Nombre Sept
Behold, my disciples, I have returned, and I bring with me curiously long tidings from that strange and foreign land that some call My Friend's House, and also from the deepest and most foul pits of School, for I saw reason to visit there in that I had nothing else to do at the time. First, that gathering of humans which did occur on the 26th. I arrived at the location of said gathering, but was surprised and deeply offended that there were few, if any, large explosions taking place. When I enquired about the explosions, or lack thereof, I was advised to, and I quote, "peel off your face and feast on the goo inside" by the host, whom I promptly stabbed on the perfectly reasonable assumption that he was an evil robotic ninja. Fortunately, he was able to take my little slip of judgement with good humour, and we resumed our conversation about drunken clowns.
When we arrived at (or rather, gradually drifted towards) the shed/Place of Many Deaths, I beheld a most majestic and heart-warming sight. 'Twas an ancient and blood-stained air-hockey table, the kind that places less emphasis on that highly overrated "air" and more on the "hockey" part. I took my place at one end of it, ensuring my participation in the next game by welding the paddle to the raw flesh of my hand. It's painful, but it works!
I fought viciously, and yet badly. At one point I was reduced to simply strangling my sisterly opponent until the paddle fell from her cold, lifeless hands. Having beaten all comers through the use of this hithero undiscovered "strategy", I retired undefeated after seven hundred games.
After all the guests were lying dead around me, I relaxed in the host's high-backed, leather computer chair and played a couple of games of Quake. Strangely, I also won all those games as well, though that could be attributed to the fact that my opponents were tied to their keyboards with their own intestines.
Secondly, the news from school. There exists in that place a certain person, who is widely considered to be foul knave of ill reputation. That he saw fit to create his own blog in no way redeems him, but rather exacerbates his "knave-ness". This ill-advised course of action would not have been particularly significant, had he not BLATANTLY COPIED OFF THE DESIGN AND CONTENT OF THIS BLOG! My righteous anger knew no bounds when I was advised of this! Fortunately, the blog in question was deleted with a minimal of coercion, in that a simple blow to the face was all it took to knock him backwards into the large, prominent, red "DELETE" button on his keyboard.
Until next time, I take my leave.
When we arrived at (or rather, gradually drifted towards) the shed/Place of Many Deaths, I beheld a most majestic and heart-warming sight. 'Twas an ancient and blood-stained air-hockey table, the kind that places less emphasis on that highly overrated "air" and more on the "hockey" part. I took my place at one end of it, ensuring my participation in the next game by welding the paddle to the raw flesh of my hand. It's painful, but it works!
I fought viciously, and yet badly. At one point I was reduced to simply strangling my sisterly opponent until the paddle fell from her cold, lifeless hands. Having beaten all comers through the use of this hithero undiscovered "strategy", I retired undefeated after seven hundred games.
After all the guests were lying dead around me, I relaxed in the host's high-backed, leather computer chair and played a couple of games of Quake. Strangely, I also won all those games as well, though that could be attributed to the fact that my opponents were tied to their keyboards with their own intestines.
Secondly, the news from school. There exists in that place a certain person, who is widely considered to be foul knave of ill reputation. That he saw fit to create his own blog in no way redeems him, but rather exacerbates his "knave-ness". This ill-advised course of action would not have been particularly significant, had he not BLATANTLY COPIED OFF THE DESIGN AND CONTENT OF THIS BLOG! My righteous anger knew no bounds when I was advised of this! Fortunately, the blog in question was deleted with a minimal of coercion, in that a simple blow to the face was all it took to knock him backwards into the large, prominent, red "DELETE" button on his keyboard.
Until next time, I take my leave.
posted by Nova Invicta | 1:06 AM
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