OOT!*
SOREN THE HARD-OF-HEARING SCRIBE GOT A HAIRCUT!
As I'm sure you know, there are three major styles of Viking Haircuts. Soren, however, is trying to be... 'Hip', and he's been claiming all VIkings haircuts all out of fashion, style, and hygiene. We'v all been scoffing at him, since all vikings are prety dang hip with their haircuts. I mean, its not like we've been keeping haircuts since a 1000 years before!
Oh wait, the time machine incident....
Ok, maybe Soren's right; we've been keeping haircuts since before we got into that time machine. But a MOHAWK? Old dudes like Soren should NOT wear a mohawk. THIS is what Vikings wear:
1.) BRAIDS: You know, that opera-style, fat lady wanna-be-viking singing about LOVE and PRETTINESS? Well, that hair style. Dudes can fly it just as cool as chicks can, TOO.
2.) Afro: Um... only posers have afros. Like Phil the Conceited. But he usually wear in under his helmet, so you can't even see it, which is a blessing for EVERYONE.
3.) Buzzcut: MY HAIR STYLE! The only bad thing about it is that it just helps the other VIkings make fun of me. Since you know... I don't have facial hair. Unlike every other Viking. INCLUDING Lulu the Loud.
I... I... I... IM TOO DEPRESSED TO FINISH THIS!
OLAF THE CRYING BALD SAD MALITTLE MAN!
*In Viking's terms, OOT means 'Oh Our Thor'.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
ONE HUNDRED!
Wow, this is the One Hundredth Post! Awesome! Who didn't think I'd make this far, eh? Eh? Well, I didn't. Let's see what happens when we hit ANOTHER One Hundred!
But first, a rousing song, sung by the cast of Viking Rants: by Olaf the Bald!*
WHOO! Happy One Hundred, Everyone!
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*Until someone corrects me, I am giving credit for this song parody to these guys. I asume Blind Ferret intended this to be a parody of a real song. But if you know the REAL song, comment. PLEASE!
But first, a rousing song, sung by the cast of Viking Rants: by Olaf the Bald!*
Me: I love my Nun-Chucks,
I love when they crack skulls.
Gregory the Hairy: I love to lead them,
I love the horns of bulls.
Me: I love the whole world
Except for Penguins
My Fans: Boom De Ah Da, Boom De Ah Da, Boom De Ah Da, Boom De Ah Da
George the Yellow: I love screaming AH!
Omar the Bold: I love to hate Olaf!
Lulu the Loud: I love that Erik!
Erik the Noisy: I love to talk, talk!
Me: I love the whole world,
But Laotogos
My Fans: Boom De Ah Da, Boom De Ah Da, Boom De Ah Da, Boom De Ah Da
Phil the Conceited: I love all of mwah,
Yeah, me, myself, and I
Ninja Joe: I love to kill Vikes,
Stab 'em straight through the eye
Soren the Hard-of-Hearing Scribe: I love the whole world,
But I'm really old, though
My Fans: Boom De Ah Da, Boom De Ah Da, Boom De Ah Da, Boom De Ah Da
Boom De Ah Da, Boom De Ah Da, Boom De Ah Da, Boom De Ah Da
WHOO! Happy One Hundred, Everyone!
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*Until someone corrects me, I am giving credit for this song parody to these guys. I asume Blind Ferret intended this to be a parody of a real song. But if you know the REAL song, comment. PLEASE!
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Wooden Pipes
I remembered what I was trying to talk about in the post 'Thoughts' last week! So here we go!
Whenever I'm bored, I go tromping in the woods outside of Urbia, Greenland, grab some hapless stick off the ground, and whittle me stuff. As I've mentioned before, I'm good at that kind of stuff, especially since I've talked about making boats, nun-chucks, and underwear. No, wait, I haven't talked about the underwear part yet. My bad.
Anyway, I figured out that people think I'm unsophisticated. I have no idea where they got this from, but EVERYONE I know seems to think this.
Hold on, I gotta relieve myself.
This is Omar the Bold. He thinks everyone thinks he's unsophisticated because I convinced everyone to say that he's unsophisticated to him today. Bye.
Magic bolded text from Thor that I'm not allowed to read! Anyway, I sat down, and thought, and thought, and thought, and you know what I figured out? There's only one common factor that all sophisticated people share with one another, and that's this: They all smoke pipes.
Now, I don't do drugs, despite the fact that many people think I act like I've had a little too much of the stuff*, so you've got to understand that when I say I've whittled me a pipe, I've whittled a stick into a pipe-shaped apparatus. So yeah. Whenever I want to look sophisticated now, all I have to do is whip out my pipe-looking stick and say things like 'Blimey' and 'Tally-HO!'
I'm just cool like that.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*Some people just don't get the difference between 'CRAZY' and 'DRUG ADDICT'.
Whenever I'm bored, I go tromping in the woods outside of Urbia, Greenland, grab some hapless stick off the ground, and whittle me stuff. As I've mentioned before, I'm good at that kind of stuff, especially since I've talked about making boats, nun-chucks, and underwear. No, wait, I haven't talked about the underwear part yet. My bad.
Anyway, I figured out that people think I'm unsophisticated. I have no idea where they got this from, but EVERYONE I know seems to think this.
Hold on, I gotta relieve myself.
This is Omar the Bold. He thinks everyone thinks he's unsophisticated because I convinced everyone to say that he's unsophisticated to him today. Bye.
Magic bolded text from Thor that I'm not allowed to read! Anyway, I sat down, and thought, and thought, and thought, and you know what I figured out? There's only one common factor that all sophisticated people share with one another, and that's this: They all smoke pipes.
Now, I don't do drugs, despite the fact that many people think I act like I've had a little too much of the stuff*, so you've got to understand that when I say I've whittled me a pipe, I've whittled a stick into a pipe-shaped apparatus. So yeah. Whenever I want to look sophisticated now, all I have to do is whip out my pipe-looking stick and say things like 'Blimey' and 'Tally-HO!'
I'm just cool like that.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*Some people just don't get the difference between 'CRAZY' and 'DRUG ADDICT'.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Summer Files: Post Laotogo
Ok, here's what happened after the shocking discovery we made, which I explained in the previous post:
The huge wave dumped all eight of us onto the beaches of Urbia, where we found the families of the fifty some-odd Vikings who perished in the Laotogo attack weeping and wailing for all it was worth. Chieftain Gregory the Hairy stomped off into the woods, where he inexplicitly came back along the shore with a newly furnished boat, which he called the Bloodhound 2, and around fifty more Vikings. It was like movie magic. He then informed the fifty vikings that they were to report to the town pastors, who would quickly marry them to the dead vikings' families. The weeping stopped, and the Vikings fit in like nothing had happened. Gregory then sent a report to Lief the Armless, explaining what we had seen, and what that meant for the world in general.
Our posse (Omar the Bold, Soren the Hard-of-Hearing Scribe, Erik the Red, George the Yellow, Phil the Conceited, and Me) and Lulu the Loud tramped onto the new boat to check it out. As we explored, introducing ourselves to the new crewmates who had remained on board and silently thinking of how, as secondary characters, they might be gone within the week, Erik and Lulu made an announcement that they were going out.
Now, as you all know, once one of your buds in your posse gets a GF (or BF, as the case may be with feminine posses), that GF is automatically inducted into the posse, however temporary it might be. So, Lulu has joined our posse... for now, at least. I guess that means she's probably not going to die, unless its for Erik to work through some intenal turmoil segment. I dunno.
As for me? After the tour, I came to post this post. What does this mean for us as a people, as for all the inhabitants of the world? If the Laotogo really is owned by someone, what sort of power does this someone have? Why is this person allowing the Laotogo to threaten the world? Is this person some super-powered freak with nothing to lose?
If so, we've got a heck of a battle ahead of us.
Good luck, people of the world.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
The huge wave dumped all eight of us onto the beaches of Urbia, where we found the families of the fifty some-odd Vikings who perished in the Laotogo attack weeping and wailing for all it was worth. Chieftain Gregory the Hairy stomped off into the woods, where he inexplicitly came back along the shore with a newly furnished boat, which he called the Bloodhound 2, and around fifty more Vikings. It was like movie magic. He then informed the fifty vikings that they were to report to the town pastors, who would quickly marry them to the dead vikings' families. The weeping stopped, and the Vikings fit in like nothing had happened. Gregory then sent a report to Lief the Armless, explaining what we had seen, and what that meant for the world in general.
Our posse (Omar the Bold, Soren the Hard-of-Hearing Scribe, Erik the Red, George the Yellow, Phil the Conceited, and Me) and Lulu the Loud tramped onto the new boat to check it out. As we explored, introducing ourselves to the new crewmates who had remained on board and silently thinking of how, as secondary characters, they might be gone within the week, Erik and Lulu made an announcement that they were going out.
Now, as you all know, once one of your buds in your posse gets a GF (or BF, as the case may be with feminine posses), that GF is automatically inducted into the posse, however temporary it might be. So, Lulu has joined our posse... for now, at least. I guess that means she's probably not going to die, unless its for Erik to work through some intenal turmoil segment. I dunno.
As for me? After the tour, I came to post this post. What does this mean for us as a people, as for all the inhabitants of the world? If the Laotogo really is owned by someone, what sort of power does this someone have? Why is this person allowing the Laotogo to threaten the world? Is this person some super-powered freak with nothing to lose?
If so, we've got a heck of a battle ahead of us.
Good luck, people of the world.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Friday, June 26, 2009
Summer Files: Laotogo 5
Welp, I jinxed us.
This morning, we all woke up, relaxed and refreshed from a sleepfilled night. We all were expecting the Laotogo to leave us alone. But, something was bothering me: Why hadn't we seen it? But, nothing happened for the entire morning, and I pushed it aside.
We ate lunch.
Three hours later, we all felt a large bump against the side of the boat. Everyone ran to the sides to see what was going on, and to our horror, we saw two huge yellow frog eyes, each one a least fifty times bigger than the ship.
Despite all odds, the Laotogo had decided to make its move.
Only five vikings had enough sense to dive off the boat just as the massive frog opened its mouth wide. Four others fell, as I recall, which makes a huge difference. I jumped, carrying only my Duct Tape Monstrosity (My helmet), Nunchaku, Machete (My Father's Battleax has been retired, remember?), and Laptop, the one on which I am blogging you now. Phil jumped, screaming "Not the Face! Not the Face!" And splashed into the water next to me. Omar the Bold tackled Soren the Hard-of-Hearing-Scribe and George the Yellow off the boat with him, those three landing on the other side of the boat, which was the one nearest the Laotogo. Erik the Noisy grabbed Lulu the Loud in a tight bear hug and dove off after Phil. Gregory the Hairy yelled, "EVERYONE JUMP!" and dove off just as the Laotogo's super long, super fast tongue shot out of his open mouth, grabbed the Bloodhound, and sucked it into its huge, froggy mouth. I saw a few vikings fall off, but they were just as quickly devoured.
The ship had just gone over Omar's, Soren's, and George's heads, and they swam over to the rest of us as the two yellow, froggy eyes turned its gaze on us. Everyone stopped, staring quietly back at the frog with a determined expression on their face. Except for Lulu... She was bawling her eyes out in Erik's arms, shrieking "I DON'T WANT TO DIE!" And Phil, who was yelling, "Not the Face! Not the FACE!" And Soren, who was saying, "This is an epic way to die, my friends." And George, who was gasping so loud he was hyperventilating. But besides that, everyone stared solemnly at the beast, awaiting our doom.
The Laotogo burped.
Pieces of the Bloodhound flew from its' mouth, a large chunk landing right beside us. The Laotogo sank beneath the water.
We clambered on, warily looking around for its attack. The eight of us sat shivering on the broken boat piece, looking around for any sign of the huge frog. A minute passed.
Suddenly, the Frog leapt out of the water, soaring high above our heads. Everyone gasped, not for fear of the frog hitting us, since we could tell it was going to make it over our heads, but for the metal band strapped around its back left leg. It had some sort of writing on it that no-one could read, but we all knew what it meant.
Someone owns the Laotogo.
I'm ending the post here for now. Thank Thor for Waterproof laptops, I say. When the frog landed back in the water, it sent up a tidal wave that our little boat piece has been surfing. As far as Soren says, its taking us right back to Urbia, Greenland, which was a brilliant stroke of luck.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
This morning, we all woke up, relaxed and refreshed from a sleepfilled night. We all were expecting the Laotogo to leave us alone. But, something was bothering me: Why hadn't we seen it? But, nothing happened for the entire morning, and I pushed it aside.
We ate lunch.
Three hours later, we all felt a large bump against the side of the boat. Everyone ran to the sides to see what was going on, and to our horror, we saw two huge yellow frog eyes, each one a least fifty times bigger than the ship.
Despite all odds, the Laotogo had decided to make its move.
Only five vikings had enough sense to dive off the boat just as the massive frog opened its mouth wide. Four others fell, as I recall, which makes a huge difference. I jumped, carrying only my Duct Tape Monstrosity (My helmet), Nunchaku, Machete (My Father's Battleax has been retired, remember?), and Laptop, the one on which I am blogging you now. Phil jumped, screaming "Not the Face! Not the Face!" And splashed into the water next to me. Omar the Bold tackled Soren the Hard-of-Hearing-Scribe and George the Yellow off the boat with him, those three landing on the other side of the boat, which was the one nearest the Laotogo. Erik the Noisy grabbed Lulu the Loud in a tight bear hug and dove off after Phil. Gregory the Hairy yelled, "EVERYONE JUMP!" and dove off just as the Laotogo's super long, super fast tongue shot out of his open mouth, grabbed the Bloodhound, and sucked it into its huge, froggy mouth. I saw a few vikings fall off, but they were just as quickly devoured.
The ship had just gone over Omar's, Soren's, and George's heads, and they swam over to the rest of us as the two yellow, froggy eyes turned its gaze on us. Everyone stopped, staring quietly back at the frog with a determined expression on their face. Except for Lulu... She was bawling her eyes out in Erik's arms, shrieking "I DON'T WANT TO DIE!" And Phil, who was yelling, "Not the Face! Not the FACE!" And Soren, who was saying, "This is an epic way to die, my friends." And George, who was gasping so loud he was hyperventilating. But besides that, everyone stared solemnly at the beast, awaiting our doom.
The Laotogo burped.
Pieces of the Bloodhound flew from its' mouth, a large chunk landing right beside us. The Laotogo sank beneath the water.
We clambered on, warily looking around for its attack. The eight of us sat shivering on the broken boat piece, looking around for any sign of the huge frog. A minute passed.
Suddenly, the Frog leapt out of the water, soaring high above our heads. Everyone gasped, not for fear of the frog hitting us, since we could tell it was going to make it over our heads, but for the metal band strapped around its back left leg. It had some sort of writing on it that no-one could read, but we all knew what it meant.
Someone owns the Laotogo.
I'm ending the post here for now. Thank Thor for Waterproof laptops, I say. When the frog landed back in the water, it sent up a tidal wave that our little boat piece has been surfing. As far as Soren says, its taking us right back to Urbia, Greenland, which was a brilliant stroke of luck.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Summer Files: Laotogo 4
From the Diary of Olaf the Bald, Day 4:
Everyone is much more relaxed today. It's like a big weight has been lifted off everyone's chests, simply because Gregory the Hairy came into the dining hall during breakfast and announced, "The other scouting ships looking for the Laotogo who were attacked were all attacked during the first three days of looking. The other ships all made it back safely. I think we're good to go, boys."
The entire ship erupted into cheers. I think Phil the Conceited even said 'Good Job!' to someone. It was like a movie, but without any actual action... well, unless you count the Viking Barroom brawl yesterday... without any love... Oh wait, Lulu the Loud and Erik the Noisy did share that passionate kiss during the announcement... and without a happy ending... Oh wait, we're not all going to die! That's happy in my book!
Well, I'm sorry that I've made you all depressed the last couple of days, but I think this Laotogo saga is just about over. Soon I'll be getting back to my regular posts! Hooray! At least until my Bucket adventure two weeks from now. SO, in any case, though I'll still be on the Bloodhound, I'm calling the Summer Files: Laotogo saga over. No more Summer Files for at least a week and a half! Just regular posts without any sort of continuing storyline, just maybe some Advice or Anecdotes!
I overdid it, didn't I?
Overdid=Jink... (said in a whisper...)
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Everyone is much more relaxed today. It's like a big weight has been lifted off everyone's chests, simply because Gregory the Hairy came into the dining hall during breakfast and announced, "The other scouting ships looking for the Laotogo who were attacked were all attacked during the first three days of looking. The other ships all made it back safely. I think we're good to go, boys."
The entire ship erupted into cheers. I think Phil the Conceited even said 'Good Job!' to someone. It was like a movie, but without any actual action... well, unless you count the Viking Barroom brawl yesterday... without any love... Oh wait, Lulu the Loud and Erik the Noisy did share that passionate kiss during the announcement... and without a happy ending... Oh wait, we're not all going to die! That's happy in my book!
Well, I'm sorry that I've made you all depressed the last couple of days, but I think this Laotogo saga is just about over. Soon I'll be getting back to my regular posts! Hooray! At least until my Bucket adventure two weeks from now. SO, in any case, though I'll still be on the Bloodhound, I'm calling the Summer Files: Laotogo saga over. No more Summer Files for at least a week and a half! Just regular posts without any sort of continuing storyline, just maybe some Advice or Anecdotes!
I overdid it, didn't I?
Overdid=Jink... (said in a whisper...)
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Summer Files: Laotogo 3
From the Diary of Olaf the Bald, Day 3:
Still Nothing. The watchman last night, George the Yellow, swears he heard a ribbit just off the right side of our boat, but no one believes him. Well, I take that back. Soren the Hard-of-Hearing Scribe, Erik the Red, Omar the Bold and I believe him. Phil the Conceited might believe him if he wasn't so concerned with himself. Basically, our posse believes him. Everyone else has laughed at George the rest of the time.
It's so INTENSE on this ship. Everyone is being surly and grumpy with one another. It's what happens when your death hangs over you like a knife on a fraying rope. During lunch today, a huge fight including everyone erupted, simply because someone accidentally bumped another person's tray. Only two people died, and we suspect that it their own fault, so no super loss.
A feeling of despair hangs over the air. Something big is going to happen soon.
Very soon.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Still Nothing. The watchman last night, George the Yellow, swears he heard a ribbit just off the right side of our boat, but no one believes him. Well, I take that back. Soren the Hard-of-Hearing Scribe, Erik the Red, Omar the Bold and I believe him. Phil the Conceited might believe him if he wasn't so concerned with himself. Basically, our posse believes him. Everyone else has laughed at George the rest of the time.
It's so INTENSE on this ship. Everyone is being surly and grumpy with one another. It's what happens when your death hangs over you like a knife on a fraying rope. During lunch today, a huge fight including everyone erupted, simply because someone accidentally bumped another person's tray. Only two people died, and we suspect that it their own fault, so no super loss.
A feeling of despair hangs over the air. Something big is going to happen soon.
Very soon.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Summer Files: Laotogo 2
From the Diary of Olaf the Bald, Day 2:
This.
Is.
KILLER!
Everyone is on edge. Even Omar the Bold yelled at me today. He never does that!
Hold on, someone's calling me.
Yes. Yes, I yell at him ALL the time. -Omar the Bold.
Magic bolded text from Thor! Cool! I'd better not look at it!
Anyway, two whole days without seeing the Laotogo just wracks, just WRACKS your nerves, especially when you should have already seen it. For all we know, its deep beneath the ocean surface, just WAITING for a chance to stick out its super long tongue and devour us all. ARGH!
Even Chieftain Gregory the Hairy is worried. You can tell by the way he stands at the front of the boat, clasping his hands behind his back and staring forward. No, wait, what am I talking about? It's the way he stands there saying "I'm worried." Yeah, that's how we know he's nervous, not that other thing.
OH NO I THNK WEVE BING ATTACK!ED
Whoo... False alarm, it was just a log hitting the side of the boat. I don't know if I'm going to be mentally healthy after this...
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
This.
Is.
KILLER!
Everyone is on edge. Even Omar the Bold yelled at me today. He never does that!
Hold on, someone's calling me.
Yes. Yes, I yell at him ALL the time. -Omar the Bold.
Magic bolded text from Thor! Cool! I'd better not look at it!
Anyway, two whole days without seeing the Laotogo just wracks, just WRACKS your nerves, especially when you should have already seen it. For all we know, its deep beneath the ocean surface, just WAITING for a chance to stick out its super long tongue and devour us all. ARGH!
Even Chieftain Gregory the Hairy is worried. You can tell by the way he stands at the front of the boat, clasping his hands behind his back and staring forward. No, wait, what am I talking about? It's the way he stands there saying "I'm worried." Yeah, that's how we know he's nervous, not that other thing.
OH NO I THNK WEVE BING ATTACK!ED
Whoo... False alarm, it was just a log hitting the side of the boat. I don't know if I'm going to be mentally healthy after this...
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Monday, June 22, 2009
Summer Files: Laotogo
DISCLAIMER: This post heavily references prior posts. The Author (Olaf the Bald, which is me) recommends you read some other posts before selecting this one. Thank you. Now you can't sue Olaf the Bald (which is me).
The Diary of Olaf the Bald, Day 1:
It's quiet out here on the Bloodhound. Too Quiet.
Now, since this isn't a Diary, but a blog, I can write as though you all are going to be the last ones who read the last thing I wrote, and I don't even have to it in a future tense! But since I'm a good fellow, I'll update you on what's happening on this trip.
Early this morning, Chieftain Gregory the Hairy woke the crew, who had all packed the night before. Every single last crew member came on the trip, including Me, Gregory, Erik the Red, Omar the Bold, Phil the Conceited, George the Yellow, and Soren the Hard-of-Hearing-Scribe. Now, there ARE about fifty other Vikings on the ship, but they're not main characters, so it doesn't matter if they live or die anyway, since they'll be in explicitly replaced in the next scene. You know how these epics are.
Anyway, every single Viking had a grim conscience as they boarded, since all know the Laotogo is deadly, but seeking it out is suicide. For those who don't know, the Laotogo is the largest frog in existance, more dangerous than the Kraken, since it can go on land and go in the water. It has been hibernating for the last thousand years after the most powerful archmages from the nine most powerful classes (at that time) locked it into a giant ice cube. But, it has thawed.
The Vikings are the only class who are still trying to stop the Laotogo, since its only been around forty years (for us) since the Laotogo first attacked, due to our time traveling incident and our skipping over 900 years in the timeline of the classes. But you can read all that in other posts. Basically, the point is, right now, Vikings are the world's last defense to stop the Laotogo from destroying life as we know it, since archmages no longer exist to freeze it.
Every week, the Viking Leader, Leif the Armless, my mentor who took my father's place after he was killed by Joe Ninja, sends out a Viking crew to find out more information for the Laotogo's movements. Many Vikings have died in this attempt alone.
And now its our turn.
For the whole day, we've been steadily patrolling, looking for some sign of the Laotogo, since other Crews say the Giant frog comes near this area, around two hundred miles off the coast of Greenland, where I live, of course.
No sign of the Laotogo so far today, I guess.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
The Diary of Olaf the Bald, Day 1:
It's quiet out here on the Bloodhound. Too Quiet.
Now, since this isn't a Diary, but a blog, I can write as though you all are going to be the last ones who read the last thing I wrote, and I don't even have to it in a future tense! But since I'm a good fellow, I'll update you on what's happening on this trip.
Early this morning, Chieftain Gregory the Hairy woke the crew, who had all packed the night before. Every single last crew member came on the trip, including Me, Gregory, Erik the Red, Omar the Bold, Phil the Conceited, George the Yellow, and Soren the Hard-of-Hearing-Scribe. Now, there ARE about fifty other Vikings on the ship, but they're not main characters, so it doesn't matter if they live or die anyway, since they'll be in explicitly replaced in the next scene. You know how these epics are.
Anyway, every single Viking had a grim conscience as they boarded, since all know the Laotogo is deadly, but seeking it out is suicide. For those who don't know, the Laotogo is the largest frog in existance, more dangerous than the Kraken, since it can go on land and go in the water. It has been hibernating for the last thousand years after the most powerful archmages from the nine most powerful classes (at that time) locked it into a giant ice cube. But, it has thawed.
The Vikings are the only class who are still trying to stop the Laotogo, since its only been around forty years (for us) since the Laotogo first attacked, due to our time traveling incident and our skipping over 900 years in the timeline of the classes. But you can read all that in other posts. Basically, the point is, right now, Vikings are the world's last defense to stop the Laotogo from destroying life as we know it, since archmages no longer exist to freeze it.
Every week, the Viking Leader, Leif the Armless, my mentor who took my father's place after he was killed by Joe Ninja, sends out a Viking crew to find out more information for the Laotogo's movements. Many Vikings have died in this attempt alone.
And now its our turn.
For the whole day, we've been steadily patrolling, looking for some sign of the Laotogo, since other Crews say the Giant frog comes near this area, around two hundred miles off the coast of Greenland, where I live, of course.
No sign of the Laotogo so far today, I guess.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Thoughts
Did you know there's a Butts County, GA?
How embarrassing.
I decided recently that It's time to retire my father's battleax. It's getting old, dull, and I want it to stay in pretty good shape as a memory for him. So it's going to go up on some pegs, but I will NEVER, NEVER do what the guy did in this post.
So, what shall help me complete my Wildanceamancer attack style? I have purcha... STOLEN a machete. It shall now be my secondary weapon.
I wanted to say something on pipes...
Um...
Next week: The hunt for the Laotogo!
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
How embarrassing.
I decided recently that It's time to retire my father's battleax. It's getting old, dull, and I want it to stay in pretty good shape as a memory for him. So it's going to go up on some pegs, but I will NEVER, NEVER do what the guy did in this post.
So, what shall help me complete my Wildanceamancer attack style? I have purcha... STOLEN a machete. It shall now be my secondary weapon.
I wanted to say something on pipes...
Um...
Next week: The hunt for the Laotogo!
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Boat seats
You know how, in cars, there's always some annoying person who runs up and yells, "I call shotgun!" like It's the best seat in the car and they're cool to have called it first? Yeah, that bugs me. Now, some Viking ships' seats are built in the same way as a normal car. So, there are seven seats in all, and all that junk, with of course, an optional back seat, which means that there's actually five seats. So, whenever some annoying freak pulls out the shotgun routine, don't forget to use this to your advantage.
Annoying Person: I call Shotgun!
You: I call Stungun!*
(If Stungun is already taken...)
You: I call Pistol!**
(If Stungun and Pistol are taken, and there is a back seat...)
You: I call Flamethrower!***
(If Stungun, Pistol, and Flamethrower are taken...)
You: I call Angry Cat Launcher!****
Either way, you are likely to throw everything in that annoying person's face EVERY day. Now, of course, there are two clauses you always need to remember.
Clause A: KNIFE is the best seat. Knife is the driver's seat, obviously, so if you can, call Knife a few hours before the trip. That way, you can still rub it into Mister Shotgun's face.
Clause B: Bazooka is any middle seat.
Now you know everything you need to know to halt that HORRIBLE PERSON who ALWAYS CALLS FREAKIN' SHOTGUN!
Hold on, Phil the Conceited is taking us on a river trip for a few hours in his new Ferrarrivertiblero. I'm sitting Shotgun!
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*Stungun, of course, is the seat directly behind Shotgun. This is actually good, because you can then annoy the annoying person back, since you're in such close proximity.
**Pistol is the seat behind Knife, which I'll describe shortly.
***Flamethrower is the seat behind Pistol in a ship with a back seat.
****Angry Cat Launcher is the seat behind Stungun on ships with back seats
Annoying Person: I call Shotgun!
You: I call Stungun!*
(If Stungun is already taken...)
You: I call Pistol!**
(If Stungun and Pistol are taken, and there is a back seat...)
You: I call Flamethrower!***
(If Stungun, Pistol, and Flamethrower are taken...)
You: I call Angry Cat Launcher!****
Either way, you are likely to throw everything in that annoying person's face EVERY day. Now, of course, there are two clauses you always need to remember.
Clause A: KNIFE is the best seat. Knife is the driver's seat, obviously, so if you can, call Knife a few hours before the trip. That way, you can still rub it into Mister Shotgun's face.
Clause B: Bazooka is any middle seat.
Now you know everything you need to know to halt that HORRIBLE PERSON who ALWAYS CALLS FREAKIN' SHOTGUN!
Hold on, Phil the Conceited is taking us on a river trip for a few hours in his new Ferrarrivertiblero. I'm sitting Shotgun!
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*Stungun, of course, is the seat directly behind Shotgun. This is actually good, because you can then annoy the annoying person back, since you're in such close proximity.
**Pistol is the seat behind Knife, which I'll describe shortly.
***Flamethrower is the seat behind Pistol in a ship with a back seat.
****Angry Cat Launcher is the seat behind Stungun on ships with back seats
Friday, June 19, 2009
Summer Files: Post-Atlantis
So, I won! I killed Atlantis!
Though, Thor came to me in a dream last night and explained that mere mortals can't kill Gods, we only just banished him for five minutes. I guess thats good.
The captains of the crews that the other commandos belonged to called Gregory and asked where their crewmates were. I had to explain that Phoenix sacrificed himself to get us out of Jail, Bulldog Rush got killed by Poseidon, Cursive, I accidentally killed, and Genvieve got killed by Thor because I'm annoying. At that point, everytime I told one of the captains that Thor thinks I'm annoying, I burst into tears and blubbered horribly. During my cry-fests, I distinctly heard the captain say, everytime, "Who're they?" Sadly, I couldn't remember which Viking got whcih commando name, so I left it at that.
See ya tomorrow!
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Though, Thor came to me in a dream last night and explained that mere mortals can't kill Gods, we only just banished him for five minutes. I guess thats good.
The captains of the crews that the other commandos belonged to called Gregory and asked where their crewmates were. I had to explain that Phoenix sacrificed himself to get us out of Jail, Bulldog Rush got killed by Poseidon, Cursive, I accidentally killed, and Genvieve got killed by Thor because I'm annoying. At that point, everytime I told one of the captains that Thor thinks I'm annoying, I burst into tears and blubbered horribly. During my cry-fests, I distinctly heard the captain say, everytime, "Who're they?" Sadly, I couldn't remember which Viking got whcih commando name, so I left it at that.
See ya tomorrow!
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Summer Files: Atlantis 4
After I finished writing Summer Files: Atlantis 3, Poseidon was furious.
"I can't believe you spent thirty minutes using the internet! That'll cost me fifty extra bucks this month!" He gasped.
"You have a horrible Internet, then," I said. "Have you tried using Afflack?"
"Isn't that an insurance company?" He asked.
"No, the insurance company is called Keebler," I said.
"Isn't Keebler those tree-elf cookie bakers?" He asked.
"No, that's called Verizon." I said.
"Isn't Verizon a cell phone company?" He asked.
"No, that's called McDonald's." I said.
"Isn't McDonald's that Fast Food place with the Clown as a Mascot?" he asked.
"A Clown? WHERE?" I shrieked, brandishing my Nun-Chaku wildly. Unfortunately, I bashed Cursive in the head, and he died. Hard.
"Technically, Ronald is a Mime," Genvieve began.
"No, Ronald is a wizard!" I shouted as Poseidon yelled, "HA! Your wielder of the Hammer of Thor is dead! Now your lives are forfeit!"
I knew what I had to do.
I ran toward the dead body of Cursive as Poseidon rose into the air, laughing manically.
He swooped down on me as I picked up the Hammer.
He swooped away as I raised it into the air.
He looked at me in confusion as I snapped it in half.
"NO!" I yelled. "Our lives are Parfait! Forfeit is a type of pastry!"
"Oh," he said. "I never knew."
POP!
He had disappeared.
A rumbling sound began to permeate inside the palace. Genvieve yelled, "OH NO! We killed the final boss, and now his death has triggered a chain of explosions that is causing the entire place to collapse around us!"
"Don't be silly," I said. "That's only in video games."
Suddenly, a huge lightening bolt zapped right onto Poseidon's broken throne. I knew who it was.
"Thor!" I yelled. "Tell Genvieve he's wrong, and that ridiculous statement he just said is false, and how you've enlightened me by typing up amazing, bolded things in my posts, things I don't need to know cause I already know, and everyone else does, like how I tried to explain to this European Model here in Summer Files: Atlantis 2!"
"Um," Thor said slowly. "No, Henry the Eighth is right, and I didn't type those things, Oma..."
"Aw darn!" I said. "I coulda sworn I was right! Wait, who's Henry?"
"Olaf, listen to me..." Thor began.
"Genvieve, do you know who this Henry dude is?" I asked. Genvieve was shaking in anger. He whispered, "Let our god speak..."
"Olaf, Oma..." Thor began.
"I know, right? Omar told me of how you blessed my blog with that bolded text!" I yelled. "Isn't he great?"
"OLAF!" Thor yelled.
"Whoa, I'm being yelled at by a god!" I yelled. "Never thought that that would happen!"
"ARGH!" Thor screamed, shooting a lightning bolt at Genvieve, killing him instantly.
"Yeah, I thought he was annoying, too." I said.
"OLAF LISTEN!" Thor yelled. "YOU'RE THE ANNOYING ONE HERE! I KILLED HIM ONLY BECAUSE I COULDN'T KILL YOU BECAUSE YOU'RE DESTINED TO DO SOMETHING GREAT SOON!"
I began to cry.
"Y-y-you think I-i-i-i'm Annoying?" I blubbered.
Thor looked around at the falling palace. "I don't think the Vikings can use this place for land. But, Poseidon lost his home, so that's a plus. Good work, Olaf."
"He thinks I'm annoying!" I screamed. Pointing his hammer at me, Thor muttered some words.
The next thing I knew, I was on the Bloodhound.
"Olaf!" I heard someone yell. Looking up, I saw through my tears Gregory the Hairy. "What happened at Atlantis? Why are you back here?"
"HE THINKS I'M ANNOYING!" I shrieked.
"Yes," Gregory said. "Yes, I do."
I dragged myself to the computer and typed up this post.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
"I can't believe you spent thirty minutes using the internet! That'll cost me fifty extra bucks this month!" He gasped.
"You have a horrible Internet, then," I said. "Have you tried using Afflack?"
"Isn't that an insurance company?" He asked.
"No, the insurance company is called Keebler," I said.
"Isn't Keebler those tree-elf cookie bakers?" He asked.
"No, that's called Verizon." I said.
"Isn't Verizon a cell phone company?" He asked.
"No, that's called McDonald's." I said.
"Isn't McDonald's that Fast Food place with the Clown as a Mascot?" he asked.
"A Clown? WHERE?" I shrieked, brandishing my Nun-Chaku wildly. Unfortunately, I bashed Cursive in the head, and he died. Hard.
"Technically, Ronald is a Mime," Genvieve began.
"No, Ronald is a wizard!" I shouted as Poseidon yelled, "HA! Your wielder of the Hammer of Thor is dead! Now your lives are forfeit!"
I knew what I had to do.
I ran toward the dead body of Cursive as Poseidon rose into the air, laughing manically.
He swooped down on me as I picked up the Hammer.
He swooped away as I raised it into the air.
He looked at me in confusion as I snapped it in half.
"NO!" I yelled. "Our lives are Parfait! Forfeit is a type of pastry!"
"Oh," he said. "I never knew."
POP!
He had disappeared.
A rumbling sound began to permeate inside the palace. Genvieve yelled, "OH NO! We killed the final boss, and now his death has triggered a chain of explosions that is causing the entire place to collapse around us!"
"Don't be silly," I said. "That's only in video games."
Suddenly, a huge lightening bolt zapped right onto Poseidon's broken throne. I knew who it was.
"Thor!" I yelled. "Tell Genvieve he's wrong, and that ridiculous statement he just said is false, and how you've enlightened me by typing up amazing, bolded things in my posts, things I don't need to know cause I already know, and everyone else does, like how I tried to explain to this European Model here in Summer Files: Atlantis 2!"
"Um," Thor said slowly. "No, Henry the Eighth is right, and I didn't type those things, Oma..."
"Aw darn!" I said. "I coulda sworn I was right! Wait, who's Henry?"
"Olaf, listen to me..." Thor began.
"Genvieve, do you know who this Henry dude is?" I asked. Genvieve was shaking in anger. He whispered, "Let our god speak..."
"Olaf, Oma..." Thor began.
"I know, right? Omar told me of how you blessed my blog with that bolded text!" I yelled. "Isn't he great?"
"OLAF!" Thor yelled.
"Whoa, I'm being yelled at by a god!" I yelled. "Never thought that that would happen!"
"ARGH!" Thor screamed, shooting a lightning bolt at Genvieve, killing him instantly.
"Yeah, I thought he was annoying, too." I said.
"OLAF LISTEN!" Thor yelled. "YOU'RE THE ANNOYING ONE HERE! I KILLED HIM ONLY BECAUSE I COULDN'T KILL YOU BECAUSE YOU'RE DESTINED TO DO SOMETHING GREAT SOON!"
I began to cry.
"Y-y-you think I-i-i-i'm Annoying?" I blubbered.
Thor looked around at the falling palace. "I don't think the Vikings can use this place for land. But, Poseidon lost his home, so that's a plus. Good work, Olaf."
"He thinks I'm annoying!" I screamed. Pointing his hammer at me, Thor muttered some words.
The next thing I knew, I was on the Bloodhound.
"Olaf!" I heard someone yell. Looking up, I saw through my tears Gregory the Hairy. "What happened at Atlantis? Why are you back here?"
"HE THINKS I'M ANNOYING!" I shrieked.
"Yes," Gregory said. "Yes, I do."
I dragged myself to the computer and typed up this post.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Summer Files: Atlantis 3
After Phoenix sacrificed himself to open up the door (he apparently did a Viking Fart, which usually blows the person up into tiny, tiny pieces. Phoenix, of course, no exception) Genvieve, Bulldog Rush, Cursive, and I went pelting helter-skelter through the city, begin chased by the Atlantean Royal Guard. We decided to head straight for the Atlantean Palace, where Poseidon rules with an Iron fist.
Poseidon and Thor used to go way back. They used to go over to each other's pantheons and play B-Ball, some video games, maybe play some Pretty Pretty Princess, they were the best of friends. But one day, Poseidon suggested that HIS trident could beat the Hammer of Thor. Thor was furious. I mean, come one, Poseidon doesn't even have the Spanish version of possession for his trident! And so, Poseidon and Thor became bitter enemies. Which is another reason why we're trying to take over Atlantis. Thor decreed it.
Anyway, we ran to the palace, into the palace, and Assaulted Poseidon. He, of course, is a god, so he only lost like, one hitpoint, before he killed off Bulldog Rush. After an extremely short moment of silence for our fallen friend... A VERY short one, since Poseidon was still coming after us, we decided to call upon the powers of the awesome Thor to help us. The next thing we knew, Cursive's Hammer was glowing yellow, and we knew: The power of the Hammer of Thor had imbued itself into the power of the Hammer of Nathan the Great AKA Cursive. With one mighty blow, the Hammer of Nathan the Great AKA Cursive imbued with the power of Thor destroyed Poseidon's trident.
"OH DANG!" Poseidon said. "My Trident!"
"Now we can destroy you in, like, two rounds tops!" Genvieve said.
At that point, all one million members* of the Atlantean Guard flew into the palace and surrounded us.
"Or, my Guard will destroy you in, like, half a round tops." Poseidon said smugly. Then his face blanched. "Unless you hit the Hammer of Thor on the Floor."
Of course, you know what that meant.
So here we are.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*Not an exaggeration. There are exactly one million members of the Atlantean Guard.
Poseidon and Thor used to go way back. They used to go over to each other's pantheons and play B-Ball, some video games, maybe play some Pretty Pretty Princess, they were the best of friends. But one day, Poseidon suggested that HIS trident could beat the Hammer of Thor. Thor was furious. I mean, come one, Poseidon doesn't even have the Spanish version of possession for his trident! And so, Poseidon and Thor became bitter enemies. Which is another reason why we're trying to take over Atlantis. Thor decreed it.
Anyway, we ran to the palace, into the palace, and Assaulted Poseidon. He, of course, is a god, so he only lost like, one hitpoint, before he killed off Bulldog Rush. After an extremely short moment of silence for our fallen friend... A VERY short one, since Poseidon was still coming after us, we decided to call upon the powers of the awesome Thor to help us. The next thing we knew, Cursive's Hammer was glowing yellow, and we knew: The power of the Hammer of Thor had imbued itself into the power of the Hammer of Nathan the Great AKA Cursive. With one mighty blow, the Hammer of Nathan the Great AKA Cursive imbued with the power of Thor destroyed Poseidon's trident.
"OH DANG!" Poseidon said. "My Trident!"
"Now we can destroy you in, like, two rounds tops!" Genvieve said.
At that point, all one million members* of the Atlantean Guard flew into the palace and surrounded us.
"Or, my Guard will destroy you in, like, half a round tops." Poseidon said smugly. Then his face blanched. "Unless you hit the Hammer of Thor on the Floor."
Of course, you know what that meant.
"Hammer Rap"
by Olaf the Bald AKA Skirt-Wearer
Hammer of Thor,
hit it on the floor,
this dude's a bore
Golfers say fore!
One Three is four,
I joined the Corps,
I stole girl your,
Lookit the gore!
Give me more,
kill a boar,
clogged are my pores,
Hear me roar!
As I wickedly freestyled, Cursive hit the Hammer of Thor on the Floor, which immediately killed every single Guard Member and dealt Poseidon 999 damage, which is, of course, the max. Poseidon, weakened beyond belief, gasped, "What do you want? I'll give you anything! ANYTHING!"
The Pie-Eaters assembled.
"We need to tell him to hand over Atlantis for all of the Vikings to use!" Cursive said.
"I agree!" Genvieve said.
I, of course, knew that what they were asking was a horrible idea, so before they could ruin EVERYTHING, I spoke up.
"We want some internet access!" I shouted.
So here we are.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*Not an exaggeration. There are exactly one million members of the Atlantean Guard.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Summer Files: Atlantis 2
After the Pie-Eaters and I crashed spectaculaly into the hull of Atlantis, we escaped into the main city. Stupid Genvieve was the one to crash the submarine, of course.
Hold on, Phoenix wants to me to come do some dishes.
This is Henry the Eighth, who Skirt-Wearer for SOME REASON thinks is better called some European Model name. Genviever. Spaw. Anyway, it was Skirt-Wearer who crashed the sub into the
I am absolutely SICKENED by Genvieve! You see that smallified text up there? He wrote that! He was pretending to be a god! Thor, of all people! Ugh! Anyway, I caught him, and soundly thrashed him. Twas awesome. It was easy, too, but what do you expect from aguy named after some European Model.
Anyway, after we got into the city, the hard part was disguising ourselves. We thought itd be cool to use our fishing rods that we brought and catch some of the atlanteans, who of course, look like fish. The plan was that after we caught five, we were going to fillet them and wear their skins over our bodies, but sadly, the Atlanteans claimed they were smarter than that, and threw us in jail for possession of Fishing rods, which is apparently a felony here.We've been stuck here jail all day. Luckily, they provide Internet access, so I'm able to blog. Phoenix is working on a plan to get us out.Hold on, he's enacting it...
Olafthebald (cuz I've gotta type and run, and don't have enough time to separate each letter and add five A's and I barely have enough time to hit the publish button and Bulldog Rush is pulling m
Hold on, Phoenix wants to me to come do some dishes.
This is Henry the Eighth, who Skirt-Wearer for SOME REASON thinks is better called some European Model name. Genviever. Spaw. Anyway, it was Skirt-Wearer who crashed the sub into the
I am absolutely SICKENED by Genvieve! You see that smallified text up there? He wrote that! He was pretending to be a god! Thor, of all people! Ugh! Anyway, I caught him, and soundly thrashed him. Twas awesome. It was easy, too, but what do you expect from aguy named after some European Model.
Anyway, after we got into the city, the hard part was disguising ourselves. We thought itd be cool to use our fishing rods that we brought and catch some of the atlanteans, who of course, look like fish. The plan was that after we caught five, we were going to fillet them and wear their skins over our bodies, but sadly, the Atlanteans claimed they were smarter than that, and threw us in jail for possession of Fishing rods, which is apparently a felony here.We've been stuck here jail all day. Luckily, they provide Internet access, so I'm able to blog. Phoenix is working on a plan to get us out.Hold on, he's enacting it...
Olafthebald (cuz I've gotta type and run, and don't have enough time to separate each letter and add five A's and I barely have enough time to hit the publish button and Bulldog Rush is pulling m
Monday, June 15, 2009
Summer Files: Atlantis
As you remember, this next week of the 14th through 19th, I'm infiltrating Atlantis for its spoils with a Team of Crack Commando Vikings, some of the best of the Vikings from all over the world. There's only going to be five of us, and we all are getting commando names.
How do Vikings get commando names? you might ask. Well, its simple.
1.) Everyone writes their name and puts it into a helmet.
2.) Everyone draws a name out of the helmet.
3.) You pick the name for that person.
Here is the team of Vikings:
Olaf the Bald (me) of the Bloodhound.
Frederick the Brave of the Pretty Flower.
Cory the Boastful of the Stormbreaker.
Henry the Eighth of the Europe.
Nathan the Great of the Kids Book.
When I drew my person's name, I decided, in an attempt to show a sense a Camaraderie, to give him a cool name. Here's what happened, in order:
Frederick: Drew 'Frederick'. Commando name given to him by Frederick: Bulldog Rush.
Cory: Drew 'Cory'. Commando name given by Cory: Phoenix.
Me: Drew 'Henry'. Commando name given by Me: Genvieve.
At this point, Henry the Eighth yelled, "WHAT THE HECK? Genvieve? What kind of Commando name is that?"
"I think Genvieve is a pretty name," I said.
"I'm going to SLAUGHTER you," He growled.
"Just draw a name!" Phoenix yelled.
Henry: Drew 'Olaf.' Commando name given by Henry: Hot Chick.
"Isn't that... oh, I dunno... a little Odd... to be calling me a hot chick, Genvieve?" I asked.
"You're right." Genvieve said.
Henry: Drew 'Olaf.' Commando name given by Henry: Skirt-Wearer
"Oh, that's just mean, Genvieve." I said.
"Whatever, Skirts," Genvieve said smugly.
Nathan: Drew 'Nathan'. Commando name given by Nathan: Firebert.
"Now, THAT'S a HORRIBLE Commando name," Genvieve and I said.
At that point, three armless dudes,* a guy who smelled of crap, a wrestleman, a square, a yellow dog, a broom, my old incompetant gym coach, a yellow marshmellow, an emo gray guy, and a conman DOINKED in out of nowhere and proceeded to pound on us until we agreed to not steal their joke. Sastified, they left, and Firebert I MEAN Nathan tried again.
Nathan: Drew 'Nathan'. Commando name given by Nathan: Cursive.
With everyone less than satisfied (Skirt-Wearer? What the heck?) We set off. This was all yesterday. We've only just now arrived via submarine. Its time for me to step off and begin our attack.
Oh, and I also drew the short straw, which meant I got to pick our Team Name and our Team cheer! Here's how it goes:
Me: Shirt-Wearer!
Phoenix: Phoenix!
Bulldog Rush: Bulldog Rush!
Genvieve: genvieve...
Cursive: Cursive!
All: Who is we? PIE EATERS!
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*One with a star on his shirt, one wearing a crown, and one with a misspelled word on his shirt.
How do Vikings get commando names? you might ask. Well, its simple.
1.) Everyone writes their name and puts it into a helmet.
2.) Everyone draws a name out of the helmet.
3.) You pick the name for that person.
Here is the team of Vikings:
Olaf the Bald (me) of the Bloodhound.
Frederick the Brave of the Pretty Flower.
Cory the Boastful of the Stormbreaker.
Henry the Eighth of the Europe.
Nathan the Great of the Kids Book.
When I drew my person's name, I decided, in an attempt to show a sense a Camaraderie, to give him a cool name. Here's what happened, in order:
Frederick: Drew 'Frederick'. Commando name given to him by Frederick: Bulldog Rush.
Cory: Drew 'Cory'. Commando name given by Cory: Phoenix.
Me: Drew 'Henry'. Commando name given by Me: Genvieve.
At this point, Henry the Eighth yelled, "WHAT THE HECK? Genvieve? What kind of Commando name is that?"
"I think Genvieve is a pretty name," I said.
"I'm going to SLAUGHTER you," He growled.
"Just draw a name!" Phoenix yelled.
Henry: Drew 'Olaf.' Commando name given by Henry: Hot Chick.
"Isn't that... oh, I dunno... a little Odd... to be calling me a hot chick, Genvieve?" I asked.
"You're right." Genvieve said.
Henry: Drew 'Olaf.' Commando name given by Henry: Skirt-Wearer
"Oh, that's just mean, Genvieve." I said.
"Whatever, Skirts," Genvieve said smugly.
Nathan: Drew 'Nathan'. Commando name given by Nathan: Firebert.
"Now, THAT'S a HORRIBLE Commando name," Genvieve and I said.
At that point, three armless dudes,* a guy who smelled of crap, a wrestleman, a square, a yellow dog, a broom, my old incompetant gym coach, a yellow marshmellow, an emo gray guy, and a conman DOINKED in out of nowhere and proceeded to pound on us until we agreed to not steal their joke. Sastified, they left, and Firebert I MEAN Nathan tried again.
Nathan: Drew 'Nathan'. Commando name given by Nathan: Cursive.
With everyone less than satisfied (Skirt-Wearer? What the heck?) We set off. This was all yesterday. We've only just now arrived via submarine. Its time for me to step off and begin our attack.
Oh, and I also drew the short straw, which meant I got to pick our Team Name and our Team cheer! Here's how it goes:
Me: Shirt-Wearer!
Phoenix: Phoenix!
Bulldog Rush: Bulldog Rush!
Genvieve: genvieve...
Cursive: Cursive!
All: Who is we? PIE EATERS!
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*One with a star on his shirt, one wearing a crown, and one with a misspelled word on his shirt.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Coon Ka-Knockers
Depending on the place, there's always some sort of creature-pest that bugs the living daylights out of you. A favorite for Vikings in the north are Coons, the Ninjas of the Bushtails. Why do we call little Raccoons that? Because Raccoons, like ninjas, are wimps, and hide their true identities from the world and use fake names cuz they is babies.* Like, for example, THIS THING tells you exactly how it is for Ninjas and their obsession to hide their identities.
Anyway, even though we vikings have never been able to figure out how to get a Raccoon's mask off, and since we think that Coons are in Ninjas' employ, We use Coon Ka-Knockers, since Raccoons are so CUUUTE! that we don't want to kill them.
Ahem.
Awkward.
Now, your basic Coon Ka-Knocker is simple: Its some sort of blunt object that you can whack a coon with and not have to worry about it bleeding and dying and losing most of its cuteness while it cauterwauls and screams and excretes everywhere. My favorite Coon Ka-Knocker I ever had was a branch I carved myself into a half-J shape. During the Raccoon attack of 92', that thing Ka-Knocked so many Raccoons that I even named it 'Larry', like all the cool people name their swords in movies. It was only then, after I was polishing it, that Soren the Hard-of-Hearing-Scribe pointed out that I was rubbing me hands all over a dude. Thus, Larry became known as Lucy.
Sadly, a few years ago, Phil the Conceited thought it'd be funny to whack my precious Lucy against a tree OVER AND OVER AND OVER again. You can guess what happened.
Lucy had a beautiful funeral.
Now, I've learned not to get attached to any single Coon Ka-Knocker, since I know that if you love them, they will SHATTER INTO A MILLION PIECES! But we Vikings aren't the only onces who use some sort of Ka-something. Look at what the other classes use!
Bear Ka-Killer
Little Kid Ka-Bonker
Nanobot Ka-Zapper
NO HONOR Ka-Yeller
Bacteria Ka-Cleaner
Leak Ka-Filler
Flaming Ka-Waterer
Letter Ka-Opener
Post a comment**, and if you can successfully place each of the nine classes with its 'KA', then I'll give you a Million***!
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*No, I am not referencing YOU, The Man. You're coo wit mwah.
** There is no guarantee your reward will be given within the next week. I may be unable to post comments within the next week, since I'll be in Atlantis. For more info, check out my 'Summer' post from earlier on this month.
*** Punches to the face
Anyway, even though we vikings have never been able to figure out how to get a Raccoon's mask off, and since we think that Coons are in Ninjas' employ, We use Coon Ka-Knockers, since Raccoons are so CUUUTE! that we don't want to kill them.
Ahem.
Awkward.
Now, your basic Coon Ka-Knocker is simple: Its some sort of blunt object that you can whack a coon with and not have to worry about it bleeding and dying and losing most of its cuteness while it cauterwauls and screams and excretes everywhere. My favorite Coon Ka-Knocker I ever had was a branch I carved myself into a half-J shape. During the Raccoon attack of 92', that thing Ka-Knocked so many Raccoons that I even named it 'Larry', like all the cool people name their swords in movies. It was only then, after I was polishing it, that Soren the Hard-of-Hearing-Scribe pointed out that I was rubbing me hands all over a dude. Thus, Larry became known as Lucy.
Sadly, a few years ago, Phil the Conceited thought it'd be funny to whack my precious Lucy against a tree OVER AND OVER AND OVER again. You can guess what happened.
Lucy had a beautiful funeral.
Now, I've learned not to get attached to any single Coon Ka-Knocker, since I know that if you love them, they will SHATTER INTO A MILLION PIECES! But we Vikings aren't the only onces who use some sort of Ka-something. Look at what the other classes use!
Bear Ka-Killer
Little Kid Ka-Bonker
Nanobot Ka-Zapper
NO HONOR Ka-Yeller
Bacteria Ka-Cleaner
Leak Ka-Filler
Flaming Ka-Waterer
Letter Ka-Opener
Post a comment**, and if you can successfully place each of the nine classes with its 'KA', then I'll give you a Million***!
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*No, I am not referencing YOU, The Man. You're coo wit mwah.
** There is no guarantee your reward will be given within the next week. I may be unable to post comments within the next week, since I'll be in Atlantis. For more info, check out my 'Summer' post from earlier on this month.
*** Punches to the face
Saturday, June 13, 2009
How to Kill a Mockingbird: By Lee the Author
No, I am not being paid to advertise this book, I just honestly really like it and think the book should be made known to the public.
Though I usually don't read, I LOVED this book. I mean, seriously? Who can resist something that goes into minute details on Two Thousand and Six different ways to kill a Mockingbird. Its AWESOME! They've got explosions, stabbings, poisonings, siccings, and much, much more. There's even diagrams on every other page. It's brilliant!
My favorite way I read to kill a mockingbird is to give it Pop Rocks and Soda. Now, I know what you're thinking: That doesn't actually work. But listen! Give it the above ingrediants, then show it a website that devotes its entire time to proving that that legend is not legend, but fact. The Mockingbird, believing that blatant lie, will keel over and die. Not from the explosion, but from mental process.
Another good way is to invite it to play a game of twister. Then, while you have left hand and foot on red and right hand and foot on green, 'Lose.' Mockingbird has no chance, no matter HOW skinny you are. I'm talking to YOU, Marilyn Monroe.
Another good one is this: Put a tracking device on its leg, and when its heart stops beating, you realize: You've killed it with NATURAL DEATH!
OOOOOOO!
I gotta go. Some guy named Lee is coming over to pay me a large sum of money for advertising for his boo... AHEM, I mean, some guy named... CHARLES is coming over to give me... PIZZA for breakdancing in his... CLUB last night. Yeah.
On another unrelated note, Imma gonna buy me some STEEL DRUMS after I meet up with Lee... I mean Charles.
Yeah.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Though I usually don't read, I LOVED this book. I mean, seriously? Who can resist something that goes into minute details on Two Thousand and Six different ways to kill a Mockingbird. Its AWESOME! They've got explosions, stabbings, poisonings, siccings, and much, much more. There's even diagrams on every other page. It's brilliant!
My favorite way I read to kill a mockingbird is to give it Pop Rocks and Soda. Now, I know what you're thinking: That doesn't actually work. But listen! Give it the above ingrediants, then show it a website that devotes its entire time to proving that that legend is not legend, but fact. The Mockingbird, believing that blatant lie, will keel over and die. Not from the explosion, but from mental process.
Another good way is to invite it to play a game of twister. Then, while you have left hand and foot on red and right hand and foot on green, 'Lose.' Mockingbird has no chance, no matter HOW skinny you are. I'm talking to YOU, Marilyn Monroe.
Another good one is this: Put a tracking device on its leg, and when its heart stops beating, you realize: You've killed it with NATURAL DEATH!
OOOOOOO!
I gotta go. Some guy named Lee is coming over to pay me a large sum of money for advertising for his boo... AHEM, I mean, some guy named... CHARLES is coming over to give me... PIZZA for breakdancing in his... CLUB last night. Yeah.
On another unrelated note, Imma gonna buy me some STEEL DRUMS after I meet up with Lee... I mean Charles.
Yeah.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Friday, June 12, 2009
Bold Text
I bet you're wondering why there is a Running Gag where I ignore Bolded or italized text that appears mysteriously. Well, here's my explanation:
Omar the Bold, my Homedog, explained to me sometime before I started this blog that Thor loves all blogs, and treats them as his children. But each blogger must follow Thor's rule if they are to become a sweet Viking blogger.
The single rule is this: If text you don't remembering typing appears, ignore it, as it is something Thor wants EVERYONE to know except for you, because you already know it, and if you hear what you already know ONE MORE TIME, you're gonna EXPLODE! LITERALLY!
So ever since then, I've ignored every single typed word that I didn't remember typing, cause Thor has spoken.
Hold on, I gotta go polish up my Apple Pie before Heinz the Fat eats it.
Ha ha ha! Now you know how I, Omar the Bold, has convinced Olaf to stop reading whatever I say! One day, I may have taken over his blog completely, since my hatred for him rivals the heat of a million suns, which is STRONGER THAN HIS OWN HATRED FOR PENGUINS! AH HA! HA HA! HA!
K, i'm back. Wow, whadaya know! More unrecognizable, non-typed-out-by me words! In the same post I was talking about it in! I guess this is a good place to stop.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Omar the Bold, my Homedog, explained to me sometime before I started this blog that Thor loves all blogs, and treats them as his children. But each blogger must follow Thor's rule if they are to become a sweet Viking blogger.
The single rule is this: If text you don't remembering typing appears, ignore it, as it is something Thor wants EVERYONE to know except for you, because you already know it, and if you hear what you already know ONE MORE TIME, you're gonna EXPLODE! LITERALLY!
So ever since then, I've ignored every single typed word that I didn't remember typing, cause Thor has spoken.
Hold on, I gotta go polish up my Apple Pie before Heinz the Fat eats it.
Ha ha ha! Now you know how I, Omar the Bold, has convinced Olaf to stop reading whatever I say! One day, I may have taken over his blog completely, since my hatred for him rivals the heat of a million suns, which is STRONGER THAN HIS OWN HATRED FOR PENGUINS! AH HA! HA HA! HA!
K, i'm back. Wow, whadaya know! More unrecognizable, non-typed-out-by me words! In the same post I was talking about it in! I guess this is a good place to stop.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Brootar
Even though I am a percussionist, I think one of my favorite instruments is the Brootar. The Brootar is like an air guitar, but instead of it being air, I'm strummin' a broom. Though it lacks any specific Instrumental talent to play it, It DOES allow me to excercise my beautiful singing voice.
Hold on, I need to go sweep the floor, on Chieftain Gregory the Hairy's command.
This is Omar the Bold. Olaf is the worst singer ever. Thank you.
Magical bolded text! I better not read it. Anyway, the funnest thing to do with a Brootar is to ask one person what tune, and another what topic. My favorite one is this:
Tune: All star by Smash Mouth.
Topic: Penguins.
I really hate all penguins
I wish they would all die now
If I had a nuke I would use it
On Antarctica cuz penguins are dumb,
and I hate them and when
I see one, I start to kill it.
Well, some say I have problems
Guess I can't blame 'em
When my ship heads off to the zoo,
We get kicked out cuza penguin goo,
guts and blood, of course, goo is,
Though I'm sure you've already guessed that.
If I didn't hate penguins I'd die.
If I didn't hate penguins I'd cry.
Hey now, I hate penguins,
You hate Penguins?
Heck, YES!
Hey now, I kill penguins,
You kill Penguins,
Deep breath
And all the glitters is blood
coming from the penguins disembodied heads.
ENd sonG.
So, it continues on like that. Its pretty sweet, and some of my lyrics get some laughs from my other Viking bros. For example, when I sung about how a Sorcerer burnt his eyebrows off to the tune of Mary had a Little Lamb, the bros wouldn't stop laughing for days. Here is the song, in uncut glory:
Tune: Mary had a Little Lamb
Topic: Sorcery
Smarmy had a little spell,
little spell,
little spell,
Smarmy had a little spell,
He wanted to try it.
Smarmy set off his own spell,
his own spell,
his own spell,
Smarmy set off his own spell,
Now he has no eyebrows.
Sorcerors aren't a populare Minor CLass, as you can imagine.
Olaf the BAAAALD!
Hold on, I need to go sweep the floor, on Chieftain Gregory the Hairy's command.
This is Omar the Bold. Olaf is the worst singer ever. Thank you.
Magical bolded text! I better not read it. Anyway, the funnest thing to do with a Brootar is to ask one person what tune, and another what topic. My favorite one is this:
Tune: All star by Smash Mouth.
Topic: Penguins.
I really hate all penguins
I wish they would all die now
If I had a nuke I would use it
On Antarctica cuz penguins are dumb,
and I hate them and when
I see one, I start to kill it.
Well, some say I have problems
Guess I can't blame 'em
When my ship heads off to the zoo,
We get kicked out cuza penguin goo,
guts and blood, of course, goo is,
Though I'm sure you've already guessed that.
If I didn't hate penguins I'd die.
If I didn't hate penguins I'd cry.
Hey now, I hate penguins,
You hate Penguins?
Heck, YES!
Hey now, I kill penguins,
You kill Penguins,
Deep breath
And all the glitters is blood
coming from the penguins disembodied heads.
ENd sonG.
So, it continues on like that. Its pretty sweet, and some of my lyrics get some laughs from my other Viking bros. For example, when I sung about how a Sorcerer burnt his eyebrows off to the tune of Mary had a Little Lamb, the bros wouldn't stop laughing for days. Here is the song, in uncut glory:
Tune: Mary had a Little Lamb
Topic: Sorcery
Smarmy had a little spell,
little spell,
little spell,
Smarmy had a little spell,
He wanted to try it.
Smarmy set off his own spell,
his own spell,
his own spell,
Smarmy set off his own spell,
Now he has no eyebrows.
Sorcerors aren't a populare Minor CLass, as you can imagine.
Olaf the BAAAALD!
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Canon
You know, everything I write or comment on in this blog is considered Canon to my world... that totally exists. YOU FANS ARE ALL PART OF MY UNIVERSAL CANON AS WANNA-BES, ALMOSTS, AND SOMEWHAT CLASSES! ROCK, ROCK ON!
So, what does that mean? It means that somewhere, somehow, you are actually talking to a Viking trying to conceal his and every other class member's existance. Which means that I'm here to give a play-by-play of what my life is like on an internet chatroom, and since you humans are so slow, that's exactly what it feels like bloggin every day. Heck, I just only started answering to some of the things you guys have written! But, IN order to save space, I'm going to generalize everything that is commented on. Here is what my life on being on the Olaf the Bald chatroom.
Login: Olaf the Bald
Password: irockrockrockrockrockrockrockon!
Entering Viking Rants: By Olaf the Bald Comment poster
Me: Complaint about lack of readers, excitement bout sending some sap to advertise.
Slider the Slighted: Sucks up to me, says something about CVU.
Me: Ok, I'll talk bout CVU.
Charles the Mysterious: Poser comment bout Dark Elves.
Me: I make fun of Charles, then take it back to not lose a fan.
Me: I make fun again then take it back again.
Me: Sad reminder to myself I have no readers.
Charles the Mysterious: Dumb comment on what HE thinks the nine classes should be.
I once was on fire!: Some suck-upish 'tude toward Postal Workers, like he's some sort of Postal Worker Public-Interest Group or something.
Me: A Thor did it.
Czarevich: Nope, don't wanna talk to you.
The Rose: Blah blah blah, Penguins are cool.
Me: INSULT INSULT INSULT, you STUPID HEAD.
I was once on fire!: He supports me, calls the Rose an uneducated dweeb.
The Rage: Getting X-rated here...
Me: Warn the people of the oncoming invasion of Penguins.
Me: Remind them that I did, indeed, warn them.
Charles the Mysterious: Some dumb Zelda reference when talkin' bout Samurai.
Me: "Gee, how dumb you are!"
I was once on fire!: Girls like Charles, sings Ghostbusters theme song.
Me: VIking logic is the BEST!
I was once on fire!: I didn't say Ghostbusters, Captain K did!
Me: I admit I play Zelda while admitting I don't play Zelda while admitting I use wikipedia.
I was once on fire!: Blah, blah blah.
Me: I'm depressed.
The Rose: Ha ha, you're depressed, you non-continuity freak.
Me: I hate you, The Rose.
I was once on fire!: I like Phineas and Ferb!
I was once on fire!: I'm so cool!
I was once on fire!: Why come vikings don't use money?
The Rose: I like Haikus! I like them more than life! I really do! Ha ha ha!
The Rose: Want me to make a myspace for your blog?
Me: NO, no NO!
Cougarman: You should rant about some lame topic no one wants to rant about.
I was once on fire!: Boo-hoo, cry cry.
krkrkr: You should watch Deadliest Warriors!
I was once on fire!: That show is stupid! They killed the Viking!
Me: Sounds cool, except the Viking died!
I was once on fire!: I have a lame comment no-one cares about!
I was once on fire!: Are you in the Weapon X program?
Me: Maybe. I am Rather Dashing like Wolverine, aren't I?
Cougarman: Are Vikings technologicolly advanced?
I was once on fire!: I hate your lack of continuity!
Me: I HATE YOU!
I was once on fire!: RObots are hot in the sun.
Me: That's a lie by the government.
I was once on fire!: Omar the Bold is cool!
I was once on fire!: Unless he doesn't want to be.
Me: I know, right? Here's an advertisement for one of my favorite webcomics!
Me: I made something up!
I was once on fire!: Made what up?
I was once on fire!: How do you get mail?
The Rose: How old are you, exactly?
I was once on fire!: PWN!
I was once on fire!: Nev mind, its not.
I was once on fire!: I don't like Postal Workers, I like Environmentalists!
I was once on fire!: I hate your artwork!
I was once on fire!: You should read my overly-long explanation why Environmentalists are AWESOME!
I was once on fire!: Environmentalists don't die!
I was once on fire!: Fine then, everyone just stop talking.
I was once on fire!: So, did environmentalists help the Laotogo?
Me: They are now!
I was once on fire!: I hope you get eaten by a croc-like creature.
Charles the Mysterious: Arnold the Crafty is a crafty beast. He could help you.
Me: You both are stupid!
I was once on fire!: Not I!
I was once on fire!: You should make a dugout canoe.
Charles the Mysterious: You're a traitor to your Minor Class!
I was once on fire!: No I'm not!
The Man: You just powned Charles!
Me: Charles and Firey! You is dumb! The Man! Who is you?
The Man: Not telling! Check out my website!
I was once on fire!: Your website is the US Government's website? Are Obama?
Me: I'm gonna call you Pablo the Man!
The Man: I'll see you in Bard Camp, Olaf!
Me: WHO IS YOU?
I was once on fire!: Awkward...
Me: I know, right?
I was once on fire!: I like to PARTY!
Thor: I'm really The Man! I'm pretending to be a god! Watch lightning bolts strike me!
I was once on fire!: I'm a more loyal fan than you! Let's fight!
The Man: Ok!
The Man: You hippie!
I was once on fire!: I hate you! You die!
I was once on fire!: You communist!
Me: I'm loving this conversation!
The Man: Come one, let's fight with generic insults!
Me: I need an intervention.
The Man: Cheat Vikiandos, ROCK, ROCK ON!
Me: That's an insult! Let's fight!
I was once on fire!: I smell a fight!
The Man: Twasn't an insult.
Charles the Mysterious: I can trace your IP and figure out who you are, The Man.
Me: Eerie reference to tomorrow!
I was once on fire!: IP searching won't work.
I was once on fire!: You fail.
The Man: I agree with Firey for once, but he's still a hippie, Charles stinks, I have an epic argument here to rival the best argument in the world, Olaf think I'm amazing.
The Man: Once again, Charles stinks.
I was once on fire!: You're a hypocrite!
I was once on fire!: AN argument, but not as good as The Man's.
I was once on fire!: You're too slow!
Arnold the Skilled: I think there should be a poll on what we should name the poll.
Me: Reasons why not.
Olafthebald Logoff.
There, now you know what my day was like! Just chatting in a chat room, but to you, it was like, three months of checking comments and posts everyday. See how awesome being a Viking is?
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
So, what does that mean? It means that somewhere, somehow, you are actually talking to a Viking trying to conceal his and every other class member's existance. Which means that I'm here to give a play-by-play of what my life is like on an internet chatroom, and since you humans are so slow, that's exactly what it feels like bloggin every day. Heck, I just only started answering to some of the things you guys have written! But, IN order to save space, I'm going to generalize everything that is commented on. Here is what my life on being on the Olaf the Bald chatroom.
Login: Olaf the Bald
Password: irockrockrockrockrockrockrockon!
Entering Viking Rants: By Olaf the Bald Comment poster
Me: Complaint about lack of readers, excitement bout sending some sap to advertise.
Slider the Slighted: Sucks up to me, says something about CVU.
Me: Ok, I'll talk bout CVU.
Charles the Mysterious: Poser comment bout Dark Elves.
Me: I make fun of Charles, then take it back to not lose a fan.
Me: I make fun again then take it back again.
Me: Sad reminder to myself I have no readers.
Charles the Mysterious: Dumb comment on what HE thinks the nine classes should be.
I once was on fire!: Some suck-upish 'tude toward Postal Workers, like he's some sort of Postal Worker Public-Interest Group or something.
Me: A Thor did it.
Czarevich: Nope, don't wanna talk to you.
The Rose: Blah blah blah, Penguins are cool.
Me: INSULT INSULT INSULT, you STUPID HEAD.
I was once on fire!: He supports me, calls the Rose an uneducated dweeb.
The Rage: Getting X-rated here...
Me: Warn the people of the oncoming invasion of Penguins.
Me: Remind them that I did, indeed, warn them.
Charles the Mysterious: Some dumb Zelda reference when talkin' bout Samurai.
Me: "Gee, how dumb you are!"
I was once on fire!: Girls like Charles, sings Ghostbusters theme song.
Me: VIking logic is the BEST!
I was once on fire!: I didn't say Ghostbusters, Captain K did!
Me: I admit I play Zelda while admitting I don't play Zelda while admitting I use wikipedia.
I was once on fire!: Blah, blah blah.
Me: I'm depressed.
The Rose: Ha ha, you're depressed, you non-continuity freak.
Me: I hate you, The Rose.
I was once on fire!: I like Phineas and Ferb!
I was once on fire!: I'm so cool!
I was once on fire!: Why come vikings don't use money?
The Rose: I like Haikus! I like them more than life! I really do! Ha ha ha!
The Rose: Want me to make a myspace for your blog?
Me: NO, no NO!
Cougarman: You should rant about some lame topic no one wants to rant about.
I was once on fire!: Boo-hoo, cry cry.
krkrkr: You should watch Deadliest Warriors!
I was once on fire!: That show is stupid! They killed the Viking!
Me: Sounds cool, except the Viking died!
I was once on fire!: I have a lame comment no-one cares about!
I was once on fire!: Are you in the Weapon X program?
Me: Maybe. I am Rather Dashing like Wolverine, aren't I?
Cougarman: Are Vikings technologicolly advanced?
I was once on fire!: I hate your lack of continuity!
Me: I HATE YOU!
I was once on fire!: RObots are hot in the sun.
Me: That's a lie by the government.
I was once on fire!: Omar the Bold is cool!
I was once on fire!: Unless he doesn't want to be.
Me: I know, right? Here's an advertisement for one of my favorite webcomics!
Me: I made something up!
I was once on fire!: Made what up?
I was once on fire!: How do you get mail?
The Rose: How old are you, exactly?
I was once on fire!: PWN!
I was once on fire!: Nev mind, its not.
I was once on fire!: I don't like Postal Workers, I like Environmentalists!
I was once on fire!: I hate your artwork!
I was once on fire!: You should read my overly-long explanation why Environmentalists are AWESOME!
I was once on fire!: Environmentalists don't die!
I was once on fire!: Fine then, everyone just stop talking.
I was once on fire!: So, did environmentalists help the Laotogo?
Me: They are now!
I was once on fire!: I hope you get eaten by a croc-like creature.
Charles the Mysterious: Arnold the Crafty is a crafty beast. He could help you.
Me: You both are stupid!
I was once on fire!: Not I!
I was once on fire!: You should make a dugout canoe.
Charles the Mysterious: You're a traitor to your Minor Class!
I was once on fire!: No I'm not!
The Man: You just powned Charles!
Me: Charles and Firey! You is dumb! The Man! Who is you?
The Man: Not telling! Check out my website!
I was once on fire!: Your website is the US Government's website? Are Obama?
Me: I'm gonna call you Pablo the Man!
The Man: I'll see you in Bard Camp, Olaf!
Me: WHO IS YOU?
I was once on fire!: Awkward...
Me: I know, right?
I was once on fire!: I like to PARTY!
Thor: I'm really The Man! I'm pretending to be a god! Watch lightning bolts strike me!
I was once on fire!: I'm a more loyal fan than you! Let's fight!
The Man: Ok!
The Man: You hippie!
I was once on fire!: I hate you! You die!
I was once on fire!: You communist!
Me: I'm loving this conversation!
The Man: Come one, let's fight with generic insults!
Me: I need an intervention.
The Man: Cheat Vikiandos, ROCK, ROCK ON!
Me: That's an insult! Let's fight!
I was once on fire!: I smell a fight!
The Man: Twasn't an insult.
Charles the Mysterious: I can trace your IP and figure out who you are, The Man.
Me: Eerie reference to tomorrow!
I was once on fire!: IP searching won't work.
I was once on fire!: You fail.
The Man: I agree with Firey for once, but he's still a hippie, Charles stinks, I have an epic argument here to rival the best argument in the world, Olaf think I'm amazing.
The Man: Once again, Charles stinks.
I was once on fire!: You're a hypocrite!
I was once on fire!: AN argument, but not as good as The Man's.
I was once on fire!: You're too slow!
Arnold the Skilled: I think there should be a poll on what we should name the poll.
Me: Reasons why not.
Olafthebald Logoff.
There, now you know what my day was like! Just chatting in a chat room, but to you, it was like, three months of checking comments and posts everyday. See how awesome being a Viking is?
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Continuity Errors
Hey, if you were wondering about the wierd, fifteen-sprocketed post that appeared, its gone now. Just experimenting with the potential of Blogger.com
I bet you all are wondering: 'What's with the Continuity Errors in this Blog?' For example, this post vs. this post. What's with that, mate? Quite simply, I didn't lie to you. Something happened to make me seem to couble on myself. And I'll tell you what happened.
THOR HAPPENED!
Olaf the BAAAAALD!*
*Would have been longer, but there were technical issues, as you see in Paragraph 1, and by the time I was through wading through that, I was pooped ... but not out of a Laotogo, of course.
I bet you all are wondering: 'What's with the Continuity Errors in this Blog?' For example, this post vs. this post. What's with that, mate? Quite simply, I didn't lie to you. Something happened to make me seem to couble on myself. And I'll tell you what happened.
THOR HAPPENED!
Olaf the BAAAAALD!*
*Would have been longer, but there were technical issues, as you see in Paragraph 1, and by the time I was through wading through that, I was pooped ... but not out of a Laotogo, of course.
Monday, June 8, 2009
I'm doing really well this month, SUCKERS!
What on earth does the title of this post even mean? Well, I'll tell you.
For the last since I've started this blog, my post names have been way to long. Like, what you know as 'Post Number 2' was originally called 'K, I'm back, and continuing where I left off at.' What the hey! Too long of a title.
My new blog's revolution (No, I didn't have an OLD blog, its just a play on words for 'New Years Resolution', you stupid people) is to make titles less than two lines on the archive, situated conviently on your <. So, intstead of being super long titles to posts, I either keep the name to one word, two words, or three very small words. Once I get an entire month to be in that format, then I'll pretty sure I'll stick to that habit.
I mean, look at this month's archive so far! Isn't it beautiful? No two-line post names. Ah, bliss.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
For the last since I've started this blog, my post names have been way to long. Like, what you know as 'Post Number 2' was originally called 'K, I'm back, and continuing where I left off at.' What the hey! Too long of a title.
My new blog's revolution (No, I didn't have an OLD blog, its just a play on words for 'New Years Resolution', you stupid people) is to make titles less than two lines on the archive, situated conviently on your <. So, intstead of being super long titles to posts, I either keep the name to one word, two words, or three very small words. Once I get an entire month to be in that format, then I'll pretty sure I'll stick to that habit.
I mean, look at this month's archive so far! Isn't it beautiful? No two-line post names. Ah, bliss.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Posse
Posses are the key to civilization. It's true. Think about it: Everybody has a Posse, whether you're an outcast or the President, whether its one person or thirty. Even the people who claim they 'Don't Have Friends', have their Team Fortress 2 clan to worry about.
Though most people can thrive without being surrounded by their posse at all times, their are the others who looked negatively wilted when not surrounded by their Posse. You know the type. They look like half-people on their own. True, all people need a posse pick-me-up once in a while, but some people will DIE if not with their posse on their own.
Like I mentioned a coupla posts ago, George the Yellow had, at one time, gotten separated from the rest of the crew of the Bloodhound, and also the coolest posse on the Bloodhound, which is the posse I'm in, naturally. Mine and George's posse also consists of Erik the Noisy, Phil the Conceited, Soren the Hard-of-Hearing-Scribe, and my doge*, Omar the Bold.
Hold on, Chieftain Gregory the Hairy wants me to go clean out the refrigerator.
Olaf the Bald is not my 'DOGE', or whatever kind of misspelling crack that is. I think he means dog. Anyway, just wanted to make tha clear. Omar the Bold, out!
Keeping up the running gag of not figuring out why text I didn't type randomly appears below what I wrote and ignoring it in fear of the blogging gods like Thor, I continue. Anyway, with George not being with his cool posse for three weeks turned him into a shell. He was not prepared for the lack of Posse he experienced, and as such, said nothing but "P-p-p-p-pickles!" for nine weeks after we picked him back up. George always was the most needy out of all of us, though.
SO, to sum everything all up, here's a list of what classifies as a Posse:
1.) Any number of people from two to infinity who do any and all things in any and all forms together.
2.) The group of people you need to hang with at least once every three months, depending on the person. Three Months is the Maximum, five minutes the minimum.
3.) It doesn't even have to be a group of friends. Your posse could be a group of people who all hate each other and try in creative ways to kill each other, and at the end of each month, come together to a roundish table and discuss new ways to kill each other. Its that loose.
And.... that's all I've got fo' today.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*Intentional Misspelling.
Though most people can thrive without being surrounded by their posse at all times, their are the others who looked negatively wilted when not surrounded by their Posse. You know the type. They look like half-people on their own. True, all people need a posse pick-me-up once in a while, but some people will DIE if not with their posse on their own.
Like I mentioned a coupla posts ago, George the Yellow had, at one time, gotten separated from the rest of the crew of the Bloodhound, and also the coolest posse on the Bloodhound, which is the posse I'm in, naturally. Mine and George's posse also consists of Erik the Noisy, Phil the Conceited, Soren the Hard-of-Hearing-Scribe, and my doge*, Omar the Bold.
Hold on, Chieftain Gregory the Hairy wants me to go clean out the refrigerator.
Olaf the Bald is not my 'DOGE', or whatever kind of misspelling crack that is. I think he means dog. Anyway, just wanted to make tha clear. Omar the Bold, out!
Keeping up the running gag of not figuring out why text I didn't type randomly appears below what I wrote and ignoring it in fear of the blogging gods like Thor, I continue. Anyway, with George not being with his cool posse for three weeks turned him into a shell. He was not prepared for the lack of Posse he experienced, and as such, said nothing but "P-p-p-p-pickles!" for nine weeks after we picked him back up. George always was the most needy out of all of us, though.
SO, to sum everything all up, here's a list of what classifies as a Posse:
1.) Any number of people from two to infinity who do any and all things in any and all forms together.
2.) The group of people you need to hang with at least once every three months, depending on the person. Three Months is the Maximum, five minutes the minimum.
3.) It doesn't even have to be a group of friends. Your posse could be a group of people who all hate each other and try in creative ways to kill each other, and at the end of each month, come together to a roundish table and discuss new ways to kill each other. Its that loose.
And.... that's all I've got fo' today.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*Intentional Misspelling.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
WHOOO!
WHOOO YEAH! Last night, I went to a party, where I danced the night away, and I didn't get drunk on purpose, picked up a coupla chicks, won every dance contest, and I JUST WOKE UP! I'm too tired and delus... eudes.. LUdic... demented to write anything today. But, in regarding to yestereves' post, yes, twas awkward. Tanks, fiery.
I think I'm comaing again...
Oler da BUUUUUUUTT!
I think I'm comaing again...
Oler da BUUUUUUUTT!
Friday, June 5, 2009
Dancing
There are really only a few ways to Get Your Groove On, Viking Style. In fact, there are only three! Of Each! Rockin' out dances and Slow Dances! Yeah!
1.) The Fazugututamarella: This dance is simple: Flail your legs around in crazy patterns while having your arms be like little pieces of spaghetti. Move in zig-zag patterns around the dance floor, and which ever Viking Chum gets the most girls, wins. For some reason, usually only one girl is ever drawn to someone's dance, and they're usually the type who have 'Ruby' tattooed backward on their forehead.
2.) The ButtaDance: You've all heard this one! Shake your butt until, when you've stop shaking it, its still going. Buttadancing usually doesn't get a lot of girls, but it does get a lot of laughs. Also, if you steal someone else's dance, a buttadance is usually the thing to do to push them over the edge. Sadly, if you use the Buttadance to taunt someone that you stole their date, the stolen date in question usually becomes unstolen. Darn.
3.) The Shakey-Bakey-Craig: No clue who craig is, but this is a form of dance where you vibrate your body at speeds barely discernible to human eyes. If you're REALLY good at it, then your dancing should be COMPLETELY indiscernible to human eyes. Sadly, that means that this dance doesn't pick up any girls, since they can't see you.
Rockin' Out Dances
1.) The Fazugututamarella: This dance is simple: Flail your legs around in crazy patterns while having your arms be like little pieces of spaghetti. Move in zig-zag patterns around the dance floor, and which ever Viking Chum gets the most girls, wins. For some reason, usually only one girl is ever drawn to someone's dance, and they're usually the type who have 'Ruby' tattooed backward on their forehead.
2.) The ButtaDance: You've all heard this one! Shake your butt until, when you've stop shaking it, its still going. Buttadancing usually doesn't get a lot of girls, but it does get a lot of laughs. Also, if you steal someone else's dance, a buttadance is usually the thing to do to push them over the edge. Sadly, if you use the Buttadance to taunt someone that you stole their date, the stolen date in question usually becomes unstolen. Darn.
3.) The Shakey-Bakey-Craig: No clue who craig is, but this is a form of dance where you vibrate your body at speeds barely discernible to human eyes. If you're REALLY good at it, then your dancing should be COMPLETELY indiscernible to human eyes. Sadly, that means that this dance doesn't pick up any girls, since they can't see you.
Slow-Dancin'
Wait, you ask. Everyone slow dances, not just Vikings. True. Very true. But Vikings do it in a style no one on the face of the earth has been able to imitate. Heck, we INVENTED slow dancing, though I can't imagine why, since most Viking Chicks reek. They say the same thing bout us dudes as well, though...
1.) 'Friend-Dancin': This is the one that bugs me. It's where a Viking Chick you're friends with comes up and says, "Let's Dance!" Um, Ok. So you get out there, and she makes you grab her shoulders and stand with your arms extended all the way out and says, "Since we're friends, let's dance like this." Why? What difference does it make? If you just wanted to talk, why couldn't we be talking over where I was sitting and not in the awkward, uncomfortable position? URGH!
2.) 'Normal Dancin': This is the normal, hand on hip, hand-in-hand Dancing. Nice, except I've never experienced this one, since everyone I've ever asked to dance has stated a flat-out "No, I have a date." I can't guess why EVERY single chick has a date no matter where I go; I mean, the last dance I went to was called, The "I'm Single and Desperate, Somebody Please Come Ask Me To Dance, Please" Dance, and Every single one of these girls had dates! How?
3.) 'Oooo-Dancin': This is where you take the girl out on the dance floor and she has you put both your hands around her waist and she has both her hands around your neck. This type of Dance only happened to me once, where a huge, hulkin', hair-covered Viking walked up to me and growled at me. I said to him, "Sup, Dude?" Since I hadn't stolen anyone's date with the Fazugututamarella that night, I figured that I stole his seat or something. I have a policy that I don't give anyone anything they don't ask for, so I waited for him to ask for his seat back. To my shock, the Viking growled, "DANCE WITH ME!", which made me realize that 'He' was really a 'She'. Before I could protest, she had grabbed me by the neck and thrown me into the middle of the floor, where I was forced to 'Ooooo-dance' with her. Afterwards, she was hounding me like a duck, so I booked it out of the gym and made for my boat. Sadly, I had locked the keys in, so I called Triple-A. During the next thirty-minutes before Triple-A came back, I managed to find a disguise with the same friend I mentioned earlier in the 'Friend-Dance.' We exchanged something, and the next thing I knew, my Friend-Dancer was decked out in my Tuxedo and Duct Tape Monstrosity helmet. You can guess what I was wearing. The Hairy She-Viking saw my Friend-Dancer, and tore off after her, thinking she was me. I was about to sneak out to go meet Triple-A by my boat, when I tripped on those ridiculously annoying Non-Flats my friend had had. She-Viking saw the trip, and saw the deception as well. Roaring, she leapt upon me and grabbed me around the waist in one hulkin' hand. Meanwhile, my posse of George the Yellow, Erik the Red, Phil the Conceited, Soren the Hard-of-Hearing-Scribe, and Omar the Bold, all saw what I was trying to do, and failing. Three of my posse sprang into action, while Phil said "He can take care of himself." and Omar said "YES! HE IS FINALLY GOING TO GET WHAT HE DESERVES!" As the She-Viking ran for the nearest Sky-Scraper and began to climb it, George, Erik, and Soren all roared into action in the airplanes they had stolen from the nearest airport. Soon, the big, Hairy She-Viking was holding me aloft and battling the airplanes that were attacking her. Erik's plane took a hit, and it looked for all the world like he was a goner, but he quickly order a parachute from Amazon on his cell phone and asked for single-minute shipping. Within the next minute, a UPS guy appeared in the plane with him, gave him the parachute, and Erik launched himself to safety. The UPS guy, sadly, plummeted in the plane to his doom. But hey, he was a Postal Worker, so who cares, right? George, caught up in the battle, had forgotten that he was scared of heights, and virtually everything else he had been doing up until then. Looking over the side of the plane, he fainted dead away. His plane eventually crash-landed in the ocean, and he found the crew some three weeks later, his nervousness intensified to the level he's at today. Only Soren managed to hit the Hairy She-Viking, and she plummeted to her doom, me being safely stashed on the roof. After everyone except George was reunited, everyone had a good laugh at my expense on how I was wearing a prom-ish like dress. I begged my Friend-Dancer to switch clothes with me, but she was having to fun a time cracking up at my ridiculous appearance. Grumbling, I went out to my boat, where the Triple-A Guy had opened it. "Nice Dress," He said sarcastically. His body was found floating in the Hoover Dam a few weeks later. I discovered some guy named Merian C. Cooper had seen the whole thing, and was adapting it into a feature-length film he called King-Kong, where a Gorilla takes a Hot-Chick onto a roof and battles airplanes. I agreed that She-VIking was a Gorilla. Me being a hot chick? Not so much.
4.) Contact-Dancing: This is where the two of you are basically hugging while waddling around the dance floor. Yeah yeah, I know.... I haven't ever danced like that either.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Summer
Summer
And here we rest
on the dawn
of a new beginning.
Soon we will rise to higher heights
as we fulfill our destinies
in the life ahead.
Only time can tell
what purposes shall be sought and made.
-Short Poem by the Bard of the Bloodhound.
As I've mentioned before, I'm gonna be busy over the summer, so I don't know if I'm going to be able to post every day. Here, I'll show you my schedule:
June 14th-19th: Going to be dropped off a boat with a team of crack viking commandos who will all be attempting to invade Atlantis and take its land for the Viking spoils.
June 22nd-27th: Going to be hunting the Laotogo, since its attacks are becoming more and more severe.
July 6th-11th: Traveling the Atlantic in a bucket to learn if its more reliable.
July 13th-17th: Week-Long 'Jousting' tournament created by the Knights a few thousand years back, where all the main classes and minor classes get together and have a huge 'Demolition Derby," only instead of cars in a dinky baseball stadium, its millions of people across five miles by five miles over the one spot on earth where you get the five environments in one place: Hawaii. The trick is, you can't kill anyone and have the Hawaiians or tourists find out. Otherwise, you're disqualified, and disqualification means death.
July 23rd to 25th: Ninja Hunting in Ireland.
August to end of summer: Bard camp.
SO you see, I'm going to try and post everyday like normal, but most will be scheduled, and the rest I'll just have to skip. We'll see how it goes, though!
Ciao!
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
And here we rest
on the dawn
of a new beginning.
Soon we will rise to higher heights
as we fulfill our destinies
in the life ahead.
Only time can tell
what purposes shall be sought and made.
-Short Poem by the Bard of the Bloodhound.
As I've mentioned before, I'm gonna be busy over the summer, so I don't know if I'm going to be able to post every day. Here, I'll show you my schedule:
June 14th-19th: Going to be dropped off a boat with a team of crack viking commandos who will all be attempting to invade Atlantis and take its land for the Viking spoils.
June 22nd-27th: Going to be hunting the Laotogo, since its attacks are becoming more and more severe.
July 6th-11th: Traveling the Atlantic in a bucket to learn if its more reliable.
July 13th-17th: Week-Long 'Jousting' tournament created by the Knights a few thousand years back, where all the main classes and minor classes get together and have a huge 'Demolition Derby," only instead of cars in a dinky baseball stadium, its millions of people across five miles by five miles over the one spot on earth where you get the five environments in one place: Hawaii. The trick is, you can't kill anyone and have the Hawaiians or tourists find out. Otherwise, you're disqualified, and disqualification means death.
July 23rd to 25th: Ninja Hunting in Ireland.
August to end of summer: Bard camp.
SO you see, I'm going to try and post everyday like normal, but most will be scheduled, and the rest I'll just have to skip. We'll see how it goes, though!
Ciao!
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Nerd Revelations
I can't post today; I'm too busy reading the ninth book in the best series EVER!
The series is about a group of people called Fist Masters that use stolen alien technology, discovered by reading a book called The Book that glows with a green mist everytime it is touched, to turn into animals. They travel through flumes to one of Thirteen diffrent realities (The most prominent one being an island named Mistmantle, where all the races of fairies live in seclusion from humans), which are found in a secret passage in a cave that resides in a never-used mountain in Cody, Wyoming, and battle a bunch of insectoid-like creatures called buggers, led by an undead lich wearing a straw hat and his pet, a panther named Guenhwyvar. The buggers are deadly, as they come up and kill anyone walking on the earth who is walking in rythm, which means the Fist Masters have to walk everywhere off-beat. Over the course of the series, they have learned that the lich's power resides in the ring the leader wears on his finger, and if the Fist Masters cast it into the Crown of Horns, then he shall be sufficiently weakened enough to have a dog led on him by a rabbit, which will then kill him. However, it is not just a matter of killing him, since he can easily be brought back from the dirt, to which he is harnessed, since he has the ancient power of Foo within him. A mouse named Amber may have the answer, though...
Doesn't it sound awesome?
Ok, I just made that up. I got nothing today.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
The series is about a group of people called Fist Masters that use stolen alien technology, discovered by reading a book called The Book that glows with a green mist everytime it is touched, to turn into animals. They travel through flumes to one of Thirteen diffrent realities (The most prominent one being an island named Mistmantle, where all the races of fairies live in seclusion from humans), which are found in a secret passage in a cave that resides in a never-used mountain in Cody, Wyoming, and battle a bunch of insectoid-like creatures called buggers, led by an undead lich wearing a straw hat and his pet, a panther named Guenhwyvar. The buggers are deadly, as they come up and kill anyone walking on the earth who is walking in rythm, which means the Fist Masters have to walk everywhere off-beat. Over the course of the series, they have learned that the lich's power resides in the ring the leader wears on his finger, and if the Fist Masters cast it into the Crown of Horns, then he shall be sufficiently weakened enough to have a dog led on him by a rabbit, which will then kill him. However, it is not just a matter of killing him, since he can easily be brought back from the dirt, to which he is harnessed, since he has the ancient power of Foo within him. A mouse named Amber may have the answer, though...
Doesn't it sound awesome?
Ok, I just made that up. I got nothing today.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Dwarves*
All right, first post of the new month, which is the third month, which isn't really the third month, cuz the first month is actually half a month, and its not the first post, since there was that poll result post, but this has to be the second post, since if I don't count all the posts like I do in my head, I'd only have thirty actual posts, which stinks on at least six levels.
Anyways, I'm here to talk about Dwarves today. Why? Because they're FREAKIN' SWEET!
In all actuality, Dwarves are probably related to Vikings in someway, but we can't REALLY know, since SOMEONE broke the Time Machine and No-One has any records.
Hold on, I need to split. The Bloodhound is being attacked by a buncha Environmentalists. Apparently, our motor** is causing too much pollution. But since we Vikings are a full class and Environmentalists are only a minro class, I'm sure we'll have no problem beating them.
Hello. This is Omar the Bold. It's been a while since I last talked with you, May 22, I think, but I'm hacking into Olaf's post in order to let you know some things. First, it was OLAF who broke the time machine. And second, after everyone had killed or forcibly fed meat to their Environmentalists, Olaf was still being beaten by an environmentalist with a blade of grass. He was crying like a baby, and only George the Yellow, out of pity, went to go help him out. Sadly, George got scared, and he was soon being beaten up by the Environmentalist. If it had just been Olaf, we would have left him there forever, but since George was in trouble, we rescued him. Oop, here Olaf comes...
Ignoring the bolded text that randomly appeared, I have to say, Omar is SUCH a good friend! I recieved a battle wound in our battle with the tree-huggers, and as I walked back to the computer, nursing it, Omar said in a strange tone, "Poor Olaf, do you want a hug?" Though I was willing to take him up on that offer, he calimed the tone he was using was sarcasm. Whatever THAT is.
Anyway, think about it! Dwarves have beards, carry hammers and axes, and like anything that makes you have to go through a DUI! Vikings have beards***, some carry hammers and axes, and like anything that makes you have to go through a DUI! BRILLIANT!
There are two major differences between Vikings and Dwarves, however. One is, Dwarves hate water, while Vikings LOOOOOOVE it!**** The other is that Dwarves are short, and Vikings are tall.
One of the smarterest Vikings, Leif the Armless of CVU, suspects that the Dwarves were actually part of the same Viking tribe that was nearly obliterated by The Unknown. After the hot Viking Female and the Ugly-if-Female-to-referring-to-him VIking Male started up the VIking class once more, Leif guesses that a few hundred years later, some curious Vikings went onto the sea and were capsized by a Kraken. Getting pulled down thousands of feet in a matter of seconds, cutting themselves free, and propelling themselves by farting, the overboard Vikings found themselves compressed by the awesome pressure found the farther you go below the surface. Of course, we only guess this now because of the available technologies in the modern world.
The overboard vikings, shrunk by pressure and now deathly afraid of water, began to stick to the caves. Leif assumes those Vikings decided to change their name, but gradually, in a way that no one could follow. Soon, they had changed their names to Dwarves.
Today, we VIkings are on good terms with Dwarves, though they disagree with our theories that they came from us. Instead, they say that WE came from THEM. And that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard in my life.
I frive a shopping cart!
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*I am not referring to dwarfism, I'm talking about the short, bearded dudes that either like or dislike elves depending on continuity in specific universes.
**Which we definitely don't have.
***Ceptin' for poor little old me, who can't even grow PEACH FUZZ!
****Who out there remembers these guys, eh? Eh?
Anyways, I'm here to talk about Dwarves today. Why? Because they're FREAKIN' SWEET!
In all actuality, Dwarves are probably related to Vikings in someway, but we can't REALLY know, since SOMEONE broke the Time Machine and No-One has any records.
Hold on, I need to split. The Bloodhound is being attacked by a buncha Environmentalists. Apparently, our motor** is causing too much pollution. But since we Vikings are a full class and Environmentalists are only a minro class, I'm sure we'll have no problem beating them.
Hello. This is Omar the Bold. It's been a while since I last talked with you, May 22, I think, but I'm hacking into Olaf's post in order to let you know some things. First, it was OLAF who broke the time machine. And second, after everyone had killed or forcibly fed meat to their Environmentalists, Olaf was still being beaten by an environmentalist with a blade of grass. He was crying like a baby, and only George the Yellow, out of pity, went to go help him out. Sadly, George got scared, and he was soon being beaten up by the Environmentalist. If it had just been Olaf, we would have left him there forever, but since George was in trouble, we rescued him. Oop, here Olaf comes...
Ignoring the bolded text that randomly appeared, I have to say, Omar is SUCH a good friend! I recieved a battle wound in our battle with the tree-huggers, and as I walked back to the computer, nursing it, Omar said in a strange tone, "Poor Olaf, do you want a hug?" Though I was willing to take him up on that offer, he calimed the tone he was using was sarcasm. Whatever THAT is.
Anyway, think about it! Dwarves have beards, carry hammers and axes, and like anything that makes you have to go through a DUI! Vikings have beards***, some carry hammers and axes, and like anything that makes you have to go through a DUI! BRILLIANT!
There are two major differences between Vikings and Dwarves, however. One is, Dwarves hate water, while Vikings LOOOOOOVE it!**** The other is that Dwarves are short, and Vikings are tall.
One of the smarterest Vikings, Leif the Armless of CVU, suspects that the Dwarves were actually part of the same Viking tribe that was nearly obliterated by The Unknown. After the hot Viking Female and the Ugly-if-Female-to-referring-to-him VIking Male started up the VIking class once more, Leif guesses that a few hundred years later, some curious Vikings went onto the sea and were capsized by a Kraken. Getting pulled down thousands of feet in a matter of seconds, cutting themselves free, and propelling themselves by farting, the overboard Vikings found themselves compressed by the awesome pressure found the farther you go below the surface. Of course, we only guess this now because of the available technologies in the modern world.
The overboard vikings, shrunk by pressure and now deathly afraid of water, began to stick to the caves. Leif assumes those Vikings decided to change their name, but gradually, in a way that no one could follow. Soon, they had changed their names to Dwarves.
Today, we VIkings are on good terms with Dwarves, though they disagree with our theories that they came from us. Instead, they say that WE came from THEM. And that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard in my life.
I frive a shopping cart!
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*I am not referring to dwarfism, I'm talking about the short, bearded dudes that either like or dislike elves depending on continuity in specific universes.
**Which we definitely don't have.
***Ceptin' for poor little old me, who can't even grow PEACH FUZZ!
****Who out there remembers these guys, eh? Eh?
Monday, June 1, 2009
Poll Results: Month 2
Ok, this month, we had two polls. They were: Which is better: Pie or Cake? and: Which Dessert would win in an epic fight of deliciousness? And the MUCH better results from our poll as opposed to last month were this:*
WIB:COP?
75%: Pie
25%: Cake
WDWWIAEFOD?
31%: Pie
8%: Cake
23%: Donuts
23%: Ice Cream
15% Candy Bars
And man oh man, was I PUMPED! It's totally obvious that Pie is the best, but I was worried about that second poll for about two weeks, since donuts were ahead. But then two other Pie enthusiasts joined the ranks of the obvious best choice, and everything turned to JOY!
This poll's results were much better than last months. But, as always, its time for a new poll. There are three: One is a chance for redemption, the same poll from Month one. You ALL should vote for vikings now. The Second is simple: What Minor class out of the top ten should become a full class? And the third is an opinion: What Sub-Class are YOU? I hope you poll well.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*The results shown on the side were divided by how many people voted for each one, instead of a blanket vote. Thus, I did the math properly.
WIB:COP?
75%: Pie
25%: Cake
WDWWIAEFOD?
31%: Pie
8%: Cake
23%: Donuts
23%: Ice Cream
15% Candy Bars
And man oh man, was I PUMPED! It's totally obvious that Pie is the best, but I was worried about that second poll for about two weeks, since donuts were ahead. But then two other Pie enthusiasts joined the ranks of the obvious best choice, and everything turned to JOY!
This poll's results were much better than last months. But, as always, its time for a new poll. There are three: One is a chance for redemption, the same poll from Month one. You ALL should vote for vikings now. The Second is simple: What Minor class out of the top ten should become a full class? And the third is an opinion: What Sub-Class are YOU? I hope you poll well.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*The results shown on the side were divided by how many people voted for each one, instead of a blanket vote. Thus, I did the math properly.
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