I'm twenty.
In the woods, the people I hung out with were all in their early to mid thirties.
Most of them were fuckwits.

"Adults are just obsolete children and the hell with them."

-Dr. Suess.

I'm just a twelve year old, bearded little boy.


Wearing a spiderman T shirt right now.

My dreams never include video games.

Last night I dreamt that I was back in elementary school, playing a game of kickball. The teacher and children didn't seem to notice I'm an adult, and when I tried to explain to them that I'm not actually a member of the class the teacher said she'd fail me for the day if I continued my attitude, so I was forced to play.

So I played.

There was a bullyboy in class, I hated him. Eleven year old kid. Throughout the game, it was my major goal to biff the ball at him, to pelt him so hard in the face that he'd fly a few feet and get hurt pretty badly.

When I kicked the ball, unfortunately, it went so far out of bounds that it was unretrievable. Yes, it was a home run, but that was the only ball.

So, what the teacher did was she wadded up a bunch of paper and duct taped it all together into a makeshift ball. When it was finally time for me to pitch, I rolled the thing to the bullyboy, and when he kicked it, it only came forward a few feet. It didn't have very bouncy properties. When I retrieved it and tried to pelt him, the ball didn't go very fast or very far. I was disappointed.

Also, I just recently had a nightmare. The whole thing was animated in watercolor paints. There was this pile of people next to one giant guy--the giant guy looked like somebody from twisted sister. He was watching all the little people in the pile squirm. They were covered in tar, fighting each other.

One guy reached the top of the pile, he was smoking a cigarrette, he kept fighting, pounding his fists into the people below.

Finally, the twisted sister giant opened his mouth and said, in a deep, booming voice, 'come join me, my son' and then he opened his mouth like a snake--jaw dislocated, and his tongue slipped out. His tongue stretched all the way down to the pile of fighting people, wrapped itself around the guy that was smoking a cigarette, and pulled him into his mouth. The guy that was smoking was thinking, 'oh shit!' in a little thought bubble above his head.

The twisted sister guy started chewing, happily, biting the arms and legs and things off the little guy in his mouth, and while the little guy was being chewed up in agony the cigarette ash fell, landed on what was left of his tar covered body, and he caught fire. Outside, the giant twisted sister guy made a face like a bee had just stung him in the mouth. He held it for a while, without chewing, then said, 'bleeeeaaaagh!!" and spat the fireball man out, which landed on the pile of fighting tarry people, who caught fire, and that was when I woke up.


Those are my dreams. No video games in them, but they ARE pretty indie.

Women have babies, sometimes.

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POLITICALLY INCORRECT STATEMENT.

You can message Derek, he has the power to move  posts.

Experiences, memories

There was a trailer in the forest. Used to belong to an old dead couple, but it was on my family's land so I moved in.

Woke up covered in ants.

The food pantry. I was out of place there. An old lady wouldn't let me leave--I wanted to leave when I got enough food to sustain myself for a while, but she wouldn't let me leave. Brought me into a back room where they kept a bunch of clothes. Measured my waist, every time I tried to leave she wouldn't let me, she'd cut me off midsentence. Fished through pants, couldn't find any small enough around the waist and long enough. Eventually brought out an old pair of sweatpants.

Woke up with a mouse looking down at me from the windowsill, curiously.

Sitting naked in the lawn when I was four years old, smiling at the camera. I don't remember the actual experience, but I remember the photograph. Whole thing was tinted green, making the windowsill on the house behind me look an unnatural shade of blue. Same color as the shelves in the food pantry. I bet if I could see in through that darkened window I'd see myself, pawing through corn flakes from the year 2005. Wonder what my naked young self would think of that.

Watching as Captain Jellyhair tried to run his wood mill. He had the guards taken off, because he felt safety equipment was just for show. He sat on one end of the log to keep it level as the bandsaw made its way towards his nuts.

Saving his two year old daughter from the wild mustang. Pulled her away really quick. Wonder what would have happened if I wasn't there.

Chainsaws. I remember removing the drive sprocket and seeing it was completely dinged to hell. Probably would have broke the chain had I used it anymore. That would have been it for me. "Chaps may be hot, but so is blood running down your leg."

Slapping a c-note down on the bartop, looking coldly into Willy the bartender's eyes and saying, in my most hard boiled voice, 'gimme some snickers.' Receiving my two candy bars and ninety eight dollars change, walking coolly out the door.

The cold and rainy day that my truck caught fire.

Haha this hilarious because its exactly what I felt like all my English teachers used to do with the classic novels and plays.

My ninth grade english teacher was like that.

We read a book called 'the little house on mango street.' It was a compilation of vignettes that told the story of a girl who wanted to live in a little house in mango street. One of the vignettes was about a kid named Darius who looked at the sky, pointed at a cloud, and said "that's god."

