I was in a terrible mood yesterday, so that explains the whole, 'That's How I feel' post yesterday, so I apologize for the incident yesterday, and I would have done it yesterday, but I felt too much like crap yesterday.
BING BING BING! I just set a world record for saying the word 'Yesterday' correctly in a sentence more times than ANY ONE ELSE EVER! Five, count 'em, five.
Anyway, Why was I feeling so down in the toilet yesterday? Well I'll tell you.
I have learned during this soccer season so far that I am way better than everyone on the MIS team (Man I Stink Team.) However, I am way worse than everyone on the TAT team (Totally awesome team.) AND, I've also learned that the coach for TAT wants me to play a lot for the MIS team, and that he wants me to attend the TAT games to support the team I merely practice with.
SO, the MIS game started. I was starting on defense, doin' perfect, when BLAMMO! My compatriots let a goal in. "WE CAN KICK IT TO EM STILL!" I yelled. The Ninjas on the other team laughed. My Viking teammates crumbled.
We lost 9 to Negative one. How did we achieve such a dismal score, you ask? Well, my glorious teammate Ivan the Infuriated punched one of the Ninjas in the mouth, giving himself a red card for sixteen games and giving an automatic point to Team Ninja. It was terrible.
For the next two hours, I sat on the bench with the TAT team, watching all the non-benchers kick butt. We... I mean They, won 14-1. And though I can go around telling you and everyone else how I won, I didn't. I watched them win.
If I don't contribute in any way, shape, or form, I don't feel like I should call it a win.
It's been so long since I have.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Monday, August 24, 2009
All posts, GATHER!
Noobs of Double-Fisted Flowerbutt wear hammers. Edition Profuse: Carrots, headrests, destroyed workers barf bane. Metal Penguins kill Joe.
Explorering rum girls fable potential. Cancer dates upperclassmen leeches FOREVER!
eBay spitting. Stoppit! Urban GPSs stab fish money with feminizer supervillians. Almost, stapler, anti-viking Cosgrove bored of Ninjas.
Cockroach Slyleaf Chompsky BBQing sweat clock for pickets. Miserably out-classed, demon levels crack-headed Urgur when Hagar circles NIGHTMARES!
Unicorn Salemen cried down Laotogo right.
No raft, JOY Dwarves master hunting action. Awkward...
Doge revolution happened somwhere, Brootar. Hatred loved flaming skirts after fart Eighth tears.
Stungun pipes turn magic ribbit ships from Urbia, Unsophisticated hundred bulls got no style.
Barney Hearts Beauty!
File stopped exciting Monkey rock.
Pie dating contestant Knight now; Blood alive! Awesome fish-sticks failed yet something rescheduled braces. We needed Ninjas today. Again, I is keeping comedy impossibly Trilby.
Man, Snickers lied, obviously. Stupid Amazons copied my non-prejudiced Waiters. Why?
aYUP. Writing both song ex
Olaf.
The.
BAAAAALD!
Explorering rum girls fable potential. Cancer dates upperclassmen leeches FOREVER!
eBay spitting. Stoppit! Urban GPSs stab fish money with feminizer supervillians. Almost, stapler, anti-viking Cosgrove bored of Ninjas.
Cockroach Slyleaf Chompsky BBQing sweat clock for pickets. Miserably out-classed, demon levels crack-headed Urgur when Hagar circles NIGHTMARES!
Unicorn Salemen cried down Laotogo right.
No raft, JOY Dwarves master hunting action. Awkward...
Doge revolution happened somwhere, Brootar. Hatred loved flaming skirts after fart Eighth tears.
Stungun pipes turn magic ribbit ships from Urbia, Unsophisticated hundred bulls got no style.
Barney Hearts Beauty!
File stopped exciting Monkey rock.
Pie dating contestant Knight now; Blood alive! Awesome fish-sticks failed yet something rescheduled braces. We needed Ninjas today. Again, I is keeping comedy impossibly Trilby.
Man, Snickers lied, obviously. Stupid Amazons copied my non-prejudiced Waiters. Why?
aYUP. Writing both song ex
Olaf.
The.
BAAAAALD!
Sunday, August 23, 2009
The Quest
Gregory the Hairy called my Posse and I to his captain's room yesterday and informed us that the Bloodhound II hasn't been keeping up with its Questing Quota. Therefore, we needed to go on a quest.
"What is the nature of this Quest?" Soren the Hard-of-Hearing Scribe intoned.
"I don't know!" Gregory snapped. "Just go on on already!"
Like all good quests, we needed a purpose, despite the strange misgivings of our chieftain. Not entirely sure why we embarked on this particular quest, but we decided to go and destroy a huge Goblin family, one that had been giving us some trouble recently.
We then needed to classify what classes we were, since, for all questers, there needs to be obvious class differences for some, none for others. After much arguing, it was decided:
Erik the Noisy: Fighter
Omar the Bold: Fighter
Lulu the Loud: Fighter
George the Yellow: Fighter
Phil the Conceited: Fighter
Soren: Mage
Me: Bard
With our classes evenly distributed, with many different ones to complement any task we might need to do, we set out.
We first went throught the Mines of Airom to meet with a wizened old Uncle Sam, who had the key to what we needed to do to destroy the Goblin Family.
"Their Ruler is connected by an object of magical prowess; if it is cast into the Waters of Lake Fun-Fun, it will be destroyed, and the entire goblin family will fall."
"What is the object?" Soren inquired.
"A magic saltine cracker," Uncle Sam replied.
It was then that we were attacked by a massive black creature, made entirely out of water. It was a Gefsot, and it chased us across a rickety chained bridge that led to the outside world. Soren sacrificed himself to give us enough time to escape, and we did, to his death. Uncle Sam then summoned a large group of feathers, which nearly killed us, and when we got out of the feathery mess, Uncle Sam was gone.
Our trip took us into the heart of Hobbit lands, where we consulted with their wise, feminine leader, whose name was Penelope. After we discussed with Penelope on where the Head Goblin's Saltine cracker was, which, we learned, was located in the highest points of heck, Erik the Noisy became captivated by her charms, and much making out commenced. Lulu the Loud, enraged by the site, killed the Hobbit Ruler dead, and we had to escape in order to keep our hides from being killed by the angry Hobbit masses. Sadly, Erik died protecting us from the Hobbits.
It was then that Soren caught up with us, claiming that he had defeated the Gefsot without any sort of trouble. He also wanted us to start calling him Soren the White from then on, but we refrained, instead continuing to call him Soren the Hard-of-Hearing Scribe. I especially refused; I hate the color white.
Customary to most quests, it was decided that one of us must be a traitor. After much deliberation and back-stabbing, the lot feull upon Omar, who claimed his innocence. After we killed him anyway, it was discovered that the traitor was Uncle Sam, who had been the one telling the hobbits of our location the whole time. We were captured, and dragged all the way back to Hobbit lands. It was then that Uncle Sam freed us, and using some fancy manuvering, got us free. He then gave Phil an Ancient sword, telling him that its name was Sadboom, and that its name really didn't matter to the plot, anyhow. Uncle Sam disappeared once more.
We received a report shortly thereafter that the Saltine Crakcer had been spotted at a local port, in the hands of an unsuspecting Drow. Having pursued and found the Drow, he gave battle with us. We were soon shortly beaten, with one of our number dying. It was discovered that Uncle Sam had caught up with us again, and had taken the blow. After we exchanged goods for the saltine cracker, the Drow disappeared.
All that remained was the taking of the Saltine Cracker to Lake Fun-Fun. Thousands of miles of desert faced us, however. The desert was full of dangers, the most common of which being gigantic worms that would swallow anyone or thing alive, should they hear anything move on the surface. There was only one thing to do.
We turned around and walked the other way.
After walking a thousand miles to the edge of Lake Fun-Fun, we discovered that an evil human king was waging war on the peoples of the south, who were all gathered together in the stronghold of the Cow-People. We decided to give them what for, and were soundly trounced. We were seperated, with Me, and Lulu hangin' with the Cow People, and George, Phil, and Soren hangin' with the everyone else. Soren was in posession of the Saltine Cracker, and he and his forces of Monkey, Rat, and Pig people were being pushed away from the lake. It became too much for George, however, and he was left in a major city, never to be heard of again. As I led the Cow-People through enemy lines to reunite with the rest of the South, Soren discussed a magic force capability with the leader of the Monkey people. Apparently, if you could gather all seven of the Brownie Ball Zs and gather them together in one place, your wish woud be granted.
Soren contacted the three of us at the other end by means of Pigeon, telling us to go and gather the Brownie Ball Zs. We left the Cow-People in charge of Uncle Sam, who, as it turned out, had never died, and had been following us in the garb of a very attractive Female Panda. When I discovered that the female Panda did not exist, I set out on a side quest to discover my true love, while Lulu forged on with her searching of the Brownie Ball Zs on her own. Soren and Phil soon had alll of the peoples of the South reunited, but Phil didn't care, which had split the peoples of the south into four factions, which all soon killed each other off. The evil King turned out to be named Tryanicus, who had, in turn, turned out to be the one who REALLY cuased the four peoples of the south to kill each other. Soren and Phil tried to engage the evil King in a duel, but the King killed Phil, as he was too powerful to beat. Soren discovered, in the battle, that Tyranicus' power came from stolen Dragon's Hearts, and was sucking the energy out of them in order to give himself unstoppable power. Soren escaped, and tried to contact me or Lulu.
I had found my real love, whose name was Rynalredtywreckagal, (Who I called R2-D2 for short) and was now having great make-out sessions with her while trying to find Lulu. Lulu had found six of the seven Brownie Ball Zs, and was now tracking down Uncle Sam, who was rumored to have fled with one during the insurrection of the fours peoples of the south. R2 and I caught up with Uncle Sam, who, in turn, gave battle with us. After we were all sorely defeated, and R2 was killed, he revealed himself to be none other than Thor!
Gladly giving us the last Brownie Ball Z, we reunited with Soren. Thor told us that we needed to pick one person so that the great Chef of the Sky would know which of us's wish to grant. After much deliberation, in which I clonked both of my comrades out, I summoned the Chef.
The Chef read my thoughts and summoned my ultimate wish: a life-size, reincarnated R2, whose body had been turned into Pie! COnfused by this transformation, however, R2 left me for a cake, and, heartbroken, I took the Saltine Cracker and threw myself into Lake Fun-FUn. The Goblin armies died, but I didn't, considering how the waters of Lake Fun-Fun weren't that deep. As the Goblin armies exploded and died, I, Lulu, and Soren were carried off to Rodnog by Eagles, where we discovered that the people had discovered Seven more Brownie Ball Zs. I quickly gave them to Lulu, summoning the Great Chef, who read her thoughts and gave her he wish:
That the whole thing had simply been a daydream, in my mind.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
"What is the nature of this Quest?" Soren the Hard-of-Hearing Scribe intoned.
"I don't know!" Gregory snapped. "Just go on on already!"
Like all good quests, we needed a purpose, despite the strange misgivings of our chieftain. Not entirely sure why we embarked on this particular quest, but we decided to go and destroy a huge Goblin family, one that had been giving us some trouble recently.
We then needed to classify what classes we were, since, for all questers, there needs to be obvious class differences for some, none for others. After much arguing, it was decided:
Erik the Noisy: Fighter
Omar the Bold: Fighter
Lulu the Loud: Fighter
George the Yellow: Fighter
Phil the Conceited: Fighter
Soren: Mage
Me: Bard
With our classes evenly distributed, with many different ones to complement any task we might need to do, we set out.
We first went throught the Mines of Airom to meet with a wizened old Uncle Sam, who had the key to what we needed to do to destroy the Goblin Family.
"Their Ruler is connected by an object of magical prowess; if it is cast into the Waters of Lake Fun-Fun, it will be destroyed, and the entire goblin family will fall."
"What is the object?" Soren inquired.
"A magic saltine cracker," Uncle Sam replied.
It was then that we were attacked by a massive black creature, made entirely out of water. It was a Gefsot, and it chased us across a rickety chained bridge that led to the outside world. Soren sacrificed himself to give us enough time to escape, and we did, to his death. Uncle Sam then summoned a large group of feathers, which nearly killed us, and when we got out of the feathery mess, Uncle Sam was gone.
Our trip took us into the heart of Hobbit lands, where we consulted with their wise, feminine leader, whose name was Penelope. After we discussed with Penelope on where the Head Goblin's Saltine cracker was, which, we learned, was located in the highest points of heck, Erik the Noisy became captivated by her charms, and much making out commenced. Lulu the Loud, enraged by the site, killed the Hobbit Ruler dead, and we had to escape in order to keep our hides from being killed by the angry Hobbit masses. Sadly, Erik died protecting us from the Hobbits.
It was then that Soren caught up with us, claiming that he had defeated the Gefsot without any sort of trouble. He also wanted us to start calling him Soren the White from then on, but we refrained, instead continuing to call him Soren the Hard-of-Hearing Scribe. I especially refused; I hate the color white.
Customary to most quests, it was decided that one of us must be a traitor. After much deliberation and back-stabbing, the lot feull upon Omar, who claimed his innocence. After we killed him anyway, it was discovered that the traitor was Uncle Sam, who had been the one telling the hobbits of our location the whole time. We were captured, and dragged all the way back to Hobbit lands. It was then that Uncle Sam freed us, and using some fancy manuvering, got us free. He then gave Phil an Ancient sword, telling him that its name was Sadboom, and that its name really didn't matter to the plot, anyhow. Uncle Sam disappeared once more.
We received a report shortly thereafter that the Saltine Crakcer had been spotted at a local port, in the hands of an unsuspecting Drow. Having pursued and found the Drow, he gave battle with us. We were soon shortly beaten, with one of our number dying. It was discovered that Uncle Sam had caught up with us again, and had taken the blow. After we exchanged goods for the saltine cracker, the Drow disappeared.
All that remained was the taking of the Saltine Cracker to Lake Fun-Fun. Thousands of miles of desert faced us, however. The desert was full of dangers, the most common of which being gigantic worms that would swallow anyone or thing alive, should they hear anything move on the surface. There was only one thing to do.
We turned around and walked the other way.
After walking a thousand miles to the edge of Lake Fun-Fun, we discovered that an evil human king was waging war on the peoples of the south, who were all gathered together in the stronghold of the Cow-People. We decided to give them what for, and were soundly trounced. We were seperated, with Me, and Lulu hangin' with the Cow People, and George, Phil, and Soren hangin' with the everyone else. Soren was in posession of the Saltine Cracker, and he and his forces of Monkey, Rat, and Pig people were being pushed away from the lake. It became too much for George, however, and he was left in a major city, never to be heard of again. As I led the Cow-People through enemy lines to reunite with the rest of the South, Soren discussed a magic force capability with the leader of the Monkey people. Apparently, if you could gather all seven of the Brownie Ball Zs and gather them together in one place, your wish woud be granted.
