
...
Well, who cares if the Republicans are stonewalling you?
...
Uh huh...? I tell you what, [Sighs] I'll talk to Sarah tomorrow and see if she'll consider
it, and if that doesn't work, we'll send in the Tea Partyers.
...
Yeah, I know they're racist but they hate Republicans. After all, the enemy of my
enemy....Tell me about it! Hey, listen, I got company on the way. I'll talk to you
later, k? Ok, Barack, talk to you soon. Buh-bye.
[Hangs up]
[There's a knock at the door; Satan answers]
Baby, am I glad to see you!
Lilith: Satan! [Kisses Satan on the cheek and enters]
Satan: How long has it been? Two? Two and a half thousand years?
Lilith: [Sings a stanza from Barbara Streisand's You Don't Bring Me Flowers]
"You don't bring me flowers, you don't write me love songs...."
Satan: Yeah, yeah, I know. I've been busy.
Lilith: Busy? Too busy for me?
Satan: Listen, it's been a busy year. Can't get a decent concierge anywhere, I got the pope
breathing down my neck about miracles, and I got a country to run among other
things.
Lilith: Sounds like you need a little stress reliever.
[Seductively rubs his chest and looks at him]
Satan: Exactly. To top things off, I got this Jesus thing to deal with.
Lilith: I thought we killed him once before?
Satan: We did, but the fucker rose from the dead after a three-day drunken tirade through
the City of Dis. Now he says I owe him or something.
Lilith: I don't see you for a couple thousand years, and all I get is whining. Where's the guy
who rode a river of lava through the streets of Pompeii just so he could get even heat
on his marshmallows so they wouldn't burn on one side?
Satan: [Grins] Yeah, that was fun...
Lilith: Allright now, come over here and give some sugar to your favorite temptress.
Satan: [Kisses Lilith; Phone rings again] Goddamnit! I got to take this, one moment.
[Answers phone]
Bill, how's it going? Uh huh? Yep. Yep. Ok, did you clear your cookies? Ok, after
you saw the blue screen, did you restart the computer? Ok, try that.
[Makes a silly face as he counts the moments]
That worked? Good deal, man. Hey, no problem, it's all part of the contract. Ok,
talk to you later.
[Hangs up]
Ok, now where were we?
Lilith: Heating marshmallows....? [Smiles seductively]
Satan: Oh, yeah...[Leans in for a kiss; the phone rings again] Son of a bitch! This shit
didn't happen when I wasn't doing this all myself. That's it.
[Snaps his fingers; there's a knock at the door]
Lilith: [Answering the door; talking to Satan] Oh, darling, you ordered room service....
Satan: Get in here and answer these calls, thrull!
Agent 665: [Phone continues to ring] Answer it yourself.
Satan: Listen, if you don't shut this ringing phone up I'm going to flay you over an open pit.
Lilith: Satan, dearest, it appears you're busy....
Satan: No, just hold on, Lilith.
Agent 665: [Folds his arms] I don't care. Not until you apologize.
Lilith: Ok, this is lame on so many levels.
[Exits flipping the bird to Satan and slamming the door]
Satan: [Exasperated; stomping his feet] Damn, damn, damn, DDDAAAAMMMNNN!
[Shoots an angry stare at Agent 665 and points a finger] You! You're the cause
of this!
Agent 665: Do what you will, but no apology, no help.
[Closes his eyes in anticipation of being struck by Satan]
Satan: [Raising a fist to beat Agent 665 and then pausing] Ok, asshole, I'm sorry! Now, can
you please just answer this damn phone?!
Agent 665: [Smiles, and takes the phone from Satan] Prince of Darkness, Lord of the Pit!...
Absolutely not! Well, I'm afraid that will just have to do, Mister Ill. He is out of the
office until Monday at the earliest...I don't care if you are the leader of North Korea!
Ok, well, that is just rude. Good day, sir!
...
I said good day, sir!
[Hangs up]
Satan: Now, that's what I'm talking about!
Agent 665: You damn right it is.
Satan: NOW, I can get back to doing what I do best....
Agent 665: Space Invaders?
Satan: Damn right. You going to be player two?
Agent 665: What about Lilith?
Satan: She hates this thing.
Agent 665: Then, in that case, damn right!
[Both sit down and grab a controller]
This time you're going down!
Satan: In your dreams, cockboy!
[Fade to Black]
[End Scene III]
[End Act]
Invino Veritas
9/24/11
EOF
[SceneI: The Throneroom]
[Satan and his new agent, Agent 665, are in his throne room going over the agenda.]
Agent 665: Allright, first item. You have a 9:30 appointment with a Mr. Daniels for violin
lessons.
Satan: Violin lessons? What the hell kind of evil is that? In fact, that's really NOT evil. That's
just stupid.
Agent 665: [Waving his hands] Something about Georgia and Golden Fiddles, and some kid
named "Johnny"....the information is really kind of sketchy.
Satan: Burn them! Burn the piss out of them!
Agent 655: Well, if we did that....[looks at his sheet of paper] we will lose 67%, roughly, of
our profits from eBay. Those little trailer rats love useless crap.
Satan: Oh. Can't we just singe them a bit then?
Agent 665: No. Besides, the commissioner of the Southeastern Conference is in Georgia.
His contract doesn't expire until 2017.
Satan: Damn! Damn! Damn! [Pounds his fist]
Agent 665: Ok, next order of business. The Vatican has decided to up its original requests
for bleeding Jesus sculpture from one a year to seven. And they are also requesting
an extension of the rental agreements for the souls of lecherous priests.
Satan: Absolutely not on the first. What are they offering on the second?
Agent 665: A 'Nuns of the Convent' yearly calendar, a Civil War commemorative chess set,
a subscription to the cheese of the month club, and 25% off at Hot Topic.
Satan: Did you say 'Nuns of the Convent"? And cheese?
Agent 665: Yup!
Satan: I certainly do love nuns and cheese....
Agent 665: ...and it's a pretty nice chess set, too.
Satan: [Thinks for a moment] Ok. tell them yes, but only an extra month. Meanwhile, I want
the calendar over there next to the throne, the cheese on one of those big silver
platters over there [Points], and funnel the rest to our eBay store. No, wait. Forward
the discount card to Golgotha; she may need spare parts.
Agent 665: Very good, sir. Next item: Jesus called. He wants to sit down.
Satan: Again?! We just did that two millenia ago next Tuesday.
Agent 665: He's really pretty adamant about this. We really should pencil him in. How about
three o'clock in the main conference hall? We'll just cancel your weekly round of golf
with Tiger Woods. Besides, we can always reschedule.
Satan: [Sighs] Fine! Damn!
Agent 665: We can always set it for another time....
Satan: No, damnit! Let's get this stupid crap over with! In fact, bump it up to umm...noontime.
We'll make it a lunch thing. That way I can still play golf. I got your ass this time, Tiger!
[Raises fist to the air]
Agent 665: Ok, that should cover everything for today.
Satan: Let's see, what time is it? [Looks at his watch] Ahh, 8:45. Time for a quick sulphur
rinse, and then off to the races!
Agent 665: As you wish, sire.
[Exit Satan]
[End Scene]
[Scene II: The Main Conference Hall of Hell]
[Satan and Agent 665 awaits Jesus and his men.]
[Satan is reading Reader's Digest Magzine]
[Agent 665 is picking his nose and trying to flick it off his fingertip]
Satan: [Chuckling] Oh, Reader's Digest, laughter really is the best medicine!
[Closes the magazine.]
Where are they?! It's almost 1:00 for chrissakes!
Agent 665: [Chuckling]
Satan: What?
Agent 665: Nothing. You just said 'christ's sake'....
Satan: Oh, yeah, Ha!. That's pretty funny, actually.
Agent 665: Yeah...
[Enter Jesus and his two goons]
Jesus: Satan!
Satan: Jesus! Wonderful to see you! I hope the flight was to your liking?
Jesus: Eh. It was ok. A little bumpy around the tokhes, but ok.
Satan: You want I should fetch a charioteer for you next time? You haven't traveled to the
Underworld until you've done it by chariot!
Jesus: Oh, you musn't trouble. I'll be fine! I'll just get another one. Dad's got tons of extras.
I was thinking of something athletic and Nigerian. [Poses and looks at his rear end]
Satan: Why mess with perfection?
Agent 665: [Ushering towards a table and chairs] Gentlemen? Shall we?
Satan: [Sits down at the head of the table] Have some challah made fresh this morning,
Jesus. You're a wine man, aren't you? Wine all around! And bring some of those
fish ball things, too.
Agent 665: As you wish, sire.
[Exit Agent 665]
Jesus: Really, Satan, you worry too much. Forget me! Let's get on with things. We can
have fish and bread later, but now....now, let's talk.
Satan: By all means. How terrible of me. Please, continue.
Jesus: The other day, Ishmael comes to me...
[Enter Agent 665 with a plate of bread and fish balls, and a bottle of wine.]
Agent 665: Here we are, Gentlemen!
Jesus: [Rolling his eyes] Thank you...
Goon #1: Could ya' pass the challah, boss?
Jesus: [Staring at the goon in amazement] Murray, forget the challah! Eat on your own time.
[Under his breath] Schmuck. Anyways, Ishmael comes to me the other day and
says to me, 'Hey, Boss, Satan is making bleeding sculptures for the priests. I thought
this was our job!' So, I says to myself 'How could this be? This very good friend of
mine? Renting out bleeding sculptures with my face on them? This can't be true of
this person.'
Satan: Outrageous!
Agent 665: Yes, that's crazy. [Looks briefly at Satan who looks back at him.]
Jesus: That's good, boys....
Goon #2: [With a mouth full of food] Yeah, that's good for them! Tell 'em, Boss!
Jesus: I'm tellin' 'em, already! Don't talk wit' your mouth full! [Smacks Goon #2] Like I was
sayin', that's good. Because if'n I ever found out someone was tryin' to move in on my
business - you know what I would do?
Satan: Make them watch Ishtar?
Agent 665: Good one! [Satan and Agent 665 discreetly high-five and snicker at each other
in agreement]
Jesus: Gentlemen, I don't think you are taking this seriously. [Takes a fish ball and tosses it
into his mouth] and when I don't think someone isn't taking me seriously, it makes
me angry. [Clears his throat and grabs another fsh ball] Listen, if I find out you've
been making anything, ...and I mean ANYTHNG for the priests, I will send you back
to work for Disney until the sun explodes. Get me? [Eats the second fish ball and
coughs]
Satan: Yeah, I got it. Geez!
Agent 665: [Winces]
Jesus: Excuse me, you little punk? [Coughs heartily now]
Agent 665: Jesus, have a glass of wine. [Pours a glass of wine for Jesus]
Jesus: [Coughing] Thank you, my son. [Drinks the wine and clears his throat] Four billion
years and you still haven't learned any manners? Satan, what have you been doing
with yourself? Look at you. Who do you think you are? Mel Gibson? [Begins
coughing again]
Satan: Lord of the Pit?
Jesus: You're about ...[Coughs profusely]
Goon #1: Boss....[Both goons stand up]
Goon #2: You don't look so good, boss. [Satan and Agent 665 look at each other briefly]
Jesus: [Feeling nautious, stops coughing for a moment] You know boys, you're right. I don't
feel well. [Begins coughing again; shoots an angry look at Satan and Agent 665]
Goon #1: Come on, Boss. Let's get you some rest.
Goon #2: Yeah, you got yourself all worked up and stuff.
[The goons help the coughing Jesus up out of his chair]
Jesus: [Struggling to hold his breath] This ain't over, you two. I'll be back.
Satan: I'll have my people call you in three days.
Goon #1: Hey, don't get so smart, wise guy, or I'll twist your horns backwards to poke you in
your ass.
Goon #2: [Chuckles oafishly; Jesus begins to cough again]
[Exit Jesus]
[Exit Goon#1]
[Exit Goon #2]
Satan: [Awestruck] What the HELL just happened?
Agent 665: Umm, I think we just pissed off the son of god.
Satan: [Picks up a fish ball and looks at it] What did you put in these?
Agent 665: Just what you said: fish balls.
Satan: [Pausing in disbelief] You put WHAT in these?
Agent 665: You said bring in some wine and fish balls.
Satan: You fed the son of God the balls of a fish? I didn't even know fish had balls!
Agent 665: How was I supposed to know? I mean, he fed everybody with fish!
Satan: Yeah, sure, but he never ate any himself.
Agent 665: Ahh, right. Eww, ok, my bad. [Sighs] So, what do we do now?
Satan: We? No, sir. Me! I'll be enjoying margaritas off the tits of a dragon on the beaches
of Titan in about two hours. You will likely be left to polish Mickey's one good eye
as he hits an eightball or two off of Alice's Teacups. Sounds, great, but no thank you!
Agent 665: What the hell, man?
Satan: [Mockingly Singing] Oh, I'm the Devil and I don't care!
Agent 665: I've organized your social calendar and appointments, I've laughed at your stupid
jokes, cooked and fed you, and let's not forget that case of Velorian Herpes you got
from that overly-fertile whatever-you-call-them-things...
Satan: It was a Chocolate H'gruk Gruk.
Agent 665: ...that's it! A Chocolate [stumbling over the words] H'gruk Gruk, which I still
don't know how that happened since there were no holes in her body.
Satan: There is now! [Laughs at himself]
Agent 665: ...
Satan: What? It's all in the wrist! [Looks at his watch] Speaking of....I'm famished. Let's get
something to eat.
Agent 665: [Pouting] Have some fish balls.
Satan: Yeah, well, I think I'm going to go out tonight. Want I should pick you up something?
Agent 665: Really?
Satan: Hell, no! [Cackles]
[Exit Satan]
[End Scene]
[Scene III: On The Moon of Titan]
[Satan awaits one of his mistresses while conducting business on the phone]
Satan: [Talking on the phone and pacing] Listen, Benny, I appreciate your interest in our
product but upping the number of bleeding Jesus sculptures from one to seven can
upset the balance of things if we don't space these things out.
...
Seriously, you're going to coach me on the business of evil, now?
...
Benny...[Trying to interrupt]...Benny, no dice, man. Listen, I got another call coming
in - I got to take this. I'll send you the first one on Thursday in Brooklyn, NY. Bye!
[Answers the second caller]
[In a pleasant voice] Prince of Darkness.....?
...
Mr. President! Good to hear from you. What can I do for you?
...
Wait a minute, ... ok....ok! Slow down!
...
Well, who cares if the Republicans are stonewalling you?
...
Uh huh...? I tell you what, [Sighs] I'll talk to Sarah tomorrow and see if she'll consider
it, and if that doesn't work, we'll send in the Tea Partyers.
...
Yeah, I know they're racist but they hate Republicans. After all, the enemy of my
enemy....Tell me about it! Hey, listen, I got company on the way. I'll talk to you
later, k? Ok, Barack, talk to you soon. Buh-bye.
[Hangs up]
[There's a knock at the door; Satan answers]
Baby, am I glad to see you!
Lilith: Satan! [Kisses Satan on the cheek and enters]
Satan: How long has it been? Two? Two and a half thousand years?
Lilith: [Sings a stanza from Barbara Streisand's You Don't Bring Me Flowers]
"You don't bring me flowers, you don't write me love songs...."
Satan: Yeah, yeah, I know. I've been busy.
Lilith: Busy? Too busy for me?
Satan: Listen, it's been a busy year. Can't get a decent concierge anywhere, I got the pope
breathing down my neck about miracles, and I got a country to run among other
things.
Lilith: Sounds like you need a little stress reliever.
[Seductively rubs his chest and looks at him]
Satan: Exactly. To top things off, I got this Jesus thing to deal with.
Lilith: I thought we killed him once before?
Satan: We did, but the fucker rose from the dead after a three-day drunken tirade through
the City of Dis. Now he says I owe him or something.
Lilith: I don't see you for a couple thousand years, and all I get is whining. Where's the guy
who rode a river of lava through the streets of Pompeii just so he could get even heat
on his marshmallows so they wouldn't burn on one side?
Satan: [Grins] Yeah, that was fun...
Lilith: Allright now, come over here and give some sugar to your favorite temptress.
Satan: [Kisses Lilith; Phone rings again] Goddamnit! I got to take this, one moment.
[Answers phone]
Bill, how's it going? Uh huh? Yep. Yep. Ok, did you clear your cookies? Ok, after
you saw the blue screen, did you restart the computer? Ok, try that.
[Makes a silly face as he counts the moments]
That worked? Good deal, man. Hey, no problem, it's all part of the contract. Ok,
talk to you later.
[Hangs up]
Ok, now where were we?
Lilith: Heating marshmallows....? [Smiles seductively]
Satan: Oh, yeah...[Leans in for a kiss; the phone rings again] Son of a bitch! This shit
didn't happen when I wasn't doing this all myself. That's it.
[Snaps his fingers; there's a knock at the door]
Lilith: [Answering the door; talking to Satan] Oh, darling, you ordered room service....
Satan: Get in here and answer these calls, thrull!
Agent 665: [Phone continues to ring] Answer it yourself.
Satan: Listen, if you don't shut this ringing phone up I'm going to flay you over an open pit.
Lilith: Satan, dearest, it appears you're busy....
Satan: No, just hold on, Lilith.
Agent 665: [Folds his arms] I don't care. Not until you apologize.
Lilith: Ok, this is lame on so many levels.
[Exits flipping the bird to Satan and slamming the door]
Satan: [Exasperated; stomping his feet] Damn, damn, damn, DDDAAAAMMMNNN!
[Shoots an angry stare at Agent 665 and points a finger] You! You're the cause
of this!
Agent 665: Do what you will, but no apology, no help.
[Closes his eyes in anticipation of being struck by Satan]
Satan: [Raising a fist to beat Agent 665 and then pausing] Ok, asshole, I'm sorry! Now, can
you please just answer this damn phone?!
Agent 665: [Smiles, and takes the phone from Satan] Prince of Darkness, Lord of the Pit!...
Absolutely not! Well, I'm afraid that will just have to do, Mister Ill. He is out of the
office until Monday at the earliest...I don't care if you are the leader of North Korea!
Ok, well, that is just rude. Good day, sir!
...
I said good day, sir!
[Hangs up]
Satan: Now, that's what I'm talking about!
Agent 665: You damn right it is.
Satan: NOW, I can get back to doing what I do best....
Agent 665: Space Invaders?
Satan: Damn right. You going to be player two?
Agent 665: What about Lilith?
Satan: She hates this thing.
Agent 665: Then, in that case, damn right!
[Both sit down and grab a controller]
This time you're going down!
Satan: In your dreams, cockboy!
[Fade to Black]
[End Scene III]
[End Act]
Invino Veritas
9/24/11
EOF
Random Pies on the Window Sill
9/19/11
---------
1. I should remind myself to write the book entitled "Songs That Should Never Be Sung
Aloud To Anyone Ever". This will be a collection of inappropriate, crude, lewd,
gauche, common, and otherwise lowbrow songs meant for purposes of humour and
just to simply get them out of my head. Their lyrical patterns will follow the ones
found in many popular songs. In all likelihood, it will probably become nothing more
than "Invino's Big Book of Dirty Poems".
2. This should probably be called "Random Cow Pies In The Field".
3. Remind me to make a Christmas version of "Songs That Should Never Be Sung Aloud To
Anyone Ever". Naturally, it should be narrated by Morgan Freeman.
4. I knew I was right; Courtney Gains was in both 'Children of the Corn' and 'Hardbodies'.
5. Man, never got any REM sleep last night. I hate it when this happens. Layed there for
four hours in a semi-sleep state until 6:30 this morning. I've a feeling this is going to
affect my Monday Night Football ventures.
6. I've a feeling that I'm going to end up getting denatured alcohol in my eye. My eye itches,
and I have the alcohol on my fingers at the moment.
7. After listening to a bunch of Cabaret bands and singers on last.fm, I've realized a few
things. Most all of them are really crappy. Voltaire is awesome. Vermillion Lies ain't
bad. Abney Park is pretty decent. But the rest of it sounds like butt. I would happily
recommend some Voltaire, however. Oh, and Jason Webley seems to be pretty decent,
too.
8. Everyone should know people of the following five occupations: Police Officer, Lawyer,
Doctor, Mechanic, and a Computer Guy. These seem like people who you will inevitably
find yourself paying at one point in your life within modern society unless you have a
friend.
9/20/11
---------
1. I feel like I'm in a creative lull. I wonder if it may be that I'm not putting myself into
situations that serve as impetus for my creativity. Hmm.
2. Zombina and the Skeletons are cool. Check 'em here.
3. I really wonder about the inspiration that people have for their band names. For example:
Black Math Horseman, The Peculiar Pretzelman, The Mystic Knights of the Oingo
Boingo, and, my favorite, Honest Bob and the Factory-to-Dealer Incentives.
4. I wonder if the band 'The Last Days of Jesus' mean their music to be listened before,
during, or after Passover. And are they talking about the first or second time? This is
so confusing.
5. Given the amount of MSG in Chinese cuisine in the U.S., I wonder if I could rub some Lo
Mein on some day-old cantaloupe and bring back the color in the fruit. After all, Fruit
Fresh was nothing more than MSG, which, by the way, you can buy in your spice aisle.
6. Clockhammer was one of the best bands of which you never heard.
7. I think I deserve to be upset to a slight degree if I sit in my chair for an hour with my fly
down a nobody brings it to my attention. Especially when I already know.
9/21/11
---------
1. Ok, Facebook. You may wonder why I decided to post this one Google's service. It's for
the same reason every infinitesimal chunk of substance that I still like about Facebook is
being wittled away piece by piece with every stupid change you make to the interface. If I
want to drive to the store in my hometown, the city doesn't change the route every few
weeks. The things that I found attractive about using your service are slowly disappearing
with every change. You need to realize that I, among others, don't need you. What will we
do without you? The same damn thing we did before you, and maybe more. With the
competition that has sprung upvwith your success, you can't afford to drive the mainstays
away. But I have a minor solution forvyou: institute a classic view. Otherwise, the more
infrequent I hear from you, the better.
2. There is a suprising amount of people in this world who will attempt to tell intelligent,
smart, creative, and talented people that they are ignorant. I'm reminded of ex-KGB
agent Yuri Bezmenov's explanation of 'normalization', or the changing of a nation over
a period of time to one's own idea of truth, fact, and definition. You can catch some
of Yuri's interviews on Youtube, by the way. It's actually pretty good, and really kind
of depressing and scary.
3. 'Breaking Bad' is an excellent show. It's interesting, comical at times, and it has a different
sort of feel than most shows. But, unlike many other shows I like, it's not very inspiring.
Usually, I feel like I may have creative surges when I start watching or engaging in
something, but not with this show. It's kind of strange, actually. No, I'm not saying I
borrow from these other shows. Think of it more like applying the heat to cook your
dinner. It just gets the juices flowing.
4. I really should apply myself towards getting another scene, at the very least, to the play.
5. I think I need a priest or a rabbi. These printers are surely spawns of the devil, and must
be blessed and/or exorcised.
6. Too bad brass isn't worth a ton of money. I could be swimming in dough right about
now from all this brass lying around in these spare parts.
7. What if it's not that our perspective on time changes a we get older but rather the temporal
stream changes as we get older? Say, for example, it's not that time flies when we get
older, but it's actually "covering less ground' as it reaches its own finality. I think Ted
Theodore Logan just said 'Whoa."
8. I fought the Taco Bell 12-Pack, and the 12-Pack won. I'll have to write that Kobayashi guy
and learn his training secrets. I'll be back, damn you! You can't escape me forever! (This is
me shaking my fist on a blog service.)
9. I made a clerical error yesterday: it's Zombina and the Skeletones.
10. The Creepshow is pretty cool, too. The band, not the show or movie.
9/22/11
---------
1. Taken from a recent Classifieds listing: "FS: Squeaky Shoes". Really? This is a
selling point?
2. Man, my back has been feeling pretty good the past couple of days. I wonder why. Hmm.
3. Man, Kyle Thomas's (Alabama Thunderpussy) voice is monstrous. The guy is a beast.
4. I think if I replace one more printer base I'm going to end up in the bell tower with a rifle.
5. Today, I worked on the second installment or act or fourth scene or whatever of something
that began on here as a whim of three scenes and one act called "Devilishly
Departmental: A Farce". It's called "Devilishly Departmental: Part Deux". I wrote nearly
two entire scenes of what should probably be three scenes. This is why there's probably
not going to be as much content under this date in this post.
9/23/11
----------
1. Damn I'm tired.
2. When martian kids look at the night sky, do they see the martian in the earth?
3. When the tooth is long,
And the beard is gray,
When the moon is bright,
And the sun goes away,
The stars do shine,
Lighting silver bristles,
Shining the way,
For tiny silver missiles.
4. "You can't have everything; Where would you put it?" (Steven Wright)
5. So if neutrinos can go faster than the speed of light, how could we harness that if
they pass through all tangible matter?
6. "Son, you put the 'shit' in shit."
7. The end.
---------
1. I should remind myself to write the book entitled "Songs That Should Never Be Sung
Aloud To Anyone Ever". This will be a collection of inappropriate, crude, lewd,
gauche, common, and otherwise lowbrow songs meant for purposes of humour and
just to simply get them out of my head. Their lyrical patterns will follow the ones
found in many popular songs. In all likelihood, it will probably become nothing more
than "Invino's Big Book of Dirty Poems".
2. This should probably be called "Random Cow Pies In The Field".
3. Remind me to make a Christmas version of "Songs That Should Never Be Sung Aloud To
Anyone Ever". Naturally, it should be narrated by Morgan Freeman.
4. I knew I was right; Courtney Gains was in both 'Children of the Corn' and 'Hardbodies'.
5. Man, never got any REM sleep last night. I hate it when this happens. Layed there for
four hours in a semi-sleep state until 6:30 this morning. I've a feeling this is going to
affect my Monday Night Football ventures.
6. I've a feeling that I'm going to end up getting denatured alcohol in my eye. My eye itches,
and I have the alcohol on my fingers at the moment.
7. After listening to a bunch of Cabaret bands and singers on last.fm, I've realized a few
things. Most all of them are really crappy. Voltaire is awesome. Vermillion Lies ain't
bad. Abney Park is pretty decent. But the rest of it sounds like butt. I would happily
recommend some Voltaire, however. Oh, and Jason Webley seems to be pretty decent,
too.
8. Everyone should know people of the following five occupations: Police Officer, Lawyer,
Doctor, Mechanic, and a Computer Guy. These seem like people who you will inevitably
find yourself paying at one point in your life within modern society unless you have a
friend.
9/20/11
---------
1. I feel like I'm in a creative lull. I wonder if it may be that I'm not putting myself into
situations that serve as impetus for my creativity. Hmm.
2. Zombina and the Skeletons are cool. Check 'em here.
3. I really wonder about the inspiration that people have for their band names. For example:
Black Math Horseman, The Peculiar Pretzelman, The Mystic Knights of the Oingo
Boingo, and, my favorite, Honest Bob and the Factory-to-Dealer Incentives.
4. I wonder if the band 'The Last Days of Jesus' mean their music to be listened before,
during, or after Passover. And are they talking about the first or second time? This is
so confusing.
5. Given the amount of MSG in Chinese cuisine in the U.S., I wonder if I could rub some Lo
Mein on some day-old cantaloupe and bring back the color in the fruit. After all, Fruit
Fresh was nothing more than MSG, which, by the way, you can buy in your spice aisle.
6. Clockhammer was one of the best bands of which you never heard.
7. I think I deserve to be upset to a slight degree if I sit in my chair for an hour with my fly
down a nobody brings it to my attention. Especially when I already know.
9/21/11
---------
1. Ok, Facebook. You may wonder why I decided to post this one Google's service. It's for
the same reason every infinitesimal chunk of substance that I still like about Facebook is
being wittled away piece by piece with every stupid change you make to the interface. If I
want to drive to the store in my hometown, the city doesn't change the route every few
weeks. The things that I found attractive about using your service are slowly disappearing
with every change. You need to realize that I, among others, don't need you. What will we
do without you? The same damn thing we did before you, and maybe more. With the
competition that has sprung upvwith your success, you can't afford to drive the mainstays
away. But I have a minor solution forvyou: institute a classic view. Otherwise, the more
infrequent I hear from you, the better.
2. There is a suprising amount of people in this world who will attempt to tell intelligent,
smart, creative, and talented people that they are ignorant. I'm reminded of ex-KGB
agent Yuri Bezmenov's explanation of 'normalization', or the changing of a nation over
a period of time to one's own idea of truth, fact, and definition. You can catch some
of Yuri's interviews on Youtube, by the way. It's actually pretty good, and really kind
of depressing and scary.
3. 'Breaking Bad' is an excellent show. It's interesting, comical at times, and it has a different
sort of feel than most shows. But, unlike many other shows I like, it's not very inspiring.
Usually, I feel like I may have creative surges when I start watching or engaging in
something, but not with this show. It's kind of strange, actually. No, I'm not saying I
borrow from these other shows. Think of it more like applying the heat to cook your
dinner. It just gets the juices flowing.
4. I really should apply myself towards getting another scene, at the very least, to the play.
5. I think I need a priest or a rabbi. These printers are surely spawns of the devil, and must
be blessed and/or exorcised.
6. Too bad brass isn't worth a ton of money. I could be swimming in dough right about
now from all this brass lying around in these spare parts.
7. What if it's not that our perspective on time changes a we get older but rather the temporal
stream changes as we get older? Say, for example, it's not that time flies when we get
older, but it's actually "covering less ground' as it reaches its own finality. I think Ted
Theodore Logan just said 'Whoa."
8. I fought the Taco Bell 12-Pack, and the 12-Pack won. I'll have to write that Kobayashi guy
and learn his training secrets. I'll be back, damn you! You can't escape me forever! (This is
me shaking my fist on a blog service.)
9. I made a clerical error yesterday: it's Zombina and the Skeletones.
10. The Creepshow is pretty cool, too. The band, not the show or movie.
9/22/11
---------
1. Taken from a recent Classifieds listing: "FS: Squeaky Shoes". Really? This is a
selling point?
2. Man, my back has been feeling pretty good the past couple of days. I wonder why. Hmm.
3. Man, Kyle Thomas's (Alabama Thunderpussy) voice is monstrous. The guy is a beast.
4. I think if I replace one more printer base I'm going to end up in the bell tower with a rifle.
5. Today, I worked on the second installment or act or fourth scene or whatever of something
that began on here as a whim of three scenes and one act called "Devilishly
Departmental: A Farce". It's called "Devilishly Departmental: Part Deux". I wrote nearly
two entire scenes of what should probably be three scenes. This is why there's probably
not going to be as much content under this date in this post.
9/23/11
----------
1. Damn I'm tired.
2. When martian kids look at the night sky, do they see the martian in the earth?
3. When the tooth is long,
And the beard is gray,
When the moon is bright,
And the sun goes away,
The stars do shine,
Lighting silver bristles,
Shining the way,
For tiny silver missiles.
4. "You can't have everything; Where would you put it?" (Steven Wright)
5. So if neutrinos can go faster than the speed of light, how could we harness that if
they pass through all tangible matter?
6. "Son, you put the 'shit' in shit."
7. The end.
Monday, September 5, 2011
Technical Support Connection
This one goes out to all my friends who have the fortune to be employed at this time, but the misfortune of being employed by the Sitel Corporation doing technical support.
Technical Support Connection
I'm eating corn chips,
I shoot from my hip,
I'm a first-year student,
And barely equipped,
But I'm your technical support connection,
Directing you to remove your microchip.
Now I'm level two,
When your screen is blue,
And you're crying because,
All your work is through,
But I'm your technical support connection,
Denying your next request for something new.
Screaming on the phone,
To the newbie drone,
Diconnected for the,
Fury that you've shown,
From your new technical support connection,
Leaving you to ignite at your home alone.
Returning once more,
Nicer than before,
You get a manager,
To settle the score,
It's me! Your technical support connection,
Your warranty has ended and here's the door!
You've escalated,
Never placated,
You have begged and pleaded,
And then debated,
To your new technical support connection,
Who seemed, a little less than you, elated.
So you have one made,
Think yourself well-played,
But as fate has decided,
It's me that you paid!
Your local technical support connection,
I'm the guy, who for some reason, made the grade.
Invino Veritas
9/5/11
EOF
Technical Support Connection
I'm eating corn chips,
I shoot from my hip,
I'm a first-year student,
And barely equipped,
But I'm your technical support connection,
Directing you to remove your microchip.
Now I'm level two,
When your screen is blue,
And you're crying because,
All your work is through,
But I'm your technical support connection,
Denying your next request for something new.
Screaming on the phone,
To the newbie drone,
Diconnected for the,
Fury that you've shown,
From your new technical support connection,
Leaving you to ignite at your home alone.
Returning once more,
Nicer than before,
You get a manager,
To settle the score,
It's me! Your technical support connection,
Your warranty has ended and here's the door!
You've escalated,
Never placated,
You have begged and pleaded,
And then debated,
To your new technical support connection,
Who seemed, a little less than you, elated.
So you have one made,
Think yourself well-played,
But as fate has decided,
It's me that you paid!
Your local technical support connection,
I'm the guy, who for some reason, made the grade.
Invino Veritas
9/5/11
EOF
Friday, September 2, 2011
The Week In Review
Well, another seven days or so has passed by once again. My normal work has kept me pretty busy and my renewed interest in SlothMUD has taken up some of my time. Football season has officially started in the college realm and that means Fantasy Football, meat on the grill, and overall good times to be had by many. I spent a lot of time this week revisiting some old music from the 80's, too. Namely, I've revisited three bands: Oingo Boingo, Bow Wow Wow, and The Go-Go's. (I have full intention to discuss them in future posts.) Got paid on Wednesday, got poor again by Thursday as all bills are paid at the moment. Thursday night is also raw oyster night at one of the local watering holes here, and accordingly I felt obligated to scarf down about eighteen of them along with some lagers. There's a small voice in my head everytime I eat raw oysters, though, and it says to me "You realize, one day they will kill you, right?" But perhaps it's not only the taste I enjoy but the thrill of the edgewise strafing I enjoy as well. I'll accept both answers at this time.
As we embark upon another Labor Day weekend here in the States, I have no real plans for anything out of the ordinary. I plan to get in some serious couch time and likely watch some Star Trek: Voyager on Netflix. There will be no doubt as to my working on the new area I am creating for SlothMUD. Having recently finsihed a frontier of dinosaurs, I have begun construction of a quest area chock full of a strange array of good, evil, law, and chaos. I am determined on another venture, however. Real world business has caused me to neglect my adventures of Dalmar over at the Bucholera blog, and I fully intend to produce another chapter and bring some resolution to the conflict tha has beset Dalmar and his partner, Sh'lzzt. Labor Day weekend means more than relaxation and personal productivity - at least for many. I have options, and plenty of them should I desire to get away from it all. I reckon I will find time for visiting and manning a grill or two as, once again, it is the beginning of the college football season. But I hate getting busy at work for two major reasons: it keeps me from being involved with my friends and their lives, and it stifles my creativity with unrelated thoughts and stress. I just simply don't produce the quality of material, if at all, when I m that busy with work. It can really be quite disheartening. In as much as all that, I am thankful to have three days with which to work out the details. I think I'm going to leave things on cruise control for a while, and just coast in to the harbor. That seems to be a viable course of action, and also seems to be appropriate given the nature of historic Labor Day activities.
Catch you guys on the flipside of the wormhole.
Peace.
Invino Veritas
9/2/11
EOF
As we embark upon another Labor Day weekend here in the States, I have no real plans for anything out of the ordinary. I plan to get in some serious couch time and likely watch some Star Trek: Voyager on Netflix. There will be no doubt as to my working on the new area I am creating for SlothMUD. Having recently finsihed a frontier of dinosaurs, I have begun construction of a quest area chock full of a strange array of good, evil, law, and chaos. I am determined on another venture, however. Real world business has caused me to neglect my adventures of Dalmar over at the Bucholera blog, and I fully intend to produce another chapter and bring some resolution to the conflict tha has beset Dalmar and his partner, Sh'lzzt. Labor Day weekend means more than relaxation and personal productivity - at least for many. I have options, and plenty of them should I desire to get away from it all. I reckon I will find time for visiting and manning a grill or two as, once again, it is the beginning of the college football season. But I hate getting busy at work for two major reasons: it keeps me from being involved with my friends and their lives, and it stifles my creativity with unrelated thoughts and stress. I just simply don't produce the quality of material, if at all, when I m that busy with work. It can really be quite disheartening. In as much as all that, I am thankful to have three days with which to work out the details. I think I'm going to leave things on cruise control for a while, and just coast in to the harbor. That seems to be a viable course of action, and also seems to be appropriate given the nature of historic Labor Day activities.
Catch you guys on the flipside of the wormhole.
Peace.
Invino Veritas
9/2/11
EOF
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