My english teacher adamantly explained to us that the kid was actually behind-the-scenes a raging alcoholic, and when he said the cloud in the sky was god, it was a symbol for 'sky vodka.'







Also, didn't someone here post an article once about the portals in portal symbolizing vaginas and feminism and such?

Also!


I watched the Palin-Biden debate a while ago. Palin didn't really come out with any substance, (in fact her closing statement sounded like she was accepting an academy award, "I'd like to thank yada yada for being here," and so on and so forth) but she frequently called herself a Maverick.

She batted her eyelashes, did a lot of flirty looks, and called herself a maverick.



But that's nothing new. I've been watching all the debates and conventions, and it seems that's the official republican slogan this time around.

I am now going to impart upon you, tigsource, ancient farmer wisdom:

A "maverick" is actually a calf that's either rejected by the mother or doesn't have a mother. They're crafty--they get their milk by butting smaller calves away from their real mothers and stealing.

Something about that is funny.

Hahaha, funny!

Tackling is just one of the valid routes to dealing with politicians like Palin. I've dealt with them before.

Northwoods of wisconsin. Bustling town of Hurley. Official population: 1818.

Official unemployment rates are up to 10%. Fact: Census unemployment rates are gathered based on the percentage of a population that qualifies and files for unemployment benefits. As soon as you're off the system, soon as you stop qualifying, you drop off. The real percentage of unemployment is usually higher than the official percentage, though it's hard to determine.

To bring things into perspective: A walmart just sprung up in Ironwood, the town right next to Hurley. There are 6000 people in the county. Towns are spread very far apart, I've known many people to commute up to 80 miles just to get to their minimum wage jobs.

There is a certain breed of politician in places like that. People aren't very well educated, so typically neither are the politicians.

There was a lot of republican propaganda in the race for city commissioner. That's typical, republicans have a huge yellow journalism machine and you'd be pretty hard pressed to make the argument that the democrats and progressives have anything as that really compares. Micheal Moore isn't exactly backed by the party, and Rush Limbough and the other republican Goebbels have their own popular radio station, a subsidiary of the big Fox News corporation.

The library happened to be going through an expansion during the election. One of the candidates put forth the idea that it was draining the life out of the place. I remember his name. Lou Bonagura. Made allegations that the people in office 'shuffled' 20,000 dollars from a planned cemetery to the library for the planned expansion. Said that this was also the reason the police force was inadequate to keep the crystal meth down, that it was also the reason that the fire department was piddly, that it was also the reason that the water bills were high.

In reality, water bills were high because the area was going through a recordbreaking drought and the great lakes and the aquifer were down, the police department had few employees because the area has a small population, the fire department was just a ramshackle volunteer operation.

I still remember looking at his forums. He posted about the library--and as I recall he made multiple spelling and syntax errors. He closed his message with "I hope you all join me in on this trip."

I blew a fuse. Spammed the hell out of his internets. He lost the election. 

How appropriate, you fight like a cow. You know, since you said I fight like a dairy farmer. Which is something on which I strongly disagree with you, by the way. I believe my fighting is versatile and no like that of a dairy farmer. Or any farmer, for that matter.

 


Oh yeah!? Well, you're as repulsive as a monkey in a negligee!

I remember reading that bit about the quintology in their instructions manuals and being hyped up. They said each game they made would feature a different character of a different race or something like that, and that each official game would have a spin-off or two, like Abe's exodus.

Those lying jerks!

But a movie is cool too, I suppose.

http://garfieldminusgarfield.net/

Also!

[ow!]

Goddamnit, ow!

I'm never using the internet again.

Legitimate businessman.

If anyone asks what TIGSource is about just show them this screencap

http://gallery.live.com/liveItemDetail.aspx?li=365818ce-1e1d-4c68-a0f3-815217e3fae3&bt=1&pl=1


 

It gets old after the first couple weeks.

I used to eat bear.
I used to eat their livers.
I don't know how tigers taste, though.

I always thought quote swung the sword and then the ghost shot out, swiping everything in its path.

Weird that there are so many interpretations of what the heck is going on with that level three sword. Come to think of it, it's a really strange attack.

he doesnt have a sword noticably in the sprite.

quote carries a sword, its kings sword.

You know, I never even noticed that. I just sort of assumed that all the slashes from the lvl3 sword were from king's sword moving so fast you couldn't see it.

The short stories of Cordwainer Smith.

Would be a good MMO. Not that I'm into that kind of thing, but his universe really really would. He was way ahead of his time. I doubt anyone ever heard of him, though. He tried his best not to be popular. Every time he gained an audience he changed his pseudonym and wrote in a different genre. Settled on sci fi with cordwainer smith. Stupid jerk should have stuck with it and let his audience grow.