Soren contacted the three of us at the other end by means of Pigeon, telling us to go and gather the Brownie Ball Zs. We left the Cow-People in charge of Uncle Sam, who, as it turned out, had never died, and had been following us in the garb of a very attractive Female Panda. When I discovered that the female Panda did not exist, I set out on a side quest to discover my true love, while Lulu forged on with her searching of the Brownie Ball Zs on her own. Soren and Phil soon had alll of the peoples of the South reunited, but Phil didn't care, which had split the peoples of the south into four factions, which all soon killed each other off. The evil King turned out to be named Tryanicus, who had, in turn, turned out to be the one who REALLY cuased the four peoples of the south to kill each other. Soren and Phil tried to engage the evil King in a duel, but the King killed Phil, as he was too powerful to beat. Soren discovered, in the battle, that Tyranicus' power came from stolen Dragon's Hearts, and was sucking the energy out of them in order to give himself unstoppable power. Soren escaped, and tried to contact me or Lulu.
I had found my real love, whose name was Rynalredtywreckagal, (Who I called R2-D2 for short) and was now having great make-out sessions with her while trying to find Lulu. Lulu had found six of the seven Brownie Ball Zs, and was now tracking down Uncle Sam, who was rumored to have fled with one during the insurrection of the fours peoples of the south. R2 and I caught up with Uncle Sam, who, in turn, gave battle with us. After we were all sorely defeated, and R2 was killed, he revealed himself to be none other than Thor!
Gladly giving us the last Brownie Ball Z, we reunited with Soren. Thor told us that we needed to pick one person so that the great Chef of the Sky would know which of us's wish to grant. After much deliberation, in which I clonked both of my comrades out, I summoned the Chef.
The Chef read my thoughts and summoned my ultimate wish: a life-size, reincarnated R2, whose body had been turned into Pie! COnfused by this transformation, however, R2 left me for a cake, and, heartbroken, I took the Saltine Cracker and threw myself into Lake Fun-FUn. The Goblin armies died, but I didn't, considering how the waters of Lake Fun-Fun weren't that deep. As the Goblin armies exploded and died, I, Lulu, and Soren were carried off to Rodnog by Eagles, where we discovered that the people had discovered Seven more Brownie Ball Zs. I quickly gave them to Lulu, summoning the Great Chef, who read her thoughts and gave her he wish:
That the whole thing had simply been a daydream, in my mind.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Battle Cries
Sometimes, when you leap into battle, you just gotta scream a battle cry. You all know my customary one, which is what I always scream at the end of my posts. But, sometimes, just screaming your name doesn't cut it. You gotta scream something else.
Here are some effective battle cries you should learn, memorize, and use:
CHIIIIIIIICKEN TEEEEEEEEENDEEEEEEEERS!
Wait, before I go on, why? Why would you shout chicken tenders? Its simple; if your fighting someone, and they shout, "I like puppies," It's going to make you stop and think, Why does he like puppies? And then, you have your face fulla fist.
IIIIIIIIIIIII LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIKE PUPPIES!
BILL COSBY IS FUNNYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!
CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIG CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN"T BIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITE!
You know, random stuff, something like that. I think this describes it best, though.
But the best Battle Cry of all time is one word, not drawn out, yelled, or screamed. It my Chieftain, Gregory the Hairy's battle cry. I know it works, too.
The best example I can think of is when his crew, me included, drove his ship, the Bloodhound II, right into the middle of a ferocious battle between a buncha Ninjas, Dentists, Waiters, and Leprechauns. They were blocking our passage, so Gregory shouted, "EVERYONE BELOW DECK, NOW!" Everyone ignored him. Gregory strode to the front of the boat and roared, "ALL RIGHT, YOU WILLY-WIVERED BUNCHA CONRN-COBBED PANSIES!" Gregory is VERY good at insults, by the way. "IF YOU DO NOT GET OUT OF MY WAY, I WILL KILL YOU ALL SINGLE-HANDEDLY!"
The Ninjas, Dentists, Waiters, and Leprechauns all looked at each other and grinned. A common, egotistical enemy! What fun! they all thought. WIth a savage roar, they stormed the boat. Before they could touch it, however, Gregory opened his mouth and uttered his battlecry.
"Chitlins," he said.
All the attacking attackers stopped.
"Chitlins?" a Ninja said.
"That's what he said," a Leprechaun said.
"How odd," a Dentists said.
"Indubitably so," a Waiter intoned. "Let us contemplate this quandry for a few seconds more."
Meanwhile, Gregory was bashing the heads in of every single one of them. Soon, his hammer was bloody, and the stack o' bodies piled around him was high.
"Let's go," he sighed.
We left.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Here are some effective battle cries you should learn, memorize, and use:
CHIIIIIIIICKEN TEEEEEEEEENDEEEEEEEERS!
Wait, before I go on, why? Why would you shout chicken tenders? Its simple; if your fighting someone, and they shout, "I like puppies," It's going to make you stop and think, Why does he like puppies? And then, you have your face fulla fist.
IIIIIIIIIIIII LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIKE PUPPIES!
BILL COSBY IS FUNNYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!
CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIG CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN"T BIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITE!
You know, random stuff, something like that. I think this describes it best, though.
But the best Battle Cry of all time is one word, not drawn out, yelled, or screamed. It my Chieftain, Gregory the Hairy's battle cry. I know it works, too.
The best example I can think of is when his crew, me included, drove his ship, the Bloodhound II, right into the middle of a ferocious battle between a buncha Ninjas, Dentists, Waiters, and Leprechauns. They were blocking our passage, so Gregory shouted, "EVERYONE BELOW DECK, NOW!" Everyone ignored him. Gregory strode to the front of the boat and roared, "ALL RIGHT, YOU WILLY-WIVERED BUNCHA CONRN-COBBED PANSIES!" Gregory is VERY good at insults, by the way. "IF YOU DO NOT GET OUT OF MY WAY, I WILL KILL YOU ALL SINGLE-HANDEDLY!"
The Ninjas, Dentists, Waiters, and Leprechauns all looked at each other and grinned. A common, egotistical enemy! What fun! they all thought. WIth a savage roar, they stormed the boat. Before they could touch it, however, Gregory opened his mouth and uttered his battlecry.
"Chitlins," he said.
All the attacking attackers stopped.
"Chitlins?" a Ninja said.
"That's what he said," a Leprechaun said.
"How odd," a Dentists said.
"Indubitably so," a Waiter intoned. "Let us contemplate this quandry for a few seconds more."
Meanwhile, Gregory was bashing the heads in of every single one of them. Soon, his hammer was bloody, and the stack o' bodies piled around him was high.
"Let's go," he sighed.
We left.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Friday, August 21, 2009
Burritos in the Nose
It was Viking Volleyball on the Bloodhound II yesterday. Everyone gathered together on the poop deck* and began to play. Since there is SO many people on the crew, most everyone was just taking turns.
I had just come back from soccer practice, so I was beat. I came on the boat a good twenty minutes after everyone else had started playing, (Its essential to know that I had had time to take a quick shower and freshen up, so I was wearing my trilby and shades), and flopped onto a bench next to Lulu the Loud.
I have this BIG nose, and Lulu has this teeny nose. Remember that now.
Anyway, since I starving because I hadn't eaten since a few hours before practice, I whipped out one of my burritos that I always carry around with me and began to chew. Lulu turned to me and seemed to notice that I was there for the first time.
"Hey, Olaf!" she said. "Can I where your shades?"
"No," I said.
"Can I wear your shades?" she asked.
"Sure!" I said, handing them over to her. She excitedly put them on. They excitedly fell down her too-small nose.
""DANG""!! she ingrammatically cried. "Your nose is HUGE!"
"Hey!" I said. Then I remembered she was right. "Right, right," I said.
While the V-game raged on, Lulu continually tried to keep them on her nose. Her attempts became too much for me, though, and I started to laugh. Uncontrollably.
POP! went the burrito that WAS in my mouth.
ZIP! went the burrito that was now somewhere in my nostril.
"ARGH!" I screamed in pain.
I quickly ran to the bathrom, grabbed the thickest paper towels I could find, and began to frantically try and blow the chunk out. But it was to no avail. I then tried to force the burrito back into my mouth by breathing in. Nope. I then poured an entire bottle of water down my nose. Still nothing. With one last desperate attempt, I blew out. Hard.
POP! the burrito bit that was the size of Rhode Island popped out, in all of its chewed glory. The best part was, I felt much better than I had been feeling. There was only one thing to do.
I told Lulu every single last stinking thing that I had done, in a somewhat mocking, angry manner. She burst into tears.
"WHY DO YOU ALWAYS ACCUSE ME OF STUFF?" she screamed.
"BECAUSE YOU'RE ALWAYS DOING STUFF!" I screamed back.
"WHY CAN'T YOU JUST ACCEPT ME FOR WHO I AM?" she screamed.
"BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT A WATER BUFFALO!" I screamed back.
We shared a high five because we had started cracking up again. It was then that we noticed the volleyball game had stopped playing. and all were staring at us with strange looks on their faces.
I decided to cut my losses the only way I knew how. I KOed her with my Nunchucks and ran overboard.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*That makes playing volleyball even more challenging, since we take the term 'poop deck' seriously.
I had just come back from soccer practice, so I was beat. I came on the boat a good twenty minutes after everyone else had started playing, (Its essential to know that I had had time to take a quick shower and freshen up, so I was wearing my trilby and shades), and flopped onto a bench next to Lulu the Loud.
I have this BIG nose, and Lulu has this teeny nose. Remember that now.
Anyway, since I starving because I hadn't eaten since a few hours before practice, I whipped out one of my burritos that I always carry around with me and began to chew. Lulu turned to me and seemed to notice that I was there for the first time.
"Hey, Olaf!" she said. "Can I where your shades?"
"No," I said.
"Can I wear your shades?" she asked.
"Sure!" I said, handing them over to her. She excitedly put them on. They excitedly fell down her too-small nose.
""DANG""!! she ingrammatically cried. "Your nose is HUGE!"
"Hey!" I said. Then I remembered she was right. "Right, right," I said.
While the V-game raged on, Lulu continually tried to keep them on her nose. Her attempts became too much for me, though, and I started to laugh. Uncontrollably.
POP! went the burrito that WAS in my mouth.
ZIP! went the burrito that was now somewhere in my nostril.
"ARGH!" I screamed in pain.
I quickly ran to the bathrom, grabbed the thickest paper towels I could find, and began to frantically try and blow the chunk out. But it was to no avail. I then tried to force the burrito back into my mouth by breathing in. Nope. I then poured an entire bottle of water down my nose. Still nothing. With one last desperate attempt, I blew out. Hard.
POP! the burrito bit that was the size of Rhode Island popped out, in all of its chewed glory. The best part was, I felt much better than I had been feeling. There was only one thing to do.
I told Lulu every single last stinking thing that I had done, in a somewhat mocking, angry manner. She burst into tears.
"WHY DO YOU ALWAYS ACCUSE ME OF STUFF?" she screamed.
"BECAUSE YOU'RE ALWAYS DOING STUFF!" I screamed back.
"WHY CAN'T YOU JUST ACCEPT ME FOR WHO I AM?" she screamed.
"BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT A WATER BUFFALO!" I screamed back.
We shared a high five because we had started cracking up again. It was then that we noticed the volleyball game had stopped playing. and all were staring at us with strange looks on their faces.
I decided to cut my losses the only way I knew how. I KOed her with my Nunchucks and ran overboard.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*That makes playing volleyball even more challenging, since we take the term 'poop deck' seriously.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Invisible Ink
Let's see, I think we'll start today's post with an ex
Now you'll never know what was REALLY in this post.
And it will haunt you for the rest of your life.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Now you'll never know what was REALLY in this post.
And it will haunt you for the rest of your life.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
I hate this post
Sung to the tune of 'I hate this song' by Secondhand Serenade.
Type with your hands tied, I'm know I'm tired
But I just want to know what you want to know
I'm readerless, but I'm not weak, blog's future's bleak
And my baggy eyes never lie, this blog come from inside
(CHORUS)
Until sunday I'll be writing posts once more
I guess that the others weren't good enough for you
You know that I hate this post
You know that I hate this post because it was written for you
Sometimes I need hugs, but I still feel bugged,
My glossy eyes stare at the computer's screen
I'm in too deep to come back up again
But somehow I can't find the moment you stopped reading.
(CHORUS)
this is becoming a painful experience, it's unfair
But your lack of words, the way that i heard you're not reading
you've locked me in, inside my skin
And the tasteless jokes that filled your yolks are starting to fall in
you've locked me in, inside my skin,
And if sunday's what it takes i have nothing left to give
(CHORUS)
~Olaf the Bald.
Type with your hands tied, I'm know I'm tired
But I just want to know what you want to know
I'm readerless, but I'm not weak, blog's future's bleak
And my baggy eyes never lie, this blog come from inside
(CHORUS)
Until sunday I'll be writing posts once more
I guess that the others weren't good enough for you
You know that I hate this post
You know that I hate this post because it was written for you
Sometimes I need hugs, but I still feel bugged,
My glossy eyes stare at the computer's screen
I'm in too deep to come back up again
But somehow I can't find the moment you stopped reading.
(CHORUS)
this is becoming a painful experience, it's unfair
But your lack of words, the way that i heard you're not reading
you've locked me in, inside my skin
And the tasteless jokes that filled your yolks are starting to fall in
you've locked me in, inside my skin,
And if sunday's what it takes i have nothing left to give
(CHORUS)
~Olaf the Bald.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Dodging
You know what I hate? Dodging things. No, not ME dodging things, Dodging things that dodge ME.
There is nothing more annoying than swinging your nun-chucks at something, and watching it miss. Ninjas are the masters at that. I'll be like, SWING! and they'll be like, WHOOSH! and I'll be like I BETTER BLOCK MY BACKSIDE WITH MY MACHETE! Tis crazy.
But no, the worst part is when you fight the Dire Monkeys of Trall. These guys know how to dodge so well, that its almost an art style. Its been said by audiences that, when watching someone fight a D-MOT, its like watching Dancing with the Stars, only there's one person winning and one person losing, not both people winning/losing together.
For example, I had the privelage of fighting one of these D-MOTs yesterday. It went something like this:
1.) I swing.
2.) They jump back.
3.) I step forward and swing while they jump up into the air and scrabble-scrabble with their little claws on the way down.
4.) I get hit and fall back.
5.) They slide tackle in the shins.
6.)It reminds me of my glory days in soccer.
7.)They turn around as I'm jumping up and punch me in the back.
8.)I fall down again.
9.) They do a victory dance on my spine.
I hate things that dodge. But, not as much as Gravity and Penguins; you don't have to worry about that.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
There is nothing more annoying than swinging your nun-chucks at something, and watching it miss. Ninjas are the masters at that. I'll be like, SWING! and they'll be like, WHOOSH! and I'll be like I BETTER BLOCK MY BACKSIDE WITH MY MACHETE! Tis crazy.
But no, the worst part is when you fight the Dire Monkeys of Trall. These guys know how to dodge so well, that its almost an art style. Its been said by audiences that, when watching someone fight a D-MOT, its like watching Dancing with the Stars, only there's one person winning and one person losing, not both people winning/losing together.
For example, I had the privelage of fighting one of these D-MOTs yesterday. It went something like this:
1.) I swing.
2.) They jump back.
3.) I step forward and swing while they jump up into the air and scrabble-scrabble with their little claws on the way down.
4.) I get hit and fall back.
5.) They slide tackle in the shins.
6.)It reminds me of my glory days in soccer.
7.)They turn around as I'm jumping up and punch me in the back.
8.)I fall down again.
9.) They do a victory dance on my spine.
I hate things that dodge. But, not as much as Gravity and Penguins; you don't have to worry about that.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Monday, August 17, 2009
Special One Hundred and Fiftieth Post!!!!!!
All right! One hundred and Fifty Blog Posts! For this special occasion, I'm going to show you a song I wrote!
'S.E.'
There once was a guy namd Special,
and He had a friend namd Ed,
And their last names were 'Ucation,"
And so they formed...
Special Education!
Special and Ed!
Special Eudcation!
Special Ed!
What amazing song writing talents I have! Right? I got the idea after talking to Omar the Bold for a while! Ciao!
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Novel Update
Y'all know the novel I is woiking on? Well, I've hit a good level of writerin' here.
I have typed up around 38,000 words, written about 50,000, and am aiming for over 100,000 thousand, which is actually longer than teh Foist Harry Potter book.
aYUP.
That's all I can think of saying fo' today. And thank you, FIrey, for posting a comment yesterday. Those comments are the only way I ever know if someone is reading my posts.
SO, have a heart.
Post a comment,
Olaf the BAAAAAALD!
I have typed up around 38,000 words, written about 50,000, and am aiming for over 100,000 thousand, which is actually longer than teh Foist Harry Potter book.
aYUP.
That's all I can think of saying fo' today. And thank you, FIrey, for posting a comment yesterday. Those comments are the only way I ever know if someone is reading my posts.
SO, have a heart.
Post a comment,
Olaf the BAAAAAALD!
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Why? The Pecan Pie?
You know, despite my ever-lovin' love of Pie, there's one bane in the Pie Factor than ruins all.
PECAN. PIES.
I've never really liked nuts of any sort, and the braces I had for a few years really helped resist the temptation, but the worst nut of all time is the Pecan. I swear, the DEVIL eats those things for his breakfast cereal. The DEVIL!
And you know what else? Cheesecake IS a pie. It's in crust, so its a Pie. Same as Pizza.
So its time. I'm going to take out the entire Pecan Industry. Its been my bane for TOO long!
I'm just going to leave this post up until I get down taking it out.
Ok, the deed is done. Its been about five hours since I typed that last sentence. Needless to say, taking out the entire Pecan Industry was wierd.
"I like your dress," I said to it as I escorted it to its seat.
"Why, thank you," The entire Pecan industry said as it sat down. I ran around to the other side of the table and sat down as well.
"Ok, listen, we need to talk," I said. "I hate pecans. Stop putting them in pies. You're giving the rest of the pies a bad name."
"This is why I'm always mad at you!" The entire Pecan Industry cried. "You're always accusing me of things! Like that one time, when I was talking to that dude, and you said I was cheating on you ... Why can't you just accept me for who I am without accusing me all the time?"
"Listen!" I said. "Stop putting Pecans in pies. That's all I ask."
"You selfish pig!" The entire Pecan Industry cried. "Accept me!"
"Stop putting Pecans in pies!" I repeated.
Needless to say, the rest of the date didn't go well. I think that next time, I'm just going to have to blow it up or something.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
PECAN. PIES.
I've never really liked nuts of any sort, and the braces I had for a few years really helped resist the temptation, but the worst nut of all time is the Pecan. I swear, the DEVIL eats those things for his breakfast cereal. The DEVIL!
And you know what else? Cheesecake IS a pie. It's in crust, so its a Pie. Same as Pizza.
So its time. I'm going to take out the entire Pecan Industry. Its been my bane for TOO long!
I'm just going to leave this post up until I get down taking it out.
Ok, the deed is done. Its been about five hours since I typed that last sentence. Needless to say, taking out the entire Pecan Industry was wierd.
"I like your dress," I said to it as I escorted it to its seat.
"Why, thank you," The entire Pecan industry said as it sat down. I ran around to the other side of the table and sat down as well.
"Ok, listen, we need to talk," I said. "I hate pecans. Stop putting them in pies. You're giving the rest of the pies a bad name."
"This is why I'm always mad at you!" The entire Pecan Industry cried. "You're always accusing me of things! Like that one time, when I was talking to that dude, and you said I was cheating on you ... Why can't you just accept me for who I am without accusing me all the time?"
"Listen!" I said. "Stop putting Pecans in pies. That's all I ask."
"You selfish pig!" The entire Pecan Industry cried. "Accept me!"
"Stop putting Pecans in pies!" I repeated.
Needless to say, the rest of the date didn't go well. I think that next time, I'm just going to have to blow it up or something.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Friday, August 14, 2009
Waiters
Man, I love messin' with waiters.
I walked into a fancy restaurant yesterday and sat down. A few minutes later, a waiter walked up.
"May I get you a menu, sir?" The waiter stiffly asked.
"Nope," I said.
"Then do you already know what to order, sir?" The waiter asked.
"Nope," I said. "I can't read, so I'm going to have to ask you to give me what I want."
"But, sir," the Waiter asked. "How will I know what you want?"
"Easy," I said. "You've been trained in this department of waitering for a long time. Just guess. But remember: I am a VERY picky eater."
The waiter nodded, his face still emotionless. "And what would you like to drink?"
"The most alcohol-induced drink you can find," I said. "But please remove the Alcohol- I'm an abstainer."
"How do you suggest I remove the alcohol, sir?" The waiter asked.
"Just suck it out with your teeth." I said. Then, as an afterthought, I said, "Last time I came to a restaurant, I could taste saliva that wasn't mine in my drink. Make sure none of that nasty stuff gets in there, will you?"
The waiter stiffly bowed, and then ran off toward the kitchen.
I chuckled to myself, enjoying my own obnoxiousness.
A few minutes passed, and the waiter came back with a reddish drink. "Here is your Alcoholless Achohol-induced drink, sir," he said. "I strained it with my teeth myself."
"Aw, thanks!" I said. "But I can see your saliva swimming at the top, and since its impossible to completely remove alcohol from a drink, I'm gonna have to ask that it be taken away."
"But sir!" the waiter cried. "This was a 1912 vintage! I can't just... throw it away!"
"Here, I'll do it for you," I said, grabbing the fancy glass and dropping it onto the floor. It shattered into a million pieces. The waiter stood completely still, his jaw tensing ever so slightly.
"There is now wine in my shoes, sir," He grimly said. "There are also glass shards puncturing the skin upon my feet."
"See?" I said. "Alcohol IS bad for you! Same as Caffeine!"
"But Caffeinated Drinks do not come in glasses, sir, they come in cans," the waiter stoically said.
"Have you ever ripped one of those cans up? SHOE-Wee! Those things could stop a zombie army single-handedly! You know what, don't worry about getting me a drink, just bring me the vittles."
"Vittles, sir?" The waiter said weakly.
"Food! Sustenance!" I cried. "I HUNGRY!"
The waiter's eyes widened in fear, and he turned and sprinted back toward the kitchen. As he ran, I noticed a red liquid squirting out of his fancy shoes. I wasn't sure if it was the wine, his blood, or both.
About fifteen minutes passed. The waiter soon came back. His fancy shoes were wrapped with toilet paper, and he was holding a silver platter with one of those domey-thingy things on top.
"Here is your food, sir," He said, taking the domey thingy off of the top of the platter. I beheld a food. I don't even remember what it was, since I wasn't done having my fun.
"WHAT IS THIS?" I screamed, smacking the platter out of the waiter's hands and into his face. "This is not what I ordered!"
"But you didn't order anything, sir," The waiter weakly mumbled. "YOu said you wanted me to guess what you wanted, and bring it out to you.
"LIES!" I shrieked. "I ordered the Lobster! Bring me one! NOW!"
The waiter turned and dejectedly walked back toward the kitchen. I heard him mutter, 'the customer is always right...."
"Wait!" I cried. "I owe you an apology."
The waiter turned, eyes full of hope.
"I am SO sorry that I haven't been helping you complete your job right!" I said. "Here, let me remind you of what you forgot: A drink."
"But I DID bring you a drink, sir," The waiter spluttered. "Its still on the floor."
I looked down, and sure enough, there was the drink.
"LIES!" I shrieked. "That was from some OTHER customer! Retrieve my sparkling water! Make sure there are many Ice cubes within!"
The waiter curtly nodded, then slumped his way back to the kitchen.
A few minutes passed, and the waiter came sadly walking back, holding aloft another sliver platter and a glass. "Here is your sparkling water and lobster, sir," he grumpily said.
"Isn't a waiter creed, "Greet your customers with a smile!"?" I asked.
He grimaced, then placed the stuff on the table. I looked at the glass.
"This is not what I ordered!" I cried.
"You ordered sparkling water, sir," the waiter exasperatedly said, a grimace still being held upon his face. "This is sparklig water."
"I ordered Sparkling water with ICE CUBES," I said. "These are blocks of ice that resemble frozen half-circles. I want cubes."
"AND what would you suggest I do, sir?" The waiter asked.
"Take a knife, and carve them into cubes!" I cried. "Take some initiative, man!"
The waiter groaned, grabbed the glass, and dragged his feet all the way back to the kitchen.
When he came back, each block perfectly carved into a cube, I was vigorously licking the lobster.
"Well, that was good," I said as he placed the glass on the table. "Check please."
"Excuse me?" The waiter asked.
"I'm done," I said. "I want the check."
"But your water! Your lobster!" The waiter shrieked.
"Yeah, I'm good." I said. "Just reuse the lobster."
"But you LICKED it!" The waiter shriked once again.
"So? Dog's tongues are cleaner than humans' tongues, anyway." I said. The waiter gaped.
"Get the flippin' check already!" I cried.
"The waiter turned and fled for the kitchen. I counted for five minutes, and he soon came back, his pallor transformed into a very smug expression.
"Your check, sir," He said, handing me the check. I opened it.
"WHOA!" I cried. "Three hundred smackaroos? What for?"
"Personal charges," The waiter said, a gleam in his eyes. "Among those include ice cube cutting, shoe replacement, and the improper use of toilet paper."
"Wow," I said. "Ok, just give me a minute."
"With pleasure," The waiter said, smugly limping away. I tell exactly what he was thinking: Though this stupid customer has given me H--- since he arrived, I shall be redeemed with the ridiculously large amount of money I am charging him! Ha!
I waited until the waiter had his head turned, then stood up and walked out of the restaurant.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
I walked into a fancy restaurant yesterday and sat down. A few minutes later, a waiter walked up.
"May I get you a menu, sir?" The waiter stiffly asked.
"Nope," I said.
"Then do you already know what to order, sir?" The waiter asked.
"Nope," I said. "I can't read, so I'm going to have to ask you to give me what I want."
"But, sir," the Waiter asked. "How will I know what you want?"
"Easy," I said. "You've been trained in this department of waitering for a long time. Just guess. But remember: I am a VERY picky eater."
The waiter nodded, his face still emotionless. "And what would you like to drink?"
"The most alcohol-induced drink you can find," I said. "But please remove the Alcohol- I'm an abstainer."
"How do you suggest I remove the alcohol, sir?" The waiter asked.
"Just suck it out with your teeth." I said. Then, as an afterthought, I said, "Last time I came to a restaurant, I could taste saliva that wasn't mine in my drink. Make sure none of that nasty stuff gets in there, will you?"
The waiter stiffly bowed, and then ran off toward the kitchen.
I chuckled to myself, enjoying my own obnoxiousness.
A few minutes passed, and the waiter came back with a reddish drink. "Here is your Alcoholless Achohol-induced drink, sir," he said. "I strained it with my teeth myself."
"Aw, thanks!" I said. "But I can see your saliva swimming at the top, and since its impossible to completely remove alcohol from a drink, I'm gonna have to ask that it be taken away."
"But sir!" the waiter cried. "This was a 1912 vintage! I can't just... throw it away!"
"Here, I'll do it for you," I said, grabbing the fancy glass and dropping it onto the floor. It shattered into a million pieces. The waiter stood completely still, his jaw tensing ever so slightly.
"There is now wine in my shoes, sir," He grimly said. "There are also glass shards puncturing the skin upon my feet."
"See?" I said. "Alcohol IS bad for you! Same as Caffeine!"
"But Caffeinated Drinks do not come in glasses, sir, they come in cans," the waiter stoically said.
"Have you ever ripped one of those cans up? SHOE-Wee! Those things could stop a zombie army single-handedly! You know what, don't worry about getting me a drink, just bring me the vittles."
"Vittles, sir?" The waiter said weakly.
"Food! Sustenance!" I cried. "I HUNGRY!"
The waiter's eyes widened in fear, and he turned and sprinted back toward the kitchen. As he ran, I noticed a red liquid squirting out of his fancy shoes. I wasn't sure if it was the wine, his blood, or both.
About fifteen minutes passed. The waiter soon came back. His fancy shoes were wrapped with toilet paper, and he was holding a silver platter with one of those domey-thingy things on top.
"Here is your food, sir," He said, taking the domey thingy off of the top of the platter. I beheld a food. I don't even remember what it was, since I wasn't done having my fun.
"WHAT IS THIS?" I screamed, smacking the platter out of the waiter's hands and into his face. "This is not what I ordered!"
"But you didn't order anything, sir," The waiter weakly mumbled. "YOu said you wanted me to guess what you wanted, and bring it out to you.
"LIES!" I shrieked. "I ordered the Lobster! Bring me one! NOW!"
The waiter turned and dejectedly walked back toward the kitchen. I heard him mutter, 'the customer is always right...."
"Wait!" I cried. "I owe you an apology."
The waiter turned, eyes full of hope.
"I am SO sorry that I haven't been helping you complete your job right!" I said. "Here, let me remind you of what you forgot: A drink."
"But I DID bring you a drink, sir," The waiter spluttered. "Its still on the floor."
I looked down, and sure enough, there was the drink.
"LIES!" I shrieked. "That was from some OTHER customer! Retrieve my sparkling water! Make sure there are many Ice cubes within!"
The waiter curtly nodded, then slumped his way back to the kitchen.
A few minutes passed, and the waiter came sadly walking back, holding aloft another sliver platter and a glass. "Here is your sparkling water and lobster, sir," he grumpily said.
"Isn't a waiter creed, "Greet your customers with a smile!"?" I asked.
He grimaced, then placed the stuff on the table. I looked at the glass.
"This is not what I ordered!" I cried.
"You ordered sparkling water, sir," the waiter exasperatedly said, a grimace still being held upon his face. "This is sparklig water."
"I ordered Sparkling water with ICE CUBES," I said. "These are blocks of ice that resemble frozen half-circles. I want cubes."
"AND what would you suggest I do, sir?" The waiter asked.
"Take a knife, and carve them into cubes!" I cried. "Take some initiative, man!"
The waiter groaned, grabbed the glass, and dragged his feet all the way back to the kitchen.
When he came back, each block perfectly carved into a cube, I was vigorously licking the lobster.
"Well, that was good," I said as he placed the glass on the table. "Check please."
"Excuse me?" The waiter asked.
"I'm done," I said. "I want the check."
"But your water! Your lobster!" The waiter shrieked.
"Yeah, I'm good." I said. "Just reuse the lobster."
"But you LICKED it!" The waiter shriked once again.
"So? Dog's tongues are cleaner than humans' tongues, anyway." I said. The waiter gaped.
"Get the flippin' check already!" I cried.
"The waiter turned and fled for the kitchen. I counted for five minutes, and he soon came back, his pallor transformed into a very smug expression.
"Your check, sir," He said, handing me the check. I opened it.
"WHOA!" I cried. "Three hundred smackaroos? What for?"
"Personal charges," The waiter said, a gleam in his eyes. "Among those include ice cube cutting, shoe replacement, and the improper use of toilet paper."
"Wow," I said. "Ok, just give me a minute."
"With pleasure," The waiter said, smugly limping away. I tell exactly what he was thinking: Though this stupid customer has given me H--- since he arrived, I shall be redeemed with the ridiculously large amount of money I am charging him! Ha!
I waited until the waiter had his head turned, then stood up and walked out of the restaurant.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Class Cops
Not every single class member has problems with the other classes. These non-prejudiced class members are then entitled to join the Class Cops, an elite force that deals with law-breaking class members.
Of course, when they join the Class Cops, there's always a problem: What possible law can we make up so that we can claim that class members broke them? Aftr all, non of the classes are bound by the laws of mere mortals ... though, Barrack Obama is nearing passing that threshold, which might mean we'll have to start following US laws. That guy's got POWER, man!
Anyway, some of the laws enforced by the Class Cops are these:
-You cannot drive your boat over one million miles per hour, since that breaks all natural laws of how earth works.
-You cannot disguise yourself as a fly and annoy mortals by buzzing around them for more than seventy-two hours.
-You cannot pass a bus that has its' stop sign out.
Those are some harsh laws, man! And the Class Cops ALWAYS know when a law is being broken. Its eerie. I mean, I'm typing this from a Class Jail cell, since I just got arrested for violently helping an old lady across the street! I mean, come on! I think, if you walk up next to an old lady, and she says, "Will you help me across the street, young man?" you have every right to help in any way you think is good: My favorite method is kicking her across the street. SHe'll be fine then.
I gotta go make my escape. That Ninja and Dentist standing outside the door don't look too tough.*
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*As I typed that, the Dentist looked into my cell and said, "I'm adding 'Plan of escape from Class Jail' to your charges." I told you these guys knew everything!
Of course, when they join the Class Cops, there's always a problem: What possible law can we make up so that we can claim that class members broke them? Aftr all, non of the classes are bound by the laws of mere mortals ... though, Barrack Obama is nearing passing that threshold, which might mean we'll have to start following US laws. That guy's got POWER, man!
Anyway, some of the laws enforced by the Class Cops are these:
-You cannot drive your boat over one million miles per hour, since that breaks all natural laws of how earth works.
-You cannot disguise yourself as a fly and annoy mortals by buzzing around them for more than seventy-two hours.
-You cannot pass a bus that has its' stop sign out.
Those are some harsh laws, man! And the Class Cops ALWAYS know when a law is being broken. Its eerie. I mean, I'm typing this from a Class Jail cell, since I just got arrested for violently helping an old lady across the street! I mean, come on! I think, if you walk up next to an old lady, and she says, "Will you help me across the street, young man?" you have every right to help in any way you think is good: My favorite method is kicking her across the street. SHe'll be fine then.
I gotta go make my escape. That Ninja and Dentist standing outside the door don't look too tough.*
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*As I typed that, the Dentist looked into my cell and said, "I'm adding 'Plan of escape from Class Jail' to your charges." I told you these guys knew everything!
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Cliffhanger
A few days ago, I was hanging out with my posse.
"So, whaddya wanna do?" I asked.
"Dunno," Omar the Bold said.
"Dunno," George the Yellow said.
"Dunno," Erik the Noisy said.
"Dunno," Lulu the Loud said.
"Dunno," Soren the Hard-of-Hearing Scribe said.
"Talk about me," Phil the Conceited said. Everyone ignored him.
At that exact moment, Chieftain Gregory the Hairy walked in.
"Guys," he said. "There's a problem."
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
"So, whaddya wanna do?" I asked.
"Dunno," Omar the Bold said.
"Dunno," George the Yellow said.
"Dunno," Erik the Noisy said.
"Dunno," Lulu the Loud said.
"Dunno," Soren the Hard-of-Hearing Scribe said.
"Talk about me," Phil the Conceited said. Everyone ignored him.
At that exact moment, Chieftain Gregory the Hairy walked in.
"Guys," he said. "There's a problem."
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Cannons
There's a common misconception that Pirates and not Vikings use cannons on their ships.
Well, its true, Pirates DO use Cannons, but that's because they totally copied us.
See, what happened is, when Pirates were their own little class doing their own little classy thing, and Vikings were rampaging up and down the seas of the world, PIrates watched us and thought, "Gee, our awesomeness could be so much more improved if we copied one of those Viking ideas!"
Another common misconception is that Pirates copied the ship idea first. Nope, it was the cannon idea.
It was actually pretty funny, at first; we Vikings would sit on the decks of our ships and laugh as the land-based Pirates would be desperately trying to drag cannons after their enemies. Trust me, though, chase scenes with Cannon-Lugging Pirates get boring FAST.
It was then that Pirates decided to copy another idea of ours, and mount the cannons on ships. We Vikings ditched the cannons like it was Grandma's house on sunday, because its a major rule in life: If someone is copying the crap out of you, try to be as unlike that person as you can be.
Well, the copycatting Pirates just wouldn't stop. It was then that we decided to strike a deal up with some Ninjas. Sneaking into their main base, our leader made a pact with their leader, hiring them to destroy ALL of the Pirates, just as they had done the Urgur. It explains the constant emnity between them, doesn't it?
Some Viking ships today still use cannons, but once Pirates began wielding guns and crap, we respectfully ditched the idea of ranged weapons. Them Pirate can HAVE 'em.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Well, its true, Pirates DO use Cannons, but that's because they totally copied us.
See, what happened is, when Pirates were their own little class doing their own little classy thing, and Vikings were rampaging up and down the seas of the world, PIrates watched us and thought, "Gee, our awesomeness could be so much more improved if we copied one of those Viking ideas!"
Another common misconception is that Pirates copied the ship idea first. Nope, it was the cannon idea.
It was actually pretty funny, at first; we Vikings would sit on the decks of our ships and laugh as the land-based Pirates would be desperately trying to drag cannons after their enemies. Trust me, though, chase scenes with Cannon-Lugging Pirates get boring FAST.
It was then that Pirates decided to copy another idea of ours, and mount the cannons on ships. We Vikings ditched the cannons like it was Grandma's house on sunday, because its a major rule in life: If someone is copying the crap out of you, try to be as unlike that person as you can be.
Well, the copycatting Pirates just wouldn't stop. It was then that we decided to strike a deal up with some Ninjas. Sneaking into their main base, our leader made a pact with their leader, hiring them to destroy ALL of the Pirates, just as they had done the Urgur. It explains the constant emnity between them, doesn't it?
Some Viking ships today still use cannons, but once Pirates began wielding guns and crap, we respectfully ditched the idea of ranged weapons. Them Pirate can HAVE 'em.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Monday, August 10, 2009
Poll Results: Month 4
Which Minor Class to ascend to be a Major Class?
Amazons: 3
Little Kids: 0.
This poll was sad. Almost NO ONE voted, and only two fans voted, since I voted once.
Polls are off the site until further notice.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Amazons: 3
Little Kids: 0.
This poll was sad. Almost NO ONE voted, and only two fans voted, since I voted once.
Polls are off the site until further notice.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Why I'm Stupid
I was licking the inside of my shoes today when Omar the Bold came in and screamed, "WHY THE HECK ARE YOU SO FREAKING STUPID?"
"What?" I asked. My tongue was still on the shoe when I asked that, so it came out as "Glu?"
"Look at you! You're licking the inside of that shoe!" Omar yelled. "How on earth did you get to be so stupid?"
I drew back my tongue with a sickeningly sqlerpltch and replied, "Well, I'll tell you."
"NO NOSTALGIA! NO NOSTALGIA!" Omar cried, hiding his obvious interest. Luckily for him, he was too late.
When I was in my last few weeks of CVU, I decided, as a Graduation gift to me, to buy me a phone. This purchase was much to Nicholas the Sharkbait's Chagrine, as as you know, Vikings don't use cell phones.
"You need to take that horrid thing back," Nick cried, taking a few steps back. "Its complete pandemonium!"
"What a horrid use of that word," I said. "Anyway, I don't use it for texting calling paging or farting, I use it for a better reason." I lied.
"What reason?" Nick asked suspiciously.
"Um ..." I said the first thing that popped into my head. "It's a great hacky-sack."
"Hacky-Sack?" Nick asked.
"Yes, Hacky-Sack," I replied. Nick wasn't convinced.
"Ok, that makes sense," He said.
"No, really! I'll show you!" I cried.
"I said I believed you!" He cried back.
"SOME FRIEND YOU ARE NOT TO BELIEVE ME!" I yelled. "Ok, here, I'll show you." I tossed the cell phone down on the ground, and began to Hacky-Sack it up and down, down and up.
"Wow, I didn't know cell phones could be used in such a manner!" Nick said.
"'Course it can!" I cried. "Try it!"
Nick took the cell phone, dropped it, and kicked it into a sewer.
"Oops... guess I'm not good at Hacky-Sack," he mumbled.
"HOLY HECK!" I screamed.
"Um, I'm pretty sure that Heck can't be holy at any lev..."
"HOLY HECK!" I screamed.
"Look, you should be saying 'Holy Heav..."
"GET IT!" I screamed.
About thirty minutes later, Nick was despearately trying to left the grate to the sewer without any assistance.
"Darn it," He muttered. "I'm never going to be able to get this off. I think your cellular is done for."
I walked over to the grate and popped it off without any effort.
"Shut up," Nick muttered.
"All right, all you have to do is jump down there and grab it," I said, backing up several hundred feet.
"Why are you backing up?" Nick asked as he jumped in.
"Because everyone knows ...." I said as Nick was thrust out of the open grate by an avalanche of Zombies, alligators, and dead fish pouring out of it. "... those things live in sewers."
As Nick was carried away by the sewer dwellers, I jumped into it, grabbed the cellular, and jumped back out.
"Sweet!" I said.
AT that point, Selena the Foreign and her friends walked by and laughed, saying, "That phone is SO five minutes ago!"
I tossed the phone back into a sewer, where a gnome picked it up and began racking up charges. How I dealt with that problem is another story.
I eventually found Nick five miles away from the grate, being helped along by one of our Fraternity Brothers. Nick had been bitten, and he was now a Zombie.
"Braaaaaaaaiins...." He moaned as he was dragged along by our bro.
"What do we do with him now?" the bro asked. I reached up, opened my skull, pulled out my brain, and handed it to the zombie Nick the Sharkbait.
"I'm a decent person," I said as Nick began to devour it.
As I finished my story, Omar looked at me with a look of utter disgust.
"I hate you SO MUCH." He growled.
"Thanks for the sarcasm, buddy!" I cried.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
"What?" I asked. My tongue was still on the shoe when I asked that, so it came out as "Glu?"
"Look at you! You're licking the inside of that shoe!" Omar yelled. "How on earth did you get to be so stupid?"
I drew back my tongue with a sickeningly sqlerpltch and replied, "Well, I'll tell you."
"NO NOSTALGIA! NO NOSTALGIA!" Omar cried, hiding his obvious interest. Luckily for him, he was too late.
When I was in my last few weeks of CVU, I decided, as a Graduation gift to me, to buy me a phone. This purchase was much to Nicholas the Sharkbait's Chagrine, as as you know, Vikings don't use cell phones.
"You need to take that horrid thing back," Nick cried, taking a few steps back. "Its complete pandemonium!"
"What a horrid use of that word," I said. "Anyway, I don't use it for texting calling paging or farting, I use it for a better reason." I lied.
"What reason?" Nick asked suspiciously.
"Um ..." I said the first thing that popped into my head. "It's a great hacky-sack."
"Hacky-Sack?" Nick asked.
"Yes, Hacky-Sack," I replied. Nick wasn't convinced.
"Ok, that makes sense," He said.
"No, really! I'll show you!" I cried.
"I said I believed you!" He cried back.
"SOME FRIEND YOU ARE NOT TO BELIEVE ME!" I yelled. "Ok, here, I'll show you." I tossed the cell phone down on the ground, and began to Hacky-Sack it up and down, down and up.
"Wow, I didn't know cell phones could be used in such a manner!" Nick said.
"'Course it can!" I cried. "Try it!"
Nick took the cell phone, dropped it, and kicked it into a sewer.
"Oops... guess I'm not good at Hacky-Sack," he mumbled.
"HOLY HECK!" I screamed.
"Um, I'm pretty sure that Heck can't be holy at any lev..."
"HOLY HECK!" I screamed.
"Look, you should be saying 'Holy Heav..."
"GET IT!" I screamed.
About thirty minutes later, Nick was despearately trying to left the grate to the sewer without any assistance.
"Darn it," He muttered. "I'm never going to be able to get this off. I think your cellular is done for."
I walked over to the grate and popped it off without any effort.
"Shut up," Nick muttered.
"All right, all you have to do is jump down there and grab it," I said, backing up several hundred feet.
"Why are you backing up?" Nick asked as he jumped in.
"Because everyone knows ...." I said as Nick was thrust out of the open grate by an avalanche of Zombies, alligators, and dead fish pouring out of it. "... those things live in sewers."
As Nick was carried away by the sewer dwellers, I jumped into it, grabbed the cellular, and jumped back out.
"Sweet!" I said.
AT that point, Selena the Foreign and her friends walked by and laughed, saying, "That phone is SO five minutes ago!"
I tossed the phone back into a sewer, where a gnome picked it up and began racking up charges. How I dealt with that problem is another story.
I eventually found Nick five miles away from the grate, being helped along by one of our Fraternity Brothers. Nick had been bitten, and he was now a Zombie.
"Braaaaaaaaiins...." He moaned as he was dragged along by our bro.
"What do we do with him now?" the bro asked. I reached up, opened my skull, pulled out my brain, and handed it to the zombie Nick the Sharkbait.
"I'm a decent person," I said as Nick began to devour it.
As I finished my story, Omar looked at me with a look of utter disgust.
"I hate you SO MUCH." He growled.
"Thanks for the sarcasm, buddy!" I cried.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Vikinged Movies
So, I heard that the official term for blatantly stealing media from chaps online is called 'Pirating.' And I say: WT&, mate?
It's obviously supposed to be called Vikinged movieing, since Pirates steal all their ways from us. But, the thing is, Pirating or Vikinging shouldn't EVEN exist, because its a cruel and twisted way of stealing from innocent people.
You see, Bards of all sorts are honored by the Vikings, since without them, killing, mauling, stabbing, destroying, and stealing just WOULDN'T BE FUN! And when you Vikinging any Bard's intellectual property, you slowly STEAL THEIR SOUL.
That's bad, by the way.
Welp, that's all I'm gonna preach. I'm kinda busy right now, since I'm trying to figure out how to get some songs of my favorite band off the internet without paying for it.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
It's obviously supposed to be called Vikinged movieing, since Pirates steal all their ways from us. But, the thing is, Pirating or Vikinging shouldn't EVEN exist, because its a cruel and twisted way of stealing from innocent people.
You see, Bards of all sorts are honored by the Vikings, since without them, killing, mauling, stabbing, destroying, and stealing just WOULDN'T BE FUN! And when you Vikinging any Bard's intellectual property, you slowly STEAL THEIR SOUL.
That's bad, by the way.
Welp, that's all I'm gonna preach. I'm kinda busy right now, since I'm trying to figure out how to get some songs of my favorite band off the internet without paying for it.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Friday, August 7, 2009
Viking Soccer Team Update
Well, I made a team.
The reason why I'm not hoopin' and hollering like a banshee is because... I lied to you.
There's TWO teams.
One team is called TAT, Totally Awesome Team. This is where the best Viking soccer players go to play. Only the best can get in, as only the best can play the other class's teams. This is the team I tried out for.
Sadly, the other team is known as MIS, Man I Stink. This is where the Viking players go who aren't that good. They, to put it lightly, aren't that good. Most of the time, when you start playing soccer, you are put on that team, and then work your way up to the next.
I have been on the MIS for the last two years, and I was really hoping to get on TAT. But no, here's what my coaches said:
"Ok, you're too good for MIS, but you're too terrible for TAT, so we're gonna call you a Tweener and you'll jump around like friday's sunday, shish kabob*?"
SO I'm a Tweener. Not good enough to be good, but not bad enough to be bad.
That's bad.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*Shish Kabob is the equivalent to Capisce.
The reason why I'm not hoopin' and hollering like a banshee is because... I lied to you.
There's TWO teams.
One team is called TAT, Totally Awesome Team. This is where the best Viking soccer players go to play. Only the best can get in, as only the best can play the other class's teams. This is the team I tried out for.
Sadly, the other team is known as MIS, Man I Stink. This is where the Viking players go who aren't that good. They, to put it lightly, aren't that good. Most of the time, when you start playing soccer, you are put on that team, and then work your way up to the next.
I have been on the MIS for the last two years, and I was really hoping to get on TAT. But no, here's what my coaches said:
"Ok, you're too good for MIS, but you're too terrible for TAT, so we're gonna call you a Tweener and you'll jump around like friday's sunday, shish kabob*?"
SO I'm a Tweener. Not good enough to be good, but not bad enough to be bad.
That's bad.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*Shish Kabob is the equivalent to Capisce.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Candy
Today, my very best friends who I think are totally awesome and I were all discussing the best types of candy.
"Snickers bars are the best!" Omar the Bold cried.
"No way! Sugar Daddies are!" Soren the Hard-of-Hearing Scribe yelled, erupting inot a coughing fit right after.
"Lemon Heads," George the Yellow stuttered.
"Nuh-Nuh! Circus Peanuts are!" Erik the Noisy spluttered.
"Um, I like skittles, dear," Lulu the Loud cooed to Erik.
"Oh, I mean, Skittles are." Erik muttered.
"I like me," Phil the Conceited grinned.
"You're all wrong." I said smugly. "Coconut Flavored Gumdrops."
"You like Coconut Flavored Gumdrops?" Lulu the Loud inquired.
"What? No! I hate Coconut with a passion that burns hotter than the sun!" I cried. "I like Candy Corn."
"Then why didn't you say so?" Erik grumpily asked.
"Say what?" I asked.
"Say that you liked Candy Corn!" Omar screamed.
"I did," I said.
"No, you said you liked Coconut-Flavored Gumdrops at first," Soren said.
"I hate Coconut!" I cried.
"Then why did you say you like Coconut-Flavored Gumdrops?" George moaned.
"Why would I say that? I hate Coconut!" I said.
"No, I hate Coconut," Phil said.
"I fail to see how any of this applies," Soren muttered.
"A fly? WHERE?" Lulu screamed, swatting her hands through the air.
"You think Flies are the best kind of Candy? SICK!" Omar cried.
You see why I hate these people.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
"Snickers bars are the best!" Omar the Bold cried.
"No way! Sugar Daddies are!" Soren the Hard-of-Hearing Scribe yelled, erupting inot a coughing fit right after.
"Lemon Heads," George the Yellow stuttered.
"Nuh-Nuh! Circus Peanuts are!" Erik the Noisy spluttered.
"Um, I like skittles, dear," Lulu the Loud cooed to Erik.
"Oh, I mean, Skittles are." Erik muttered.
"I like me," Phil the Conceited grinned.
"You're all wrong." I said smugly. "Coconut Flavored Gumdrops."
"You like Coconut Flavored Gumdrops?" Lulu the Loud inquired.
"What? No! I hate Coconut with a passion that burns hotter than the sun!" I cried. "I like Candy Corn."
"Then why didn't you say so?" Erik grumpily asked.
"Say what?" I asked.
"Say that you liked Candy Corn!" Omar screamed.
"I did," I said.
"No, you said you liked Coconut-Flavored Gumdrops at first," Soren said.
"I hate Coconut!" I cried.
"Then why did you say you like Coconut-Flavored Gumdrops?" George moaned.
"Why would I say that? I hate Coconut!" I said.
"No, I hate Coconut," Phil said.
"I fail to see how any of this applies," Soren muttered.
"A fly? WHERE?" Lulu screamed, swatting her hands through the air.
"You think Flies are the best kind of Candy? SICK!" Omar cried.
You see why I hate these people.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Soreness
Oh. Man.
I am so sore.
What with Bard Camp and the Viking Soccer Team try-outs, I feel like a bunch of un-cooked spaghetti being forced to move like cooked spaghetti. It's torture.
So, what do we Vikings do to alleviate soreness? Well, I'll tell you.
There are one of three options you may choose should you want to loosen up. The first is simple: rub a bunch of Granny's Beetroot surprise on the sore parts. Soren the Hard-of-Hearing Scribe uses that one often, though I think its just because he has a thing for our local Granny, Hilda the Granny, to be precise. But don't worry: Any granny can work.
The second option is to set up a course much like the first part in the final level of the first Lego Star Wars. It's where you're running over a pit of lava on panels, and the panels fall away in a timely manner, no matter if you even walked on them or not. Remember, the falling panels must fall slowly enough that you don't have to sprint to avoid falling into the lava, but fast enough that you have to put forth some effort to move.
The third and last option is to have a friend whose WOC (weapon of Choice) is a hammer sneak up behind you, knock you out, and poke your unconscious body's brain. As your limp body flails about like tomorrow's sunday, your muscles will gradually loosen and you'll feel great.
Imma gonna go get some Granny's Beetroot Surprise. SInce I'm so desperate for a girl, I suppose Hilda will have to do.
Geez, you weren't supposed to read that, Soren!
Oops, did I type what I was talking again? My bad.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
I am so sore.
What with Bard Camp and the Viking Soccer Team try-outs, I feel like a bunch of un-cooked spaghetti being forced to move like cooked spaghetti. It's torture.
So, what do we Vikings do to alleviate soreness? Well, I'll tell you.
There are one of three options you may choose should you want to loosen up. The first is simple: rub a bunch of Granny's Beetroot surprise on the sore parts. Soren the Hard-of-Hearing Scribe uses that one often, though I think its just because he has a thing for our local Granny, Hilda the Granny, to be precise. But don't worry: Any granny can work.
The second option is to set up a course much like the first part in the final level of the first Lego Star Wars. It's where you're running over a pit of lava on panels, and the panels fall away in a timely manner, no matter if you even walked on them or not. Remember, the falling panels must fall slowly enough that you don't have to sprint to avoid falling into the lava, but fast enough that you have to put forth some effort to move.
The third and last option is to have a friend whose WOC (weapon of Choice) is a hammer sneak up behind you, knock you out, and poke your unconscious body's brain. As your limp body flails about like tomorrow's sunday, your muscles will gradually loosen and you'll feel great.
Imma gonna go get some Granny's Beetroot Surprise. SInce I'm so desperate for a girl, I suppose Hilda will have to do.
Geez, you weren't supposed to read that, Soren!
Oops, did I type what I was talking again? My bad.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Bardic Hats
Well, save for Bard Camp, summer is over. Since I've arrived at Bard camp, representing the Bloodhound II and its crew, I have learned some new propaganda Leif the Armless, the chief Viking leader, has put out. Most are too complex for your little minds, but let me tell you the main one:
VIKING BARDS ARE NO LONGER REQUIRED TO WEAR BATTLE HELMETS.
Shocking, isn't it? Apparently, the helmets interfere with bard's abilities to communicate with their Muses. I suppose that's true, since I've never heard any muses before. However, Viking Bards are still required to wear some sort of hat, though Vikings helmets can still be that choice if needed.
I, for one, have decided to keep the Duct Tape Monstrosity, but only as a back-up I'll-wear-it-occasionally hat. NO, the hat for me is a Trilby. Look it up, You're already on the internet anyway.
Yes, I have gone through another Wardrobe change, haven't I? Better than a Wardrobe Malfunction, I spose.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
PS: Don't forget to check out my good buddie's blog, omarhatesolaf.blogspot.com.
VIKING BARDS ARE NO LONGER REQUIRED TO WEAR BATTLE HELMETS.
Shocking, isn't it? Apparently, the helmets interfere with bard's abilities to communicate with their Muses. I suppose that's true, since I've never heard any muses before. However, Viking Bards are still required to wear some sort of hat, though Vikings helmets can still be that choice if needed.
I, for one, have decided to keep the Duct Tape Monstrosity, but only as a back-up I'll-wear-it-occasionally hat. NO, the hat for me is a Trilby. Look it up, You're already on the internet anyway.
Yes, I have gone through another Wardrobe change, haven't I? Better than a Wardrobe Malfunction, I spose.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
PS: Don't forget to check out my good buddie's blog, omarhatesolaf.blogspot.com.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Summer Files: Post UK
Welp, Omar and I are back. Gregory the Hairy Chieftain* commended me for sticking with the task on hand, and not spending too much time blogging this week. He then pulled Omar aside as yelled at him about something for a good five hours. I bet it was something about how he blogged too much, or something. I'm not going to find out, since I might inadvertantly steal some of the comedy gold Omar has on his site.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*His name is Gregory the Hairy; and a Chieftain. Just wanted to clear that up.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*His name is Gregory the Hairy; and a Chieftain. Just wanted to clear that up.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Summer Files: UK 8
I killed one Ninja Archmage today.
Omar killed two of those today.
He's keeping his own talley at omarhateolaf.blogspot.com.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Omar killed two of those today.
He's keeping his own talley at omarhateolaf.blogspot.com.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Friday, July 31, 2009
Summer Files: UK 7
Neither of us killed any ninjas today.
Omar the Bold is keeping his own talley at omarhatesolaf.blogspot.com.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Omar the Bold is keeping his own talley at omarhatesolaf.blogspot.com.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Summer FIles: UK 6
I killed nine Ninjas today.
Omar killed two.
He's keeping his own talley at omarhatesolaf.blogspot.com.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Omar killed two.
He's keeping his own talley at omarhatesolaf.blogspot.com.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Summer Files: UK 5
I killed an even one hundred today.
Omar didn't kill any again.
He's keeping his own talley at omarhatesolaf.blogspot.com.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Omar didn't kill any again.
He's keeping his own talley at omarhatesolaf.blogspot.com.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Summer Files: UK 4
I killed nineteen Ninjas today.
Omar killed one hundred, seventy two thousand, give or take two.
He's keeping a talley at his blog too, omarhatesolaf.blogspot.com.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Omar killed one hundred, seventy two thousand, give or take two.
He's keeping a talley at his blog too, omarhatesolaf.blogspot.com.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Monday, July 27, 2009
Summer Files: UK 3
I killed 45 Ninjas today.
Omar didn't kill ANY!*
HA HA!
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*He's keeping his own talley at omarhatesolaf.blogspot.com
Omar didn't kill ANY!*
HA HA!
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*He's keeping his own talley at omarhatesolaf.blogspot.com
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Summer Files: UK 2
For this trip, it was just going to be Omar and I. Gregory made us both promise to not spend time blogging for the trip, but merely type out how many Ninjas we killed, and if we needed asistance or something. See, the whole purpose of the trip was to see how many Ninjas two VIkings could kill within a week. So, here's my count for today:
23 Ninjas killed.
That sucker Omar only killed one! He's keeping a talley on his blog, too. omarhatesolaf.blogpsot.com. Check it out.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
23 Ninjas killed.
That sucker Omar only killed one! He's keeping a talley on his blog, too. omarhatesolaf.blogpsot.com. Check it out.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Summer Files: Post Dentists AKA UK 1
Well, after surveying the damage done by the Dentists, of whom I killed around 507,652 of them*, Gregory the Hairy declared that we had done the best we could do. All the main characters gathered together, and Gregory told Omar and I that it was time:
We were going to the UK.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*Take that, CHAD**!
**Chad was a commenter during the 'Summer Files: Hawaii' story arc. Check his comment out.
We were going to the UK.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*Take that, CHAD**!
**Chad was a commenter during the 'Summer Files: Hawaii' story arc. Check his comment out.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Summer Files: Dentists 2
Well, nothing interesting happened today in our battle to the death with Vikings until Phil the Conceited got braces put on him.
"MY BEAUTIFUL SMILE!" He cried as he sunk to his knees. "I LOOK LIKE A DORK!"
Soren the Hard-of-Hearing Scribe, the oldest guy here, tried to drag Phil to Rasputin the Healer, but he was mercilessly DENTURED by those cruel, cruel Dentists. Omar cried to me, "ONLY YOU CAN TAKE THEM TO RASPUTIN! GO! GO!" I grabbed the two fallen vikings and tried to drag them a few feet, but the next thing I knew, there was a red liquid squirting down my back. I turned around to see Omar, his sword dripping with the said liquid.
"AH HA HA!" He screamed. "I HAVE FINALLY KILLED YOU!"
"No, you didn't," I said, pointing behind him. "You missed his vitals."
Omar turned around to see a particularly large dentist with several Omar-stab wounds in him. With a bone-crunching crunch, Omar was pulverized by the large dentist's large toothbrush.
Long story short, the Dentists got the Ale, and now I'm mad at Omar for breaking all the Ketchup packets I glued to my back hair.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
"MY BEAUTIFUL SMILE!" He cried as he sunk to his knees. "I LOOK LIKE A DORK!"
Soren the Hard-of-Hearing Scribe, the oldest guy here, tried to drag Phil to Rasputin the Healer, but he was mercilessly DENTURED by those cruel, cruel Dentists. Omar cried to me, "ONLY YOU CAN TAKE THEM TO RASPUTIN! GO! GO!" I grabbed the two fallen vikings and tried to drag them a few feet, but the next thing I knew, there was a red liquid squirting down my back. I turned around to see Omar, his sword dripping with the said liquid.
"AH HA HA!" He screamed. "I HAVE FINALLY KILLED YOU!"
"No, you didn't," I said, pointing behind him. "You missed his vitals."
Omar turned around to see a particularly large dentist with several Omar-stab wounds in him. With a bone-crunching crunch, Omar was pulverized by the large dentist's large toothbrush.
Long story short, the Dentists got the Ale, and now I'm mad at Omar for breaking all the Ketchup packets I glued to my back hair.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Summer Files: Dentists
Yesterday, Gregory the Hairy discovered that a squad of highly trained Dentists were planning on attacking Urbia over the next few days. We rescheduled our Ninja-Hunting Trip, and started working on defences.
Omar the Bold, Soren the Hard-of-Hearing Scribe, Erik the Noisy, Lulu the Loud, George the Yellow, Phil the Conceited, and I were all assigned to guard the Ale. The entire town's ale is kept in a single barn in the middle of jimmy eats world... I mean, of the town.
As we sat, waiting for the Dentist onslaught, Omar did something rather odd. OH, have I mentioned he has a blog, too? Its omarhatesolaf.blogspot.com. I LOVE how he put his name, and then put a bunch of random letters at it. Priceless! Its like Xkcd! ANyway, he did something odd.
I was looking right at him. He looked at me, and then looked past me. I turned around to see Phil massaging his Headrest. That wasn't anything new, so I turned back around to look at Omar. He was raising his huge sword above his head as though he was preparing to stab me.
He stabbed.
I easily deflected the blade with the chain of my Nun-Chucks, and calmly told him, "Watch where you swing that thing."
Omar became infuriated, I assume, because it was too much of a blow to his ego that I corrected him. He yelled at me, "PHIL! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO DISTRACT HIM SO I COULD KILL HIM AND BLAME IT ON THE DENTISTS LATER!" I was honestly expecting something like, "DON'T CORRECT ME!" but the poor guy had obviously lost his mind and thought I was Phil. In order to make him remember who I was, I bashed him in he head with my Nun-Chucks.
"Distract him yourself," Phil said conceitedly, making out wih the Headrest.
It was at that point that we were attacked by the Dentists. Erik fell first, his teeth a brilliant shade of pearly white. Screaming, Lulu dove onto him to protect him, but her teeth got cleaned as well. I quickly tied George to the two unconscious Vikings and told him that a big monster was coming to eat him. George ran screaming away, dragging both of the Dentisted Vikings to Rasputin the Healer, who George always runs to when he's scared, since Rasputin is also George's therapist.
Anyway, Omar woke up at this point. To make sure that he wasn't still crazy, I leaned over in his face, swinging my Nun-Chucks in a circle and killing Dentists left and right, and yelled, "DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?"
"DIE!" Omar screamed, quickly trying to throttle me. I knocked him out once again and continued fighting.
The dentists soon decided it was time for a Taffy break, so they left us for the next day. The remaining four Vikings... Me, Omar, Soren, and Phil ... decided to take a well-earned rest.
Dentist's corpses are rather comfortable pillows.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Omar the Bold, Soren the Hard-of-Hearing Scribe, Erik the Noisy, Lulu the Loud, George the Yellow, Phil the Conceited, and I were all assigned to guard the Ale. The entire town's ale is kept in a single barn in the middle of jimmy eats world... I mean, of the town.
As we sat, waiting for the Dentist onslaught, Omar did something rather odd. OH, have I mentioned he has a blog, too? Its omarhatesolaf.blogspot.com. I LOVE how he put his name, and then put a bunch of random letters at it. Priceless! Its like Xkcd! ANyway, he did something odd.
I was looking right at him. He looked at me, and then looked past me. I turned around to see Phil massaging his Headrest. That wasn't anything new, so I turned back around to look at Omar. He was raising his huge sword above his head as though he was preparing to stab me.
He stabbed.
I easily deflected the blade with the chain of my Nun-Chucks, and calmly told him, "Watch where you swing that thing."
Omar became infuriated, I assume, because it was too much of a blow to his ego that I corrected him. He yelled at me, "PHIL! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO DISTRACT HIM SO I COULD KILL HIM AND BLAME IT ON THE DENTISTS LATER!" I was honestly expecting something like, "DON'T CORRECT ME!" but the poor guy had obviously lost his mind and thought I was Phil. In order to make him remember who I was, I bashed him in he head with my Nun-Chucks.
"Distract him yourself," Phil said conceitedly, making out wih the Headrest.
It was at that point that we were attacked by the Dentists. Erik fell first, his teeth a brilliant shade of pearly white. Screaming, Lulu dove onto him to protect him, but her teeth got cleaned as well. I quickly tied George to the two unconscious Vikings and told him that a big monster was coming to eat him. George ran screaming away, dragging both of the Dentisted Vikings to Rasputin the Healer, who George always runs to when he's scared, since Rasputin is also George's therapist.
Anyway, Omar woke up at this point. To make sure that he wasn't still crazy, I leaned over in his face, swinging my Nun-Chucks in a circle and killing Dentists left and right, and yelled, "DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?"
"DIE!" Omar screamed, quickly trying to throttle me. I knocked him out once again and continued fighting.
The dentists soon decided it was time for a Taffy break, so they left us for the next day. The remaining four Vikings... Me, Omar, Soren, and Phil ... decided to take a well-earned rest.
Dentist's corpses are rather comfortable pillows.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
News Regarding '09 Schedule: Summer Files: Dentists .5
Earlier this Summer, I told you about my Ninja-Hunting trip in Ireland from the 23rd to the 25th. I also told you that I had Bard Camp to the end of summer, starting on the 29th. Well, there's been some additions and some changes to this Viking's schedule;
Something happened to me today that made me need to reschedule the Ninja-Hunting trip in Ireland to the next week, starting on the 25th and ending on the 2nd of August. The thing that happened today, I'll explain what happened tomorrow. So , recap!
23rd-25th: Thing that happened today that made me reschedule.
25th-2nd: Ninja-Hunting trip in UK (oh yeah, I forgot to mention, its not just in Ireland anymore.)
And I'm starting Bard Camp a week later than I'm supposed to; I'm starting that on the 3rd. AND, I'm trying out for the All-Viking Soccer team that week. JOY!
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Something happened to me today that made me need to reschedule the Ninja-Hunting trip in Ireland to the next week, starting on the 25th and ending on the 2nd of August. The thing that happened today, I'll explain what happened tomorrow. So , recap!
23rd-25th: Thing that happened today that made me reschedule.
25th-2nd: Ninja-Hunting trip in UK (oh yeah, I forgot to mention, its not just in Ireland anymore.)
And I'm starting Bard Camp a week later than I'm supposed to; I'm starting that on the 3rd. AND, I'm trying out for the All-Viking Soccer team that week. JOY!
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Torches
ALL RIGHT! I have added yet another accessory/arsenal addition to my Viking uniform.
For those who don't remember, here's what I had before today:
WOC: Nun-Chucks
Back-Up WOC: Machete
Helmet: Duct Tape Monstrosity
Shades: Shades
Mouth: Fake Wooden Pipe
Weapon No One is supposed to know about since vikings don't use ranged weapons: Shlingshot.
The new thing I've added is something so freaking sweet, its sweet. Its a Tiki Torch!
I mean, just imagine: You're walking down a dark street in the dark town of Urbia. Suddenly, three pirates jump out of nowhere and scream, "I GONNA KILL YOU!"
You look at them.
You light your torch.
You point it at them.
You thrust it into yourself.
"NINJAS CAN'T CATCH YOU IF YOU'RE ON FIRE!" you sing.
I take no credit for discovering that interesting fact. I believe it was a Doctor who discovered it, a doctor named .... Hastings.
You then promptly trounce on them. So sweet.
The only problem is that I can't figure out how to carry it, the fuel for it, AND a lighter without seriously hampering my movement.
Any suggestions?*
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*Oh right. No one reads this blog, so they can't give suggestions, either.
For those who don't remember, here's what I had before today:
WOC: Nun-Chucks
Back-Up WOC: Machete
Helmet: Duct Tape Monstrosity
Shades: Shades
Mouth: Fake Wooden Pipe
Weapon No One is supposed to know about since vikings don't use ranged weapons: Shlingshot.
The new thing I've added is something so freaking sweet, its sweet. Its a Tiki Torch!
I mean, just imagine: You're walking down a dark street in the dark town of Urbia. Suddenly, three pirates jump out of nowhere and scream, "I GONNA KILL YOU!"
You look at them.
You light your torch.
You point it at them.
You thrust it into yourself.
"NINJAS CAN'T CATCH YOU IF YOU'RE ON FIRE!" you sing.
I take no credit for discovering that interesting fact. I believe it was a Doctor who discovered it, a doctor named .... Hastings.
You then promptly trounce on them. So sweet.
The only problem is that I can't figure out how to carry it, the fuel for it, AND a lighter without seriously hampering my movement.
Any suggestions?*
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*Oh right. No one reads this blog, so they can't give suggestions, either.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Stupid License
Like every other stupid person on this stupid planet, I have to stupidly pass my stupid driver's test to get my stupid licence. And wouldn't stupid you know it? I'VE FAILED EVERY SINGLE STUPID ONE!
Now, stupid vikings don't have to REALLY get stupid Driver's lisences, they have to get stupid Vikings Licences. That gives you the stupid permission to stupidly drive a stupid boat. And guess what, stupid? I'VE FAILED EVERY SINGLE STUPID ONE!
It all stupidly started when stupid Gregory the Hairy wouldn't let stupid me get my stupid licence before I was Stupid-Teen years old. Once I passed that stupid age, I have failed every single stupid one! I'm stupid, come on!
I have stupidly run through stupid red buoys, run into stupid stop fish, and gotten distracted by a stupid pretty girl, ALL ON MY STUPID VIKING STUPID TEST! The stupid pretty girl distraction happened at LEAST fifteen times, too!
Sigh... I guess, stupidly, of course, that the only good stupid thing that came out of this whole stupid post was that I stupidly set the record for the saying the most Stupid word ever in a stupid blog post. Thirty five stupid times by this stupid sentence!
I guess this stupid post wasn't so stupid after all...
Oops, thirty seven stupid times.
Oops, thirty-eight stupid times.
Oops, thirty-nine stupid times.
Oops, forty stupid times.
Oops, forty-one stupid times.
Oops, forty-two stupid times.
Oops, forty-three stupid times.
Oops, forty-four stupid times.
Oops, forty-five stupid times.
Oops, forty-six stupid times.
Oops, forty-seven stupid times.
Ooops, forty eight stupid times.
Oops, forty-nine stupid times.
ARGH!
OLAF THE STUPID BALD!*
*Oops, fifty-one stupid times.
Now, stupid vikings don't have to REALLY get stupid Driver's lisences, they have to get stupid Vikings Licences. That gives you the stupid permission to stupidly drive a stupid boat. And guess what, stupid? I'VE FAILED EVERY SINGLE STUPID ONE!
It all stupidly started when stupid Gregory the Hairy wouldn't let stupid me get my stupid licence before I was Stupid-Teen years old. Once I passed that stupid age, I have failed every single stupid one! I'm stupid, come on!
I have stupidly run through stupid red buoys, run into stupid stop fish, and gotten distracted by a stupid pretty girl, ALL ON MY STUPID VIKING STUPID TEST! The stupid pretty girl distraction happened at LEAST fifteen times, too!
Sigh... I guess, stupidly, of course, that the only good stupid thing that came out of this whole stupid post was that I stupidly set the record for the saying the most Stupid word ever in a stupid blog post. Thirty five stupid times by this stupid sentence!
I guess this stupid post wasn't so stupid after all...
Oops, thirty seven stupid times.
Oops, thirty-eight stupid times.
Oops, thirty-nine stupid times.
Oops, forty stupid times.
Oops, forty-one stupid times.
Oops, forty-two stupid times.
Oops, forty-three stupid times.
Oops, forty-four stupid times.
Oops, forty-five stupid times.
Oops, forty-six stupid times.
Oops, forty-seven stupid times.
Ooops, forty eight stupid times.
Oops, forty-nine stupid times.
ARGH!
OLAF THE STUPID BALD!*
*Oops, fifty-one stupid times.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Subordinates
I was reading through comments my posts have received, and I stumbled upon this one, posted by 'I was once on Fire!' on the 'Summer Files: Hawaii 5' post:
Do you have not-main-character vikings under your command, Olaf-the-Bald? Does Omar?
Do you have to recruit your own subordinates? Are they actually vikings? Do you have to be born viking to be a viking, or can you turn people into vikings, like vampires turn people into vampires or werewolfs turn people into werewolfs?
Also, are they partially fish-sticks?
He then posted this comment right underneath it:
Are you allergic to your fish-stick-flavoured subordinates?
Now, despite the fact that good ol' Firey has been a die-hard fan since day 17*, he obviously hasn't been paying attention. There are eight main characters in this blog: Me, Omar the Bold, Erik the Noisy, Lulu the Loud, Phil the Conceited, George the Yellow, Soren the Hard-of-Hearing Scribe, and our chieftain Gregory the Hairy. Now, every single one of those main characters report to the eighth main character, Gregory, and Gregory has around forty other vikings who report to him. The rest of us? We just putter along and somehow survive every single bad thing that happens to the rest of the non-main character vikings. Its like Pirates of the Carribean, man!
The only TRUE subordinate I have is Archon the Cat; remember him? From, like, the first twenty posts? And for all those who have cats, you know that a cat is a subordinate to NO ONE. I mean, if he was starving to death, and I asked him to eat some food, he would not eat JUST because I told him to. He stays alive after every encounter, too, though I never mention him, since he usually doesn't show up until two weeks afterward, soaking wet and meowing like the world is ending.
That is all.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*'Die-Hard Fan' meaning 'Having posted more than five comments,'
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Summer FIles: Post Hawaii
WHoo! I'm just now realizing how tired I am! Killing three million people while trying to fight off forty thousand million people at the same time in a space of five days is TIRING!
Man oh man.
Being a Viking is awesome.
Regular posts return tomorrow, and hopefully last the rest of the week!
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Man oh man.
Being a Viking is awesome.
Regular posts return tomorrow, and hopefully last the rest of the week!
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Friday, July 17, 2009
Summer Files: Hawaii 5
The competition has ended!
Of the 40,000,000,000 people who entered the competiton, only 50,000,000 are alive. Among that number is, obviously, me, Omar the Bold, Soren the Hard-of-Hearing Scribe, Erik the Noisy, Lulu the Loud, Phil the Conceited, George the Yellow, and Gregory the Hairy. Gregory looked at who was left of his crew and sighed. "This summer has been a killer on recruiting," He muttered. I guess that means he has to go pull around 42 more vikings out of his sleeve or whereever he gets them from whenever our whole crew dies; except for the main characters, who never die, obviously.
Anyway, I think I killed around three million people. That's harder than it sounds. I'm pretty sure I got fifth in the end standings. And I didn't even kill anyone tuesday!
Omar is still sizzling, sadly. Its SUPER hard to understand him, but I think I picked out him saying, "The only reason you didn't die, Olaf, is because, fo some reason, you're under the protection of Thor." But that's a little too specific, so I think I misheard.
Anyway, we're heading home! We should be there tomorrow!
Come to me, Urbia...
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Summer FIles: Hawaii 4
I don't want to type a single sentence today, since my Laptop will be ruined. If I type even ONE sentence, I'll have to get a new laptop, since there will be blood from my kills all over it.
DARN IT!
THERE'S BLOOD ALL OVER MY LAPTOP! HOW DID THAT HAPPEN?
Better not type "Olaf the BAAAAALD!" either. Could make it worse.
DARN IT!
DARN IT!
THERE'S BLOOD ALL OVER MY LAPTOP! HOW DID THAT HAPPEN?
Better not type "Olaf the BAAAAALD!" either. Could make it worse.
DARN IT!
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Summer Files: Hawaii 3
When the day started, the sun found me creeping along the water's edge, snorkeling my way around the perimeter of the islands. I'm pretty sure I got the first kill, since I found some stupid pirate SLEEPING when the clock struck twelve.
He's dead now, if you were wondering.
About halfway through the day, I decided to try something new again. I pulled a body-sized tortilla wrap out of my bag of infinite storage, wrapped my self in it, and laid down.
And I kid you not: Almost nine thousand people fell for it.
Ooops, I made a typo. Almost nine thousand people did NOT fall for it. See, my plan was for hungry people to come up, see food, try to eat, and I choke them to death. NO! Not what happened. They saw the tortilla wrap, and immediately tried to stab it. I had to kill each and every single one the normal way! Twas a good ninja day, though; I had barely seen ANY ninjas the whole time, but I killed over two thousand today.
Oh yeah; one of the nine thousand people who did NOT fall for it was Omar the Bold. He came up and began stabbing it. Since all Vikings made a truce not to kill each other during the competition, I yelled, "OMAR! It's me!" He paused.
"Olaf?" He asked.
"Yep, just trying to get some more kills," I said smugly."Like my trick?"
"YES! YOU'RE ALIVE!" he yelled. What a good friend! He was concerned about whether or not I was alive!
After the outburst, Omar began trying to stab the tortilla wrap again. "What a good thing to talk about in my blog, at omarhatesolaf.blogspot.com! I finally kill Olaf, mexican style!"
AT that precise moment, a huge being surfaced from the waters edge, not fifteen feet away from us. It was Thor.
"AH, I just finished beating up on Poseidon! It was great!" He yelled. Suddenly, he looked down and saw Omar stabbing me repeatedly, since he was obviously suffering from short-term memory loss about my presence.
"NO! HE STILL HAS TO FULFILL HIS DESTINY!" Thor yelled, zapping Omar with with hammer. Omar fell backward, sizzling. Thor looked embarrased.
"Olaf, you are too much trouble to keep alive;" he said, flying up into the air.
No clue what he was talking about.
Anyway, as Omar sizzled like bacon, I was promptly tried to be eaten upon by a few thousand more people. I finally decided that my plan wasn't working, and decided to split from the large pile of bodies that had been built around me. I checked Omar's pulse, and to my relief, he was still alive.
"Good! You're still alive!" I said. "See ya round!"
"I will kill you!" He muttered-shouted.
What a kidder!
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
He's dead now, if you were wondering.
About halfway through the day, I decided to try something new again. I pulled a body-sized tortilla wrap out of my bag of infinite storage, wrapped my self in it, and laid down.
And I kid you not: Almost nine thousand people fell for it.
Ooops, I made a typo. Almost nine thousand people did NOT fall for it. See, my plan was for hungry people to come up, see food, try to eat, and I choke them to death. NO! Not what happened. They saw the tortilla wrap, and immediately tried to stab it. I had to kill each and every single one the normal way! Twas a good ninja day, though; I had barely seen ANY ninjas the whole time, but I killed over two thousand today.
Oh yeah; one of the nine thousand people who did NOT fall for it was Omar the Bold. He came up and began stabbing it. Since all Vikings made a truce not to kill each other during the competition, I yelled, "OMAR! It's me!" He paused.
"Olaf?" He asked.
"Yep, just trying to get some more kills," I said smugly."Like my trick?"
"YES! YOU'RE ALIVE!" he yelled. What a good friend! He was concerned about whether or not I was alive!
After the outburst, Omar began trying to stab the tortilla wrap again. "What a good thing to talk about in my blog, at omarhatesolaf.blogspot.com! I finally kill Olaf, mexican style!"
AT that precise moment, a huge being surfaced from the waters edge, not fifteen feet away from us. It was Thor.
"AH, I just finished beating up on Poseidon! It was great!" He yelled. Suddenly, he looked down and saw Omar stabbing me repeatedly, since he was obviously suffering from short-term memory loss about my presence.
"NO! HE STILL HAS TO FULFILL HIS DESTINY!" Thor yelled, zapping Omar with with hammer. Omar fell backward, sizzling. Thor looked embarrased.
"Olaf, you are too much trouble to keep alive;" he said, flying up into the air.
No clue what he was talking about.
Anyway, as Omar sizzled like bacon, I was promptly tried to be eaten upon by a few thousand more people. I finally decided that my plan wasn't working, and decided to split from the large pile of bodies that had been built around me. I checked Omar's pulse, and to my relief, he was still alive.
"Good! You're still alive!" I said. "See ya round!"
"I will kill you!" He muttered-shouted.
What a kidder!
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Summer Files: Hawaii 2
Ok, this was SO much more boring yet worth it than yesterday!
So I brought some ketchup with me, right? As the morning dawned and the person in charge of the whole competition, the Ghost of Sir Nick the HP*, the last living** representative of the Knight class in general, shouted the standings, I slathered myself with ketchup and laid down in an inconspicuous spot.
See, my plan was, the ketchup would make it look like I was dead, and when people came up, they'd see I was dead, laugh, kick me, and then I'd slit their throat. Priceless, no?
Well, NO ONE CAME BY THE WHOLE FREAKING DAY! You'd think, with over 40,000 million residents, tourists, and competitors all spread out of the Hawaiian islands, SOMEONE would have come by in the ten hours I laid there! But NO! Not happening, apparently!
Finally, some Ninja dude comes up and sniffs. "Gee, If I could smell anything over the smell of that ketchup, I could tell whether or not that Viking is really dead! SOMEONE is using TOO MUCH KETCHUP ON THEIR FRIES!" The last sentence, the Ninja yelled really loudly.
At that exact moment, Omar the Bold comes out of some bushes and sees the Ninjas standing over me. "YOU K-ES-ER!" he yelles.
"K? S? Er?" The ninja confusedly asked. "Wazzat mean?"
"KILL STEALER!" Omar yelled. "I HAVE HATED THIS GUY FOR YEARS, I HAE PLANNED HIS DEATH SO MANY TIMES, AND JUST WHEN I HAVE HIM IN MY GRASP, YOU KILL HIM!"
Omar is SUCH a good actor. Pretending he wanted to kill me! Ha!
Anyway, I could tell Omar was in trouble, so I was about to stab the ninja for him with my machete when all of a sudden, Omar dove toward the Ninja, yelling something about wanting to kill the one who killed me. I just LOVE it when people try to avenge my death, as a friend!
Anyway, so the Ninja and Omar ran off, and I laid there until the now, still waiting. No-one came by, so I decided to try going about the same way I did monday tomorrow. Oh, Sir Nick announced that around 10,000 million have been slaughtered so far.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*IF you don't know what that stands for, you need to die. Come down to Hawaii this week.
** I guess you really can't call him LIVING...
So I brought some ketchup with me, right? As the morning dawned and the person in charge of the whole competition, the Ghost of Sir Nick the HP*, the last living** representative of the Knight class in general, shouted the standings, I slathered myself with ketchup and laid down in an inconspicuous spot.
See, my plan was, the ketchup would make it look like I was dead, and when people came up, they'd see I was dead, laugh, kick me, and then I'd slit their throat. Priceless, no?
Well, NO ONE CAME BY THE WHOLE FREAKING DAY! You'd think, with over 40,000 million residents, tourists, and competitors all spread out of the Hawaiian islands, SOMEONE would have come by in the ten hours I laid there! But NO! Not happening, apparently!
Finally, some Ninja dude comes up and sniffs. "Gee, If I could smell anything over the smell of that ketchup, I could tell whether or not that Viking is really dead! SOMEONE is using TOO MUCH KETCHUP ON THEIR FRIES!" The last sentence, the Ninja yelled really loudly.
At that exact moment, Omar the Bold comes out of some bushes and sees the Ninjas standing over me. "YOU K-ES-ER!" he yelles.
"K? S? Er?" The ninja confusedly asked. "Wazzat mean?"
"KILL STEALER!" Omar yelled. "I HAVE HATED THIS GUY FOR YEARS, I HAE PLANNED HIS DEATH SO MANY TIMES, AND JUST WHEN I HAVE HIM IN MY GRASP, YOU KILL HIM!"
Omar is SUCH a good actor. Pretending he wanted to kill me! Ha!
Anyway, I could tell Omar was in trouble, so I was about to stab the ninja for him with my machete when all of a sudden, Omar dove toward the Ninja, yelling something about wanting to kill the one who killed me. I just LOVE it when people try to avenge my death, as a friend!
Anyway, so the Ninja and Omar ran off, and I laid there until the now, still waiting. No-one came by, so I decided to try going about the same way I did monday tomorrow. Oh, Sir Nick announced that around 10,000 million have been slaughtered so far.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*IF you don't know what that stands for, you need to die. Come down to Hawaii this week.
** I guess you really can't call him LIVING...
Monday, July 13, 2009
Summer Files: Hawaii
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.
That's what I told you about what I'm doing this next week, in the 'Summer' post of June. Gregry the Hairy woke us up so INCREDIBLY early that we were sleep-rowing all the way from Greenland to Hawaii.
When we got there, we had to go sign in. I became Contestant #1,987,423, which, as you can tell by the small number, we were some of the earliest participants to arrive. After signing in, the entire crew split, separating themselves from the est of everyone else, as this is an individual competition. For some reason, as we split, Omar the Bold looked over at me, yelled, "Have your readers check out my blog!"***** He then made a threatening, stabbing gesture with his overly large sword. Wonder we he did that. About two hours later, the rest of the 40,000 million contestants had signed in, the volcano had been blown,* and it was time.
Since the start of the battle, I have kept a running record on how many people I've killed. Here's how I've done:
Major class kills:
Ninjas: 3 kills.
Pirates: 1,234 kills.
Samurai: 0 kills.**
Clowns: 5 kills.
Robots: 2,000 even.***
Dentists: 0 kills.****
Firemen: 16 kills.
Postal Workers: 13 kills.
It's been a good day for hunting. OH! And I killed around a million Minor class representatives, including fifteen thousand Environmentalists. They may have some representable power, but good fighters they do not make.
Since killing over a million people JUST using the Wildanceamancer attack gets a little boring, I've created some... TRICKS... I can use to get some people, just for some entertainment.
HOw come I have time to blog during a non-stop education? Easy. Beatin' people off with my left hand, typing with my right.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*How we signify the competition has started.
**I saw around a hundred at different times standing at random places, but I wasn't about to kill one, for fear of their ghosts eating my soul.
*** I like leaving some alive, so that way they can reproduce and make more fun kills for later. For some wierd reason, I just love the way they spazz and flutter after dying.
**** Did you know there's a shortage of dental workers all over the world right now?
***** omarhatesolaf.blogspot.com
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Hooking Up
Despite Lulu the Loud's dating Erik the Noisy, we're still good friends, too.
She has more connections to people in her cell phone than even Erik the Noisy does, for clarification for what I'm gonna say next.
Yesterday, she comes up to me and asks, 'Do you know Selena the Foreign?'
Heck, of course I did! She was in my freshmen science, social studies, and english classes at CVU! She was a cheerleader, and everyone loved her. She was pretty amazing. However, do to my incredible nerdyness, we never really talked.
"Yeah, I know OF her, but I don't really KNOW her," I said.
"Well, we're good friends, and we were talking a few days ago, and she said, 'I broke up with my boyfriend a few weeks ago. I wish I could date someone nice.' And I thought, gee, look, Olaf! He's nice!"
"What, not me?" Soren the Hard-of-Hearing Scribe yelled, dropping from the ceiling.
"What, not me?" George the Yellow yelled, running out of the bathroom.
"What, not me?" Phil the Conceited yelled, running away from a mirror toward us.
"What, not me?" Gregory the Hairy yelled, running into the room through a wall.
"What, Olaf's not nice at ALL!" Omar the Bold cried, doing a double-back-flip summersault throught the door.
"You're too old, you're too nervous, all you do is talk about yourself, you're MARRIED, and you're just jealous of Olaf's niceness," Lulu said in quick succession to each of the yellers in order.
"Oh yeah," the first four yellers said, going back out the way they came.
"No I'm not," Omar said. Lulu smacked him in the face with her mace, which is her WOC (weapon of choice).
"Um, ok," I said, bring Lulu back to where we were.
"So I showed her a picture of you I have on my cell phone, and she thought you were pretty cute."
"How old a picture do you have of me?" I suspiciously asked, since Lulu hadn't taken a picture of me EVER, as far as I knew.
"I had this one!" she said, holding her camera up for me to see. I looked and saw a baby picture of me.
"No wonder she thought my ugly mug was cute; What baby's isn't?" I said disgustedly. "When did you even get that?"
"You had a copy under your pillow," Lulu replied. I had forgotten about that; I believe in osmosis, and I thought I might be more youthful If I kept a baby picture near me while I slept.
"But... she's a little too good for me, isn't she?" I said suspiciously.
"Bull Honkey!" She said. "You're fairly attractive ..."
"Yeah right..." I muttered.
"... And very sweet. That's all she's looking for." Lulu said.
"Whatever."
"Is it ok if I give her your number?" Lulu asked.
"I don't have a cell phone," I said. "REAL vikings don't have cell phones."
Lulu glared at me with a feminine glare; you know the one.
"OK!" I gasped. "You know it already."
So, Lulu is trying to hook me up with Selena the Foriegn. She's pretty amazing too, if I haven't already said that.
Don't know how long its gonna take, but in reality, I kinda like someone else, though if Selena beats them to the punch, how can I help that?
No, the person I like is NOT Lulu. I'm not saying that sarcastically, either. It's someone else, one I've never mentioned on the blog before.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Summer Files: Post Bucket
Well, I'm back with the crew of the Bloodhound II. Turns out the land I saw yesterday was, you guessed it, Scandinavia. I washed up right on the shores of CVU, or so I was told.
The last thing I remember was starting to type 'Olaf the BAAAAALD' just as the Kraken I saw smashed me in the back of the head with the rock. Lief the Armless, the Dean of CVU, and all the Almost-Viking Students watched the whole thing. I was washed ashore a few hours later by the sea, and Lief dragged me to the infirmary. According to him, I was mumbling things like, 'Lief said... Omar... VIA... I like pie...' over and over again.
When I came to the next morning, Lief was sitting by my bedside, which is what he always does when I end up at CVU unconscious, which is how I always arrive, if you've noticed.
"Lief! Your bucket experiment worked!" I cried. "If it wasn't for the navigation system breaking down, I would have been here a lot more sooner!"
"What bucket experiment?" Lief bemusedly asked.
"You know! How you wanted to find out if vikings were still effective as individuals on the open sea! Your VIA experiment you chose to send the best Viking ever for!"
Lief shook his head. "Let me guess... Omar the Bold set you up for this, didn't he?"
"Yep!" I said.
Lief shook his head again. "Ok, then, Good Work on behalf of the GYA..."
"It's VIA, you little kidder!" I said.
"... VIA, Olaf the Bald," Lief finished, standing up and heading for the door. "By the way, since your experiment was a success, the VIA is being dissolved, since that was the main purpose behind it."
"I see!" I said excitedly. "Thanks, Lief!"
"Also, can you tell Omar that that was a mighty fine joke?" Lief asked, pausing at the door.
"What joke?" I asked, mystified.
"Just tell him," Lief said, smiling. "And, Olaf...?"
"Yeah?" I asked.
"That lipstick isn't your color," He said, walking out.
Lief gave me a ride back to Urbia in one of the motorboats the students there had stolen from some hapless motorboaters. As I rode up, the Vikings from my good old crew all were jumping up into the air and hollering, happy that they finally knew where I was. Omar the Bold, however, didn't move, staring at me in stunned silence.
"DUDE! That was awesome!" I cried.
"HOW COME YOU'RE NOT DEAD?" He screamed back at me. What a good friend!
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Friday, July 10, 2009
Summer Files: Bucket 5
I SEE LAND!
I ALSO SEE A GIGANTIC KRAKEN HOLDING A ROCK BEHIND ME!
I CAN'T TALK RIGHT NOW!
DEFINITELY CAN'T KEEP ON TYPING ANY MORE SENTENCES!
BECAUSE IF I DID, THEN I WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO FINISH UP MY POSTS THE WAY I ALWAYS DO!
LIKE THIS:
Ola
I ALSO SEE A GIGANTIC KRAKEN HOLDING A ROCK BEHIND ME!
I CAN'T TALK RIGHT NOW!
DEFINITELY CAN'T KEEP ON TYPING ANY MORE SENTENCES!
BECAUSE IF I DID, THEN I WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO FINISH UP MY POSTS THE WAY I ALWAYS DO!
LIKE THIS:
Ola
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Summer FIles: Bucket 4
Yeah. Still just wandering aimlessly through the Atlantic in a Bucket.
That Monkey from yesterday has horrible taste, too. That lipstick was NO WHERE NEAR my color.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
That Monkey from yesterday has horrible taste, too. That lipstick was NO WHERE NEAR my color.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Summer Files: Bucket 3
Nothing exciting happened today, either.
OH! Unless you count the herd of dolphins that attacked me from all sides, ripped my arms off, then poorly reattached them. They MUST have been dolphins, since they had the dorsal fins and everything.
Funny... I don't remember anyone ever telling me that dolphins had multiple, serrated teeth or were terrible doctors. I was always told that had a playful bottlenose and were good doctors.
Anyway, nothing exciting happened today.
OH! Unless you count a huge Monkey the size of a small island popping out of the surface, waving at me, blowing his nose, handing me a small lipstick vial, and disappearing with a large poof of bubbles exciting.
But yeah; Nothing happened today.
OH! Unless you count the alien spaceship that crahsed down into the sea right next to me, aliens climbing out, looking at me, waving, and then turning into fish exciting!
Yeah.
Nothing.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
OH! Unless you count the herd of dolphins that attacked me from all sides, ripped my arms off, then poorly reattached them. They MUST have been dolphins, since they had the dorsal fins and everything.
Funny... I don't remember anyone ever telling me that dolphins had multiple, serrated teeth or were terrible doctors. I was always told that had a playful bottlenose and were good doctors.
Anyway, nothing exciting happened today.
OH! Unless you count a huge Monkey the size of a small island popping out of the surface, waving at me, blowing his nose, handing me a small lipstick vial, and disappearing with a large poof of bubbles exciting.
But yeah; Nothing happened today.
OH! Unless you count the alien spaceship that crahsed down into the sea right next to me, aliens climbing out, looking at me, waving, and then turning into fish exciting!
Yeah.
Nothing.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Summer Files: Bucket 2
Quick summary of the events of what is happening this week: Omar the Bold, working for Lief the Armless as an agent of the VIA, came to me and asked that I experiment with a concept in which Vikings don't travel around in ships as groups, but as individuals in small vessels like buckets. This may possibly help the ever-increasing problem of the viking population decreasing.
Well, this is boring.
Absolutely nothing has happened.
Oh, wait! I forgot to mention; my navigation systems that Omar the Bold installed in the Bucket stop working.
How coincidental.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Well, this is boring.
Absolutely nothing has happened.
Oh, wait! I forgot to mention; my navigation systems that Omar the Bold installed in the Bucket stop working.
How coincidental.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Monday, July 6, 2009
Summer Files: Bucket
As I've told you before, I'm planning on traversing the Atlantic, alone, stuck only in a Bucket, with no weapons or any other distinguishing way of distinguishing me as a distinguished viking.
Now, why am I doing this, you ask? Omar the Bold came up to me just before summer ended and told me he is a member of the VIA, Vikings in Awesomeness, governemental program, headed up by Lief the Armless, who, incidentally, is the leader of ALL the vikings, and Dean of CVU. Anyway, Omar told me that Lief thinks that it would be much more effective and awesome if Vikings split up into individual entities and traveled the world in buckets, no longer working in crews, but individuals. He apparently thinks that this would help the ever-increasing Viking populations, since whole ships keep getting killed with one blow.
Anyway, so here I am. Omar told me not to tell ANYONE at all, since this is a secret mission for the government. SO, apparently, only Omar, Lief, and I know about this, and they asked me, since I 'Am the most exemplerary Vikings ever existed.' Don't know what that means, but it sounds good.
So, here I am. Early this morning, while the crew was asleep, Omar and I snuck out and he sent me off. Now, Vikings usually send ships off by smashing a bottle of Root Beer against it, but I could have sworn Omar was trying to smash the bottle into my head, as opposed to the side of the ship. But in any case, I'm off, and bloggin you using my laptop, which I always carry with me, now.
I'm blog you tomorrow at the same time.
Oh, and One more thing: Omar told me to check out his new blog, and so I invite you to do the same. I, for one, am never going to check his blog, because I might accidentally steal some of his amazingly funny things he says.
The URL is: http://omarhatesolaf.blogspot.com. I like the how he put his name, then a bunch of random letters. Tis an aptly named blog.
Check it out!
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Now, why am I doing this, you ask? Omar the Bold came up to me just before summer ended and told me he is a member of the VIA, Vikings in Awesomeness, governemental program, headed up by Lief the Armless, who, incidentally, is the leader of ALL the vikings, and Dean of CVU. Anyway, Omar told me that Lief thinks that it would be much more effective and awesome if Vikings split up into individual entities and traveled the world in buckets, no longer working in crews, but individuals. He apparently thinks that this would help the ever-increasing Viking populations, since whole ships keep getting killed with one blow.
Anyway, so here I am. Omar told me not to tell ANYONE at all, since this is a secret mission for the government. SO, apparently, only Omar, Lief, and I know about this, and they asked me, since I 'Am the most exemplerary Vikings ever existed.' Don't know what that means, but it sounds good.
So, here I am. Early this morning, while the crew was asleep, Omar and I snuck out and he sent me off. Now, Vikings usually send ships off by smashing a bottle of Root Beer against it, but I could have sworn Omar was trying to smash the bottle into my head, as opposed to the side of the ship. But in any case, I'm off, and bloggin you using my laptop, which I always carry with me, now.
I'm blog you tomorrow at the same time.
Oh, and One more thing: Omar told me to check out his new blog, and so I invite you to do the same. I, for one, am never going to check his blog, because I might accidentally steal some of his amazingly funny things he says.
The URL is: http://omarhatesolaf.blogspot.com. I like the how he put his name, then a bunch of random letters. Tis an aptly named blog.
Check it out!
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Viking Novels
Due to my status of official Bard of the Bloodhound II, led by Chieftain Gregory the Hairy, I am still in charge of all creative pursuits brought on by the crew, both individual and group-oriented.
A project I am currently working on is my novel. It's about the direct events after the world ends in 2012, December 27, in fact, where a small band of fighters of varying classes and sub-classes fight an evil, meglomanic dude trying to rule the shattered world with an iron fist.
I have seven main characters, all who join the party at varying times through the novel. They are:
Hurk, a Ninja, leader of the group and has a personal diff with the main evil guy.
Out, a Farmer (minor class), next to join and just disagrees with the main bad guy.
Seaweed, an Atlantean (minor class), third to join and is accidentally brought on through a series of coincidences.
Mary-Kate, a Male Twin Elf, (Not even a class, but a species), who frees the prior three from prison after being jailed by a more minor bad guy. He was named by his mother for one of her favorite actors.
Ashley, Mary-Kate's twin, a Male twin Elf, who has something similiar to the bloodrage in LFGcomic.com.
Slimy, a Mercenary Knight, last of his order, brought forward with a time-travelling accident. He joins originally to kill off a rebellion of the wrong sort, but winds up merging purposes with the main group.
Beauty, a Ninja, who joins the group out of love for Hurk.
Pretty good character list, eh? I think it'll be a top seller within the next two years!
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
A project I am currently working on is my novel. It's about the direct events after the world ends in 2012, December 27, in fact, where a small band of fighters of varying classes and sub-classes fight an evil, meglomanic dude trying to rule the shattered world with an iron fist.
I have seven main characters, all who join the party at varying times through the novel. They are:
Hurk, a Ninja, leader of the group and has a personal diff with the main evil guy.
Out, a Farmer (minor class), next to join and just disagrees with the main bad guy.
Seaweed, an Atlantean (minor class), third to join and is accidentally brought on through a series of coincidences.
Mary-Kate, a Male Twin Elf, (Not even a class, but a species), who frees the prior three from prison after being jailed by a more minor bad guy. He was named by his mother for one of her favorite actors.
Ashley, Mary-Kate's twin, a Male twin Elf, who has something similiar to the bloodrage in LFGcomic.com.
Slimy, a Mercenary Knight, last of his order, brought forward with a time-travelling accident. He joins originally to kill off a rebellion of the wrong sort, but winds up merging purposes with the main group.
Beauty, a Ninja, who joins the group out of love for Hurk.
Pretty good character list, eh? I think it'll be a top seller within the next two years!
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Saturday, July 4, 2009
VIdeo Games
My favorite video game is a turn-based, first-person, real-time, arcade, rpg, where you represent a band of destined four humans working to save the planet from a bunch of aliens called Zerg and Protoss, who are trying to eradicate the human race because they are being infected with a geometric disease nicknamed 'Denduron.'
It's called, 'Final Marametrycraft Hearts.'
Tis good.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
It's called, 'Final Marametrycraft Hearts.'
Tis good.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Friday, July 3, 2009
Kids Shows
Blech. All kids shows nowadays are about a wierd dude in a wierd suit singing songs about 'LOVE' and 'PRETTINESS.' It sickens me! But it got me thinking: What would one of those shows be like if it was played live?
You gotta remember three things first: One, the guys in the suits are replaced every five minutes, because if a person stays in one of those suits for longer than five minutes, they go insane. Two, the kids in those shows are replaced every episode, so it doesn't matter if something... HAPPENED to them. And, three, most of the stuff that happens is Ad-Libbed.
Ok, an episode of Barney, Live! This is about ten minutes in, now, and they haven't changed the actors for Braney because its live, you know.
Barney: AND YOU THERE!
Johnny: Me?
Barney: YES YOU! YOUR NEW NAME IS NOW PRETTINESS!
(All the other kids giggle.)
Prettiness: But that's a girlish na...
Barney: WOMAN! DON'T SASS ME!
Prettiness: