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!

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!

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'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!

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.

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!

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!

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!

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!

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!

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?

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.

Splintette description

Sigh... I suppose I should tell you all exactly what's been goin' on with the raft.

I was in charge of building a second boat for our crew of the Bloodhound, a raft, to be precise. After five weeks of builing, it was finally time to test it out.

Since Vikings don't buy things, we raided a town of Urbanites and procured all the wood we could carry. Sadly, all we got was ten wooden house sidings, a plywood board, and a miserable pile of firewood. Undaunted, I began to build.

Soon, the wood gathered was assembled into more or less a square, around eight feet by six feet in area. We debated for many seconds on what we needed to use to float it, and we decided to go get some Pool Noodles.

Back to the Urbanites, back to a pool noodle store, back to killing everyone and looting their wallet, and back to the raft, which was still on the dock next to the Bloodhound. AFter securing the pool noodles, I prepared to get on it to see what happened. Erik the Noisy created seven videos with his cell phone while the whole process happened. Here are what he named them:

Begin the raft: Shows Phil the Conceited, George the Yellow, Soren the Hard-of-Hearing-Scribe, and I lifting the raft off the dock.

Flip the raft: Shows the four of us flipping the raft pool noodle side up.

Sink the raft: Shows me stepping onto the raft, and the water suddenly covering the enitre top.

Darn the raft: Shows everyone laughing at me as I step on it a couple more times and audibly say: "Darn."

Ignore the raft: Shows me frantically paddling with an oar on the raft, while it slowly sinks below the surface. I'm rowing the water directly ABOVE the wood.

Break the raft: Shows multiple parts of the raft popping off and floating to the top, as I still stand solemnly on it, continuing to sink.

Where the raft: Show me still determindedly rowing, while it looks like I'm standing on the bottom of the water, since the raft is all but gone from view.

As Gregory the Hairy said that night around the campfire: "At least we have a lot of firewood now!"

I'm still in charge of coming up with a raft or boat of some sort, though Gregory STILL won't tell me what for, but he said I can take a break while I come up with a new way to do it.

Hmmm... Someone mentioned hollowing out a log...

Olaf the BAAAAALD!

No More Splintette

Lets just put it this way:

THE.

BOAT.

SUNK.

Building boats that float is HARD!

Back to the drawing board.

Olaf the BAAAAALD!

Splintette

Can't post today, going to test out a new ship the crew of the Bloodhound made. Chieftain Gregory the Hairy won't tell any of us why we made it, but we did. He said he'll tell us when the time is right.*

Olaf the BAAAAALD!

*Foreshadowing...

Wikipedia Two: Attack of the Laotogo

As in my first Wikipedia rant, I clicked the 'Random Article' button thats on the wikipedian home-and-every page.

The page that popped up was this page. Why? Because, quite simply, that article is WRONG. I never would have thought I'd see the day where the editors of wikipedia would mess up such an obvious page. My only guess is that the Ninjas have something to do with it. Looking around the web, I realized that this basic lie from the wikipedia page had spread all over the internet. I now put it into my hands to warn the entire classed community what the Laotogo is.

Ever heard of... the KRAKEN? Yeah, me too. The Laotogo is like that, but its not some sort of octopus on drugs, like the Kraken is. The Laotogo is a...

BIG...

HONKING...

FROG.

I'll wait for you to stop laughing.



















Done? Good. Since only fools would laugh at that.

Think about it! If Jack Sparrow had been really smart, he wouldn't have stayed on the water while avoiding the Kraken, which meant there was always a 'Get Out of Jail Free' card. But the Laotogo? ITS AN AMPHIBIAN! IT CAN COME UP AN' KILL YOU ON LAND!

One thousand years ago, several years after the destruction of the Urgur* and several years before the Viking's time travel incident**, the remaining surviving classes (Vikings, Knights, Ninjas, Pirates, Clowns, Postal Workers, Musketeers, Dentists, Samurai) were all remaining.*** Suddenly, We Vikings noticed some of our ships were diappearing. Worried, we investigated the disappearances, and after the fiftieth investigation team discovered the giant frog, put their research in a bottle, threw it overboard before the frog devoured them, and it floated to our headquarters. Here, after looking at the very detailed diagrams, the chief Vikings named it: THE LAOTOGO!

Warning the other classes about the danger, the Vikings prepared to eliminate the monster. They received more support than they had counted on. Knights joined the cause since all the dragons had already been killed by them. Samurai joined the cause since they figured the Laotogo fought with no honor. Dentists joined the cause since they needed water to clean people's teeth, and they were afraid the Laotogo would hog all the water sources. Postal Workers joined the cause since the Laotogo was picking off air-mail-shipments flying over the ocean with its froggy tongue. Musketeers joined because they wanted to show the Knights up. Clowns joined the cause because the Laotogo was sucking laughs out of the world, since it was causing so many bad things to happen to people.**** Pirates joined the cause because of the very same reasons why the Vikings did. And Ninjas, still in exile from their destruction of the Urgur, crept forward, timidly offering people for the cause in an effort to redeem themselves. Thus, the largest alliance and army of the classes EVER marched forth to defeat the Laotogo.

After traveling for many days from all of the corners of the world, the army brought the Laotogo to them by shouting many insults over the waters. At first, we were worried that the Laotogo did not know that we were insulting it. But, after enough insults of the worst damage were said, insults like 'Froggy Breath' and 'Froggy eyes', the Laotogo figured out it was the one being insulted. The army saw two bumps in the distance after about ten days of shouting, and the next thing they knew, the bumps were eyes, and the next thing they knew AGAIN, the Laotogo was upon them.

For seven days the army fought the Laotogo, and for seven days, they did no damage., with Vikings having the most casualties.Desperate, the army gathered the ten most powerful archmages in the army and asked them to call upon an ice age. The ice age, the classes rationalized, would send the Laotogo into hibernation, and at least stop the Laotogo temporarily until a more permanent solution could be brought upon. Since the Ninja Archmages had dodged the attacks of the Laotogo, while certain other classes' archmages couldn't, five of the ten archmages were ninjas.

Sadly, when the Archmages cast the spell for the ice age, they barely had started the spell when it back-fired on them. Nine of the ten archmages were erased with all proof of their existance disappearing save for the memories. One Ninja archmage held on, however. His name was Craig "Hidden Fist of the Cobra" Crawlin, and he managed to concentrate the spell right onto the Laotogo, so that the power of 1/20th of an ice age would descend upon the Laotogo. The Laotogo instantly froze, but the magical backlash of the spell killed everything within a mile radius of the Laotogo and Hidden Fist of the Cobra.*****

After the dust settled, many of the warriors of the classes had survived. The Laotogo had frozen and sunk to the bottom of the ocean. No-One knew exactly how long the Laotogo would hibernate, but many hoped it would stay forever.

Sadly, it has recently thawed.

Now, I don't think I've properly explained to you exactly what the Laotogo is, but here's a brief description:

Imagine a frog. Now imagine a frog as tall as a 50-story building. Imagine that frog hating everything that exists. IMagine that frog with a tongue that can reach out with a tongue the size of a redwood and swallow whole islands whole. THAT is the Laotogo.******

Since its so big, it moves through time a little slower than normal. SO scientists from all the classes guess that it won't go into vengence mode for at least another ten years, when it fully wakes up. But the problem is, since its awake again, it'll still do all the damage it did a thousand years ago, but at a slightly more slower rate. ALready, we're getting reports from the classes of sighting of the Laotogo. Its been killing many.

SO, here's some advice in case you ever see the Laotogo, on land OR on sea.

1.) Never insult it. SInce you're so small compared to it, it won't notice you and directly target you. Squish you, yes, but it won't be on purpose. But since its still scarred from the army's insultafest, then it hears every one. ONce you speak harshly, you dead.

2.) DOn't try to fight it on your own, with ten other people, with ten thousand other people, with ten MILLION people. When the final battle comes, we're going to need help from every class, sub-class, and any other class EVER in order to beat this thing. We might even need humans!

Um... that's pretty much all you can use. Otherwise, you're done for.

Good luck.

Olaf the BAAAAALD!

*This post.

**This post.

***I had a really good sentence worked out, but by the time I checked my history books, I forgot where I was going. So I used remaining twice.

****Though, they thought that the misfortunes it caused to the other classes was pretty funny.

*****Incidentally, this act from a Ninja helped end much of the individual hatreds of the other classes, still steamed from the Urgur incident.

******OH, and it can jump over China in one bound.

Trying to get you to...

Plip.

Plop.

Plip.

Plop.

Plip.
Flush!
Plop.

Plip.
Flush!
Plop.

Plip.
Flush!
Plop.
WATER
Plip.
Flush!
Plop.
WATER
Plip
Flush!
Plop

A wetta-wetta-wetta-wetta...

DRINK IT DOWN!

A-boodaboodabingtingalingbaddaboodaboodabingtingalingakshakshboomkalangkaboomboomboomboombingatingtingbaddabaddabaddabadda

Plip Ting
Flush! Ting
Plop Ting
WATER Ting
Plip Ting
Flush! Ting
Plop Ting
WATER Ting

UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH...*

Plip Ting
Flush! Ting
Plop Ting
WATER Ting
Plip Ting
Flush! Ting
Plop Ting
WATER Ting
Plip Ting
Flush! Ting
Plop Ting
WATER Ting
Plip Ting
Flush! Ting
Plop Ting
WATER Ting
Plip Ting
Flush! Ting
Plop Ting
WATER Ting
Plip Ting
Flush! Ting
Plop Ting
WATER Ting

YOU SHOULD GO TO THE BATHROOM NOW.

SO, what'd you think of my new bardic song? I call it, "Trying to get you to...", as mentioned in this posts' title. I'm trying to get you to go to the bathroom. The idea is, you hear enough things bout water, you start needing to go. THis is a group ocapella thing, so here's the parts:

Person 1: The 'Plip' and 'Plop'.
Person 2: The FLUSH!
Person 3: The WATER
Person 4: The Ting
Person 5: The beatboxer and the one who says the words from the footnote.
Everyone: The bolded and italized words, the ones that are both of those.

Try it out with a group of your amigoes! See how long it takes before you all have to run to the bathroom!

Olaf the BAAAAALD!

*While the group sings a steady note, someone says, "Niagra, Loch Ness, flooding, dripping, hurricanes, hoover dam, sweating, humidity, great lakes, water, plip."

Good News (AKA Boring Post)

Yesterday, the day before yesterday, and today is and was an experiment.

What sort of experiment, you ask?

Well, I am experimenting with Blogger dot Com's capabilities, and you know what?

YOU CAN SCHEDULE POSTS!

Why is this good news, you might ask?

Remember what I've been saying about not being able to keep up with the masses during the upcoming summer, since I'm going to be busy?

I'm sure you all cried.

But now I can schedule posts for the entire summer!

I can even schedule posts for when, four years from now, I leave to go on a Viking journey and won't have access to a computer for two years!

I'm sure you're all excited.*

Olaf the BAAAAALD!

*I know how incredibly boring and unranty- this post was, but COME ON! Yesterday's was incredibly long and epic. I can't do one of those every day, you know!

Other Sub-Classes

As I have mentioned before, there are many Sub-Classes beyond the main Nine classes of the 21st century. Even as we speak, the main rulers of the classes are discussing amongst themselves to decide if there should be a tenth, especially since it seems Dentists are moving in closer to calling Vikings their true rival. And, Samurais DO need a rival, someone to truly be able to fight back. Here, as given to me personally by our leader, Leif the Armless of CVU, are the top ten choices for the tenth main class.

10.) Lumberjacks: These are extremely influential in our world, but there are several reasons why they are not classified as a main class. One, they are basically like land vikings. Why? Because they use axes, cut down trees (for things like ships) and they stink.* They are also inferior to Vikings as well, since they don't have horns on their helmet, they don't travel in ships, and their proficiency in a variety of weapons beyond axes in not very... diverse.

9.) Rock Stars: These guys would be awesome to add to our class repertoire, but there are a few bad things about them as well. One, they'd all be bards, and two, they're all drug addicts. Its no fun to kill a druggy, trust me. Those stupid Urgur back in the dawn of time were ALWAYS high on their fires. We've all vowed not to make that mistake again.

8.) Spartans: Oh. MAN. They were awesome. But that's just the thing: They WERE awesome, they're not ARE awesome. Now, the entire Sub-Class is a bunch of nerds or wanna-be nerds shouting 'THIS... IS... SPARTA!" at random things and Viking-Kicking*** doors down. And though that yell makes you want to scream, shout, dance, cry, and pee all at the same time, ANYONE can say it.

7.) Were-Wolves: These guys would be in, but for some reason, they hate Vampires so much that if Vampires weren't a class, Were-Wolves would refuse to be a class as well, since then, Vampires would not be allowed to be their rival. And Vampires can't be a class because of four words:

TWILIGHT.

BY.

STEPHANIE.

MEYER.*****

6.) Public Relations officials: These guys would be at the top, because they got influence, power, influence, and are good at fighting in a pinch. But, quite simply, their job is as utterly pointless as a telephone repairman. So, these guys will probably waver between 6th and seventh place FOREVER.

5.) Environmentalists: True, these guys have been argued by my only fan for rise to class-dom. But honestly? They are really only as good as a normal human, since they still use crude means like... GUNS... and... GRENADES.... and... PLANT FOOD... they only thing that makes them non-human is their love for animals. I mean, come on, who doesn't like to squash a bug when they see one? I was in a Fast-Food restaurant one time, and a guy called his waiter over and said, "There's a bug in my soup. Is it supposed to be there, or not?" You could tell the guy rode the short-bus a little too much as a Little Kid. The waiter said, "I'm sorry, sir, would you like me to dispose of it?" Suddenly, someone vaulted out of one of those ridiculously large plants and sprayed the waiter with a bottle. "BUG-KILLER!" The person who jumped out of a plant yelled, ripping apart his dirt-colored clothes to reveal the common clothes of an environmentalist: A white polo shirt with an organization's symbol on it like PETA or Greenpeace on it. Due to the planty substance, the waiter died, writhing on the ground in mortal pain. However, the Environmentalist didn't think his way through his situation, because at that point, around fifty Waiters came ppouring into the restaurant, mercilessly slaughtering the environmentalist and then dropping cruelly slaughtered animals all over his body, as a sign of disrespect. As you can see, Environmentalists have nothing on Number Four.

4.) Waiters: Are also known as Butlers. And if you really have to ask why waiters are on the list, let me give you two reasons. One, look at Number 5.): Environmentalists. And two, two words for you:

ALFRED.

PENNYWORTH.

3.) Cowboys: With such examples like Indiana Jones and Orson Porter Rockwell, Cowboys definitely are a top choice for the next class. The problem is, they're too rednecky, they only use guns, and they wear ridiculous pants. Don't get me wrong, they have some serious powers. For example, they can spit farther most normal guns, their spit can be modified by adding in whatever substances they have ever ate, and they can summon large herds of cows to squash you flat. And they've got a great catch-phrase: "I've got a SNAKE in muh BOOT!"

2.) G.I. Joe: Yes, this class is second place, because of their influence on society and the fact that they can be called stuff like 'GI Jose' (Spain), 'GI Jacque' (France), 'GI Giuseppi' (Italian), and 'GI Jane' (Futuristic feministic society.) And for other reasons...

HAHAHAHA! Just kidding! That would be the worst class ever! THAT MOVIE LOOKS LIKE ITS GONNA BOMB! Anyway here's the real second most-likely class option...

2.) Used Car Salesmen: These guys can sell you their 12-month-old toe lint for two thousand bucks, and make you sell your 1963 vintage Ferrari for thirteen bucks and Some Milkduds. They have to. Otherwise, they'll have to stop feeding their kids for the month, since that ten-bucks usually spent feeding them will have to go toward that new thirty-six thousand dollar cruise he and mommy are going on. For the fifth time this month. But how does that help them in combat, you may ask? Well, I'll tell you. Imagine this: A Ninja comes up to a UCS and is all like, "Yo, wassup? I look forward to killing you soon!" The next thing Ninja knows, he's buying back the Bo-Staff for five-hundred bucks that he just sold to the UCS for two, AND the UCS whacked him one with it! Just deadly, I'll tell you.

And now, what you've all been waiting for: THE MOST-LIKELY SUB-CLASS TO BECOME A FULL CLASS! Except, I'm gonna kill the suspense, since there are actually two battling for supremeacy.

1.) Amazons vs. Little Kids!

Why Amazons? Three words for you:

OOO.

LA.

LA.

Why Little Kids? A simple phrase, said by Edward Teach, leader of the Pirates: 'Little kids are Demons wrapped up in an outer shell of Angelicness.'

So, now you know. Maybe one day, when you join the ranks of the Viking Class, or any other class, you traitor, you'll be able to help vote in the final decision. But, you're probably not, so too bad for you.

Olaf the BAAAAAALD!******

*No offense to them. I completely understand that after several hours of work, you sweat like crazy. And, quite honestly, dired-or-drying sweat stinks. So, if a lumberjack DID take offense, trust me, you need to just deal with it. And hey, I insulted Vikings too. Deal with it.**

**No offense.

***Its not a spartan kick, its a Viking kick. Yet another reason why Spartans shouldn't be a class: They're rip-offs!****

****Though Pirates ripped us off as well...

*****Once you start glowin', you can't be fightin'.

******I added an extra A for today! And on the sixth asterisk, too! Didja notice? I did!

Apology

I'm SORRY!

OH SO SORRY!

Friday's post, About the Duct Tape Monstrosity, had offended my only reader, "I Once Was On Fire," whom I've nicknamed "Firey" throughout some of my posts, in ways I can't understand! Something about the Unicorns. So, in an attempt to get my only reader back... Here's an apology.

I'm SORRY!

IT WAS HAIRY!

I'M AN OFFENSIVE GUY!

EVEN THOUGH I DON'T LIKE UNICORNS!

I LIKE MY READERCORNS!

I THINK I'M GONNA CRY!

K, that's all you're gettin'.

Olaf the BAAAAALD!

Gardening

Though Gardeners ARE a type of sub-class, many people gardenate, vikings included. Today, all I did was... make a ... GARDEN.

Gardens are STUPID! IN the good old day, we vikings used to make like rabbits and raid them instead of actually planting them ourselves. But since NO-ONE REALLY plants gardens anymore, except for flower gardens, and i'm talkin' food gardens, we have to plant our own.

I got woken up earlier than I EVER do, the Crack Of Ten O' Clock! Gregory the Hairy lined up his crew, gave us all jobs, and sent us out.

I was in charge of weeding. I hate weeding! ITS AN UTTERLY POINTLESS JOB! Once you pull ONE plant out, another 50 await! And its not like there's 51 plants there, either. FOr every ONE plant you pull up, 50 pop up! Its like this: for every 51 you pull up, 2601 are still there. NIGHTMARES!

Not only that, but than the Zoobie* Gardeners that live near Urbia come walking up and giving us... INSTRUCTIONS.

"USE YOUR BACK! DON'T PUT THAT MUCH WEED KILLER DOWN! WATCH OUT FOR THAT RAKE! YOU'RE DOING THAT ALL WRONG! STOP LOOKING AT ME! HOES ARE NOT MEANT FOR SWINGING! ESPECIALLY NEAR MY FACE!"

Ugh.

Gardening stinks.

Olaf the BAAAAALD!

*I mean Zoobie, not Zombie.

Duct Tape Monstrosity

Since Vikings don't use money, we can't buy cool equipment online. And since we can't buy cool equipment online, we can't get any cool equipment except from stealing. And you can't get good equipment from stealing, since No-One in this century has any Viking paraphenelia. And since no-one has any Viking Paraphenilia, you gotta go to a blacksmith and get him to make some. But we don't have money to pay blacksmiths. And even then, if we had money, we would go buy cool equipment online.

HORRIBLE ENDLESS CIRCLES!

As you can tell, there aren't really any good places... or things... to get Viking equipment from. And all the stuff we brought from the past, some DOOFUS suggested that we should plant them so we can get more. And WHOEVER suggested it thought that since Vikings are so hairy, we must be related to squirrels, and so, now matter WHERE WE BURIED our stuff, we would be able to find it.

Guess what?

We're not related to Squirrels.

I hate it when people come up with stupid crap like that. And I definitely DON'T know who it was, either.

Hold on, Gregory the Hairy wants me to do KP...

Hello. I'm G-G-G-George the Y-Y-Y-Yellow. O-O-Omar the Bold wanted m-m-me to f-f-f-f-f-fill in for his sn-sn-sn-sneakin' in words into Olafs-fs-fs-fs post to-to-to-today. He j-j-j-just wanted me to t-t-t-tell y-you that it w-w-was Olaf wh-wh-who sugg-gg-ggested th-that w-w-w-we plan-palan-palant the-the-the equipment.

Hey, this is Omar. I told George to not to transcribe his nervousness, but hey. That's what you get when your ENTIRE BODY STUTTERS.

H-h-h-h-h-ey...

Huh, I don't remember writing all that bolded and italicized text up there, but I must have had a good reason for it, so I'm not even going to look at it and write with a newfound furor. Stupid soapy suds all over my keyboard.

So, here's our solution for our problem:

DUCT TAPE!

Now, we were hesitant about doing this, but after reading some ONE PIECE, throwing duct tape balls into the water, and putting our Duct-Tape made helmets on Ninjas and smacking the crap out of their heads, we decided three things:

1.) Rag-Tag hats are cooler than they sound.

2.) Duct Tape dries out REALLY WELL.*

3.) It can withstand around .05% of blows.

Those three reasons made us decid that Duct tape, an invention of the modern age, is the new material to make helmets, and occasionally whole sets of armor. For everything else, we use bear fur.**

Olaf the BAAAAALD!

*The first time.

**Stolen from... Michaels.***

***Yeah, how sissy of us. But we get our weapons from Wal-Mart!****

****Yeah, how sissy of us.*****

*****AND IT WAS UNICORN FUR! YEAH! KILL DA UNICORNS! SISSY UNICORNS! Heh heh... heh he... heh.******

******This was not a crack at any organization that has the Unicorn as a mascot.

Shanty

Part of my job of being a Bard is to create rowing songs for our crew, for when we row (while our motor's broken*). Here is one of my newest ones.

Oh, and here's the key:

Words look like this when the Bard is singing.

Words look like this when the crew is singing.

Words look like this when everyone sings.

Here goes!

"We are Vikings"

by the bard Olaf the Bald of the viking crew of the Bloodhound

The toll upon our bones, we weep

The pace with waves our arms, we keep

The feeling of glory that comes our way

waxes and wanes day by day

The feeling of triumph, in our grasp

The weapons, of deadly, in our clasp

We'll conquer and feel the ones of old

beckoning to us we are so... bold ...

We are vikings, go and go

Stick the oars in, row and row

Pity the ones for their sake

Death and Destruction follow our wake...

We are vikings, go and go

Stick the oars in, row and row

Pity the ones for their sake

Death and Destruction follow our wake...

All over the land, all over the sea

we fight and kill our enemies

and those who fear us, don't be wrong

you'll be next before too long

the ones who sing, do not forget

have no worries, do not regret

those who oppose us will soon be gone

Because we are the number one...

Num... ber... one...

We are vikings, go and go

Stick the oars in, row and row

Pity the ones gone for their sake

Death and Destruction follows our wake...

And I'm warning you, firey... It's one thing to insult Hagar the Horrible's poems, but you EVEN LOOK AT MINE THE WRONG WAY, AND I'LL TRACK YOUR IP ADDRESS TO YOUR HOUSE!

So, you liked it, eh?

Olaf the BAAAAALD

*That we definitely don't have.

Death

When Vikings die, there is a customary way for them to be sent off to the next life. First things first, you need to make a boat. For elderly people who are about to bite it, boats are usually made weeks prior, so the person's body doesn't start to stink from rotting. And, MAN! Do people STINK when they die! I mean, look at THIS: and you'll see what I mean.

Anyway, once the boat is made or recycled from a prior boat*, you put the Viking in it and send it off toward the horizon. We believe that once the Viking is returned to the sea, he (or she)'s spirit will be sent to the afterlife.

In the afterlife, you have two options to go to. If you have a blood oath or something, then you are able to go back to earth as a spirit and kill the person you have sworn a blood oath to kill. Unlike most people's beliefs about blood oaths, being a spirit allows you to complete that without any of that annoying junk like ... BODIES, or ... PHYSICAL PARTS OF YOU, or ... NOT BEING ABLE TO WALK THROUGH WALLS. You know, that stuff.

Once all your blood oaths are completed, you get to go to... THE PLACE. No one knows what THE PLACE is, but we Vikings assume its a viking heaven.

So let's review:

1.) If you are dead or dying**, your people put you on a boat and send you off.

2.) You tip over.

3.) You get to fulfill blood oaths as a spirit.

4.) You go... to... THE PLACE.

Thank you. I hope I've been completely serious throughout this serious subjet to talk about.***

Olaf the BAAAAALD!

*The fanciest boat for a dead Viking I've ever seen was used when a boat was deemed too dangerous to go out on open water on. It was HUGE! It held over two-thousand men at its prime. So, just when we're about to dissemble it for wood, Frederick the Jolly bites it. So we put him on the boat, and let it float away, just like you're supposed to do for a Viking.

**You don't neceasarily have to be DEAD, just close to death with no chance to escape it. For example, getting bitten with a poisonous snake with no antidote around. Most vikings just want to go on that boat anyway, so their closest friends don't see them in their final death throes. I just think death throes are fun... Wait, I mean, uh... sad, not funny. I wasn't gonna say funny!

***I LIED! I HAVEN'T BEEN SERIOUS AT ALL! AHHAHAHAHAHAHA! Death RULES! Unless, of course, its my death.****

****Moment of silence for my future death.

Classes, Sub-Classes, Wanna-Be Classes, and Glasses.

CLASSES

While their are nine major classes, there DID used to be twelve, and there have been thirteen in all.

The nine major classes as of two-thousand and nine are, in order of prevalence, Ninjas, Dentists, Robots, Firemen, Postal Workers, Pirates, Clowns, Vikings, and Samurai, though the prevalence is constantly changing. For example, in the 'Golden Age of Piracy,' Pirates were the most prevalent. But once upon a time, long ago, when the world was first created, there were twelve, in order of prevalence: The Unknown, Samurai, Pirates, Knights, Vikings, Ninjas, Musketeers, Dentists, Clowns, Postal Workers, Urgur, and Robots.

Noticeably absent are the Firemen. They are the only wanna-be class that fully made it to class-status. But more on Wanna-Be classes a few more paragraphs down.

The Unknown (S) were a class that existed very shortly in the meridian of time. After the twelve classes had been chosen and arranged, The Unknown claimed THEY were supreme. The other eleven classes disagreed, and an epic battle ensued. Sadly, every member of each class was defeated, with only one male and one female left for each class, save for The Unknown, who had all of their numbers alive. Oh, and the Robots had been wiped out. Sadly, The Unknown were so cruel, they left the most attractive females and the most unnattractive males alive (I wouldn't know about the unattractive males part, I took someone's word for it.) Apparently, The Unknown did that as punishment to the other classes' females, because those females refused to date them. The Unknown, then realizing that there was no challenge for them, left the planet, warning all who lived there that if they referred to The Unknown by anything other than bolded, italized, 'The Unknown', that person would be killed. Painfully. There are over one million cases of this happening. No one knows how The Unknown know when someone does this, we just know that that person shall die.

The remaining ten classes on the earth had their remaining members marry and mate, much to the chagrin of the females and to the delight of the males. The attractiveness factors among their children soon evened out, and the world was back to how it was before. The Ninjas, being posers and desiring to be more like The Unknown, left their hippie roots (they used to be epic Gardeners) and tried as hard as they could to become like The Unknown, but even now have only reached half the level of awesomeness The Unknown had.

Around a thousand years of peace ('Peace', being defined by the classes as 'A time where war happens only every five minutes'), with many of the classes keeping their identities secret from the Humans, out from the Humans came many Wanna-Be classes, the Firemen being one of them, created when a few fires created by the Urgur got out of hand.. For the most part, the main classes ignored them. But one day, disaster struck.

The Urgur's main defining trait was that they lived in the firey parts of the world. When Ninjas figured out how to travel through fire, the Urgurs were destroyed. That left only nine major classes, with thousands of wanna-be classes. All the other classes banded together to try and eliminate the Ninjas, because of their horrible abomination they had done: Destroying one of the other classes. A few of the Ninjas escaped, however, and after the other classes cooled down, the Ninjas came back, and began building again. Around this same time, with the Vikings dying out, they jumped into their time machine and left for the late 1900s.

Those who can't follow me, the Prevalence at this point of time was Knights, Pirates, Samurai, Musketeers, Clowns, Dentists, Postal Workers, and Ninjas.

One day, late in the 15th the Knights did the unthinkable: They killed the Musketeer's Queen, their'lady. It was a chance happening, and the Knights apologized profusely, but it was too late. The Musketeers vowed that they would not rest until all Knights were eliminated from the world. Over the next hundred years, the two classes savagely fought, with mostly no interference at all from any of the other classes. However, Pirates sided with the Musketeers several times during the war, and Ninjas sided with Knights, though both doing it in secret. Suddenly, it happened. The last Musketeer and the last Knight fought, and with a single thrust from both of them, they died. At this point, the Pirates and Ninjas discovered that they were working against each other, and thus began the horrible feud that lasts to this day.

Update: Pirates, Samurai, Ninjas, Postal Workers, Dentists, and Clowns.

Once again, relative "Peace" occured for a few hundred years, until a human by the name of Einstein simultaneously did two things: discovered a blueprint for the making of a Robot, and out-smarted a Ninja. While making the robot, Einstein gained rights to talk with the entire ninja class due to his work in out-smarting a Ninja. While talking with them about life, Einstein convinced them to let the Firemen become a full-blown class, since he felt very much akin to Benjamin Franklin, who had tried to do the same thing for Firemen nearly two hundred years ago with the 'Invention' of the fire department. The other classes were not so quick to let the Firemen into the circle of classes, however. In a quick decision, the six main classes at this point decided to have a six v. six battle, one warrior from each of the main classes vs. six firemen. Whoever won decided whether or not the firemen would actually become a full-blown class.

AT the end of the battle royal, all twelve warriors were dead. However, so impressed were the six major classes about how the firemen had performed, they decided to let them in anyway.

Minutes after the induction of the firemen, Einstein finished making the first robot since the beginning of time. However, his plan backfired, and the robot killed him, quickly making new robots. Three classes, worried about what impact the new robots would make, volunteered to destroy them. The Firemen were one of those classes, and most of the other classes wanted this to be another induction. The Postal Workers, however, wished to be given the glory as well. The two classes clashed, starting another feud not unlike Pirates vs. Ninjas.

Meanwhile, the Clowns left to battle the robots, taking advantage of the other two distracted classes. A huge battle commenced, which was the real result why those two nukes went off in Japan. Eventually, a Samurai assault team entered the battle, sick and tired of the long war in their homeland. After some negotiations, the Robots were allowed BACK into the major classes, the first time they had ever been able to do so since the Destruction of their class by The Unknown nearly eight thousand years ago.

Once again, 'Peace' commenced. During this period from Then to Now, the Vikings arrived from the past. They were quickly inducted back into the major classes, which brings us to now.

How was THAT for a history lesson? Next time your history teacher starts talking about any crap, don't worry. THIS is all the history you need to know.

Sub-Classes

Now that you know all of the major classes, you need to know that most of those classes have sub-classes. No, I don't mean like the 'Caste' system in Inida or whatever, I mean, like, Bards.

Here, I'll give you the Sub-Classes you need to know, which is all of them.

Fighter: Nothing special. Fights. Has a primary weapon.

Ranger: Uses ranged weapons. Very often a cheap person.

Mage: Can use magic. Speaks in latin half the time.

Bard: Uses music to harm his enemies, as well as fight.

Thief: Steals stuff from others.

Healer: Heals people.

Need some more help? Here's my full class build:

"I am Olaf the Bald, a Tri-sub-classed Bard*/Ranger**/Fighter*** Viking."

Got it now? Now, you can, TOO, classify yourself! Unless you're not a viking. Then I'll show you how to classify yourself nice and easy:

"I am Cron****, a Quintople-Sub-Classed Loser/Loser/Loser/Loser/Loser Extra-Loser*****."

Wanna-Be (Minor) Classes

Now, while there are only nine current MAJOR classes, there ARE minor classes that don't really have enough influence on the world to be counted as a class, or even enough firepower (figuratively speaking, since Viking don't use ranged weapons). Here are ten examples of Wanna-Be Classes:

1. Astronauts
2. Librarians
3. Environmentalists
4. Policemen
5. Cowboys
6. Rock Stars
7. Lumberjacks
8. Acrobats
9. Vampires
10. Little Kids

Get the idea? Good. Now, Sub-Classes are not things like 'Rednecks', 'Nerds', 'Jocks', or anything along THOSE lines. Those are personality traits. If you think they're some sort of class anyway, then call them 'Sub-Sub-Sub-Classes.' The Sub-Sub-Classes, I'm sure you can guess what those are.

Glasses

I used to wear glasses all the time. Its because when I was, like, five, just before the Viking Time Machine incident, I got mad at a tree and threw a stick at it. The tree had the last laugh, though, since the stick richocheted against the tree and struck me in the eye. I've had lowered vision ever since in that eye (my right, in case you were wondering). I don't wear glasses now, but whenever someone like Phil the Conceited finds my old elementary school yearbooks, its embarassing.

Anyway, happy 60th! Almost two full months of posts!

Olaf the BAAAAALD!

*Remember, I said I''m a drummer in my 'Chucks' post either last month or this month? Drum-Chucks, baby!

**Remember, I'm trained in the art of a slingshot! My 'Ranged Weapons' post either last month or the month before? However, that's a secret, since Vikings should NEVER use ranged weapons under any circumstance. I had... an interesting childhood.

***Most Vikings are fighters, anyway.

**** Generic name.

***** BURN!

How to do the Wildanceamancer

So, I have consistantly mentioned my unique fighting style, which I have consistantly called the Wildanceamancer attack, a duel wielding Nunchaku/Battle Ax combo. I bet many of ou are wondering: "What crack-headed attack is that attack?"
WAIT NO! That's not the question you were wanting to be answered! What was I thinking? Ha ha ha! The question you're REALLY asking is "How Kick-Butt AWESOME is that attack?" I will show you. The diagram below is drawn by me, in a style of artwork Hagar the Not-So-Horrible calls "Crap", but I call "Artsome." Its where my cartoonish characters have invisible arms and no visible legs! You know what that is?
ARTSOME!

HOW TO DO THE WILDANCEAMANCER

huh? Huh? HUH? Pretty sweet, YAH?

Olaf the BAAAAALD!

VIking Helmets- (The End of COOA)

You know what happened to Olaf? He won. Yeah, I did. That was obvious, no matter what answer you picked. I've decided that this whole idea is stupid on at least seven levels. So, I'm back (again) to giving you fresh-picked advice!

Some Vikings have decided to start using the internet, like I already did (I'm a trend setter, baby!) Some of them have started a f0rum, one that no Non-or-Almost Viking will ever be able to find. And one of the topics on the forum right now is... VIKINGS APPARENTLY DON'T HAVE HORNS ON THEIR HELMETS!

Some scientists think that the reason we aren't aware of this is because of the Time Machine Incident Eight Hundred and Eighty years ago (as referenced to in the 'My Age' post of May, 2009). But whatever the case, THIS is the reason why we are concerned about our horns.

I mean, I've been wearing horns on my helmets for years, and never thought about it! It DOES make sense, though; I mean, swinging a weapon around usually gets blocked by whacking your own horns and stuff. It does help in SOME occasions, though. One time, I swung my Nunchaku at a ninja, and on a backswing, I whacked the left horn of my helmet and it flew off. After the ninja was dispatched, I turned around and saw that the two horns were imbedded in a Clown, who had been sneaking up on me minutes before.

I guess the main reason why I'm so upset is, even though YOU may not remember, I remember the Knights of the first half of 12th century, the one I was born in. Knights were cheap, to put it mildly. They wore hornless helmets, tons of armor, and were nearly IMPOSSIBLE to kill. They were one of the main reasons behind the Viking depression of the 12th century, and one of the main reasons why we left it. We learned that, in an effort to kill off the ninjas in Europe, knights tried to kill them off with the bubonic plague, which had been secretly invented by robots. However, Ninjas are just too dang fast to catch diseases, and the plague backfired on the knights, killing them all off so there were none left by the time the Vikings arrived in the late 20th century.

Anyway, if we Vikings didn't wear horned helmets, that means our helmets are no better than a ... GULP ... knight! UGH!

There IS one advantage to this, though. Since Phil the Conceited had to go and sell all of my COOL, METAL helmets on eBAY, I had to make a new one out of duct tape. It is NOT very Viking-esque. I'm constantly worried that its gonna fall off into the water and get ruined, get sat upon and crushed, ANYTHING bad that can happen to a duct tape contraption, I constantly worry about.

Horns are hard to find nowadays, with Environmentalists (a wanna-be class, like cowboys and astronauts) like PETA killing anyone who takes a picture of an animals bad side or worse, its just hard. The main problem is, even if I wanted to get a full-blown horned viking hat again, most cost money (Which Vikings don't use) or need horns (Which those poser environmentalists are obviously hoarding.). SO, I think if I'm going to get a true helmet again, I'ma gonna need to go hornless style.

Where am I gonna get the actual helmet part, though? I think I know. Omar the Bold has, like, fifty metal bowls in his kitchen. I think I can sneak in and get one ...

I'll keep ye posted, as I think I'm going through a image change....

Olaf the BAAAAALD!

I WARNED YOU! (CHoose Olaf's Own Adventure part 4)

Olaf picks number thirteen.

A crack appears underneath his feet from the pavement he's sitting on.

The Teen Titans turn to run, but glowing monkeys fly out of the cracks and engulf them whole.

Olaf falls on the ground, trembling as the cracks grow larger, and as something pushes its way up to the surface.

Roaring, a huge demon thrusts its way into the sky, making all things that are standing up on the surface not stand up.

Suddenly, Olaf realizes that his Nun-Chucks and Ax were with him the whole time.

A. Wildanceamancer, SONS!

B. Weak spot is its head!

C. Weak spot is its toes!

D. Weak spot is his chest!

E. Weak spot is his humurous!'

Olaf the BAAAAALD*

*Sorry for the lame post today, I've been busy today. Thumbs up!

I'm back, Some news, and Choose Olaf's Own Adventure part 3

All right, off my strike, thanks to my one and only fan! Some cool things I think yall should know:

1. I MADE A SHEATH FOR MY NUN-CHUCKS! Who's ever done THAT before, huh?

2. I'M MAKING A CONSCIOUS EFFORT TO SAY NUNCHAKU INSTEAD OF NUN-CHUCKS! Why? Sounds cooler.

3. I"M PREPARING FOR AN EXCURSION! More details if I ever actually do it.

4. I AM PLANNING ON ADDING SOMETHING TO THE BLOG! Here's a hint: "Out-Classed." Ring any bells? It will soon.

Ok, so here's the next installment to the adventure!

The superhero Cockroachbumpedfeatheryman, formerly known as Olaf the Bald, flew to Jump City. As he flew over the city, the Teen Titans attacked him.

"What did I ever do to you?" Our superhero with the too long of a name cried.

"You look like a freak!" Beast Boy said, halfway inbetween transformations of naked mole rat and chincilla. Due to this, he looked like a Naked Moleicilla Chinrat, one of the most freakiest looking things in the world.

"And everyone knows we Teen Titans don't like non-humanoids!" Robin yelled, thowing a bo-staff into our hero's face. "I mean, look at us!"

"We bash on half-spiders, moths, tofu, and robots, and never befriend any of them! Boo Yah!" Cyborg yelled, blasting our hero with his blaster, proving once more that the teen titans really don't need Cyborg, since Starfire can shoot blaster bolts as well, and is stronger than Cyborg, and can fly, and is female. Cyborg is just a weaker version of our good friend Starfire. The only reason he was even inducted into the Teen Titans is because of his pleasant personality, which is also extremely unstable, since one little battery fallin off of him can knock him out like that. This is all to say that, simply, you don't need two blaster characters on a superhero team when one can fly, but one can't, and when one is Oo-lah-lah, and one is... ugh. ANyway, back to our action-filled story!

"ANd we need to kick the butt!" The ever-stunning Starfire, who is much more superior to Cyborg in every way as was stated in the prior paragraph, said, as she blasted Cockroachbumpedfeatheryman with her blaster bolts.

"And everyone knows whoever created our TV show for some reason has to make sure we get exactly equal screen time in a fight, You know I'm gonna do something epic." Raven said, splitting Cockroachbumpedfeatheryman into Olaf the Bald, a lump of flesh, a pillow, and a cockroach. The four parts to the once-superhero fell to the roof-tops. The Teen Titans ran up to them.

"Oh, you poor VIking!" Starfire fawned, totally cheating on Robin right in front of him. "Wasn't it horribly simple to be trapping in that disgusted insect?"

Will Olaf...

A. Say, "Yes, Hot Stuff, it was horrible. Wanna Make-Out?"

B. Forget the pick-up line and just kiss her.

C. Do B, but with Raven.

D. Beat on every single one of them, run, and swear revenge on them for ruining his cool superheroness.

E. Commit Suicide.

F. Touch the blue orb.

G. Start crying.

H. Buttadance.

I. Lick something to make it better.

J. Kiss both of the girls.

K. Go hang out with the rock-solid Terra.

L. Kiss the girl mentioned in K.

M. DON'T PICK THIS ONE! IT'S THE THIRTEENTH CHOICE! IT'S UNLUCKY!

N. Wonder why there are so many choices this time.

O. Kill the president.

P. Jump into the portal that randomly appeared next to him.

Q. Buttadance.

R. "I ain't the sharpest tool in the shed"

S. Wait, the one above wasn't even a choice, It was a quote!

T. This is what I get for trying to go from A-Z with choices.

U. Complain about how stupid Olaf is.

V.Buttadance

W. Kill Bill Gates.

X. Eat a mango.

Y. Poop out a phone bill.

Z. I think I forgot that I'm suppsed to be following a somewhat coherent storyline...

YOU MUST ONLY PICK ONE! IF YOU PICK ALL OF THE ABOVE, LIKE WHAT FIREY DID ONE DAY 1, THEN IT DOESN"T COUNT.

I'm back, BABY!

Olaf the BAAAAALD!

Emo Post #9

You know, this wouldn't be so bad if I knew how to yodel.

YodelAAAAAAAYYYOOOOO!!!!!

Doo doo doo doo...

Yeah.

The best part about this whole thing is that ... oh wait, gnawing my leg off isn't a good thing.

No, the best part was ... No, losing my entire stock portfolio to Erik the Noisy is a good thing, either.

I GOT IT! The best part about this whole thing was when Douba Stuft teh Rapper (no misspellings in his name) rapped about my strike! Bust it!

Olaf Strike

by the Viking Douba Stuft teh Rapper

He's on strike

cuz no one reads his blog,

could be a fike

or a very big hog!

Cutting hisself both day and night

staring at the screen miserably

dancing through the flowers with a kite

something else that rhymes with 'miserably!'

Yeah

Yeah

WHat WHat

Word Shizzle.

So as you can see, Douba Stuft is not a good rapper at all. But Rasputin the Healer IS a good person to go to after your ears have been shredded!

Someone, ANYone, PLEASE go to this post and VOTE!

Olaf the BAAAAAALD!

Still on Strike

You know, if I had a picket for every person who didn't read my blog, I've have over six billion pickets. And with those six billion pickets, I could make a huge picket sign. And with that picket sign, I could write on it, in huge, block letter, "I'm On Strike, Read my Blog." And then everyone could see it becuase it would be so huge. And then everyone would come up to me and say, "Hey, you have a blog? What's the address?" So I'd wait another day, six billion more pickets would pop up, and I'd make another sign that reads, "By The Way, My Blog Is vikingranting.blogspot.com." And then all six billion people would come up to me AGAIN and say, "Oh. Thanks." And then every single person in the entire world would check out my blog, and about half of the people would be able to read it, abother half of that people would like it, about another half would ever check it again, another half would remember it once every month, another half would read it every week, and the last half would read it every day. So, let me do some math... 6 ... 3 ... 1.5 ... .75 ... .375 ... .1875 ... .09375. So, .09375 Billion people would read my blog everyday, which would cause quite a fanbase to occur. I'd be the most-read blogger in the world. And then EVERYONE would know the name Olaf the Bald. And then EVERYONE would love me. Or, at least, 93,750,000 would.

You wanna know why I did another emo rant today?

Go here to read yesterdays post.

Go here to read the post I want at least one person to comment on so I can get out of my Self Depression and stop KNOCKING MYSELF OUT WITH MY NUN-CHUCKS AT NIGHT!

Olaf the Bald. No 'BAAAAALD!' today, since I don't feel like shouting.

PS Tis my eighth Emo or Partial-Emo post EVER!

Adventure on hold

So, no one's voted yet. So I'm on strike until someone votes for a new choice that I, Cockroachbumpedfeatheryman, the superhero formerly known as Olaf the Bald, can do. If you want to know what I'm talking about, go to the previous post.

Olaf the BAAAAALD!

Choose Olaf's (My) Own Adventure part 2

Ok, with one vote from yesterday, with an answer that wasn't even on the list, here we go, with yet another feeling of futility creeping over me:



Olaf began singing All Star, but was promptly cut off as he ate his pillow and smashed the Cockroach next to him. The pillow caused him to choke, making him retching loudly. His neighbor, Omar the Bold, threw a clock at him because of the retching, clonking him in the head. Olaf had had a cut on his hand, and the cockroach's guts seeped into it.

When Olaf woke up after being healed by Rasputin the Healer, he had grown a shell, feathers, and a large bump on the head. Olaf knew what he must do. He must become .... 'Cockroachbumpedfeatheryman.'

Cockroachbumpedfeatheryman gave Gregory the Hairy his one minute notice and ... somehow ... flew off the Bloodhound.

Does the superhero known as Cockroachbumpedfeatheryman, formerly known as Olaf the Bald ...

A. Go to Gotham City.

B. Go to whatever city the Teen Titans live in.

C. Go to New Orleans

D. Go to Genosha

E. Go to Urbia

F. Go into that portal that randomly appeared next to him.

Olaf the BAAAAALD!

Fifty-One (Choose your own adventure part 1)

Oh, how far shall I go with this blog? I've posted fifty-one days out of fifty-two, managed to come up with something SOMEWHAT funny everyday (except for the 'Origin of my Origin' post, I think it was... April 2008), AND all to less than ten readers, nine of whom I think read once every month. So my question is: Who am I doing this for?

Anyone got any answers? Cause I don't.

Quite simply, If I'm doing it for myself, than I'm a moron, because I lose sleep the days I forget and have to do a quick midnighy posting just so its on time. And if I'm doing it for the readers, well, I'm sure all one of you could be reading or doing something better.

My sweat and labor has gone into this project, and I have nothing to show for it.

But you know what?

I'm going to keep doing this day in and day out, even if over the next summer I miss most of the days. You know why? Because I like blogging. Because I like putting smiles on someone's face, EVEN IF I don't get much recognition. And because of ALL this, I'm going to try something new.

Here's my idea: I post a choose your own adventure over the next week. I do whatever it is you tell me to do, and whoever votes the most wins. Savvy? I guess so.

Olaf wakes up in the morning and stares up at the ceiling. Does he:

A. Get up.

B. Squash the Cockroach on the wall next to him.

C. Start singing 'All Star' by Smash Mouth.

D. Eat his pillow.

I hope you enjoy the next week.

Olaf the BAAAAALD!

Worst... day... EVER! Wait, nev mind.

Ok. This is what happened today.

My crew and I went on a campin' trip. The only reason we did is because SOMEONE, SOMEONE had to crash the boat into Gooses Demise. Gooses Demise is an island protected by a buncha geese, named by someone who didn't know that the plural of 'Goose' was 'Geese.' Anyway, the person who crashed our BOAT was definitely not me.

Hold on, I have to do some dishes.

He totally did. A note from Omar the Bold.

I'm going to ignore that magical paragraph that magically appeared above the one I'm writing now; mother DID always tell me to do that. Anyway, whilst Franky the Shipwright tried to fix the Bloodhound, we set up some tents and tried to sleep. Around midnight, I heard shouts coming from a short distance away. Grumbling, I grabbed my Nun-Chucks and stomped off toward the noise, fully intending to kill whoever it was.

I saw lights ahead. Suddenly, a shrimp came running up and punched me in the whozits. "You're IT!" Shrimpy yelled, turning and sprinting off to who knows where. After I got up from rolling around on the ground in pain for five minutes, I looked around me. To my surprise, I was in a camping ground! As I looked around, I saw members of every class present, including the wannabe classes, like astronauts and cowboys. Pirates and Ninjas were BBQing together, Clowns were telling jokes to a large bunch of robots, and Dentists were refraining from doing anything to anyone's teeth. I didn't understand, since it's always been in the legends that there was only one place where all the classes could come together: Last Haven. Looking around, I saw a sign: 'Welcome to Last Haven Camping Ground!"

Figures.

Since everyone in my crew was mad at me for some reason, I decided NOT to tell them about this place and struck up a conversation with a Pirate. The pirate claimed that he was Jack Sparrow, but I immediately corrected him by reminding him that he wasn't Jack Sparrow, he was 'Captain Jack Sparrow.'

'Ya got me,' the pirate said. 'I'm Mas. teh Pirate."

Moving my sleeping bag next to the camp ground, Mas and I vowed we would 'borrow' some of his pirate clan's ships and have a war over them. Early the next morning, we jumped on the boats and went off. After we reached the center of the lake, we decided that it was a good place to duel. Pulling out my metal Nun-Chucks, I began to viciously smack and attack Mas, while Mas blocked with his sword. Suddenly, Mas rammed me with his elbow, and I fell off my boat and hit the water.

Despite the fact that I CAN swim, I'm not very good at it. So when I hit the water, I panicked. Flailing around wildly and grabbing onto the edge, Mas helped me back up onto the boat. I asked, "Where are my Nun-Chucks?"

"You had em when you went over!" Mas replied. That's when I knew. They were sunk forever.

I was inconsolable. I vowed to kill Mas one day, and went wearily back to the crew, who had finally got the boat up and running. When everyone discovered I had lost the Nun-Chucks that I had stolen from that Ninja, they laughed and laughed and laughed until I killed one of them in a fit of anger. They then decided to pick on me one noche less.

Pulling into Urbia, I was depressed. It was back to a single Ax; no longer would I be able to use my Wildanceamancer NunChuck/Ax combo ever again.

It was the worst day EVER.

But then, I got an idea. I could make my own!

Running into the woods, I quickly gathered everything I need, and soon, I was done making them! I had made solid, sturdy wooden Nun-Chucks without any prior knowledge on how! If I had been a video game character, I would have gained a level in Craft.

DING!

Oops, I just did.

Anyway, so its not the worst day ever anymore.

Happy 50th!

Olaf the BAAAAALD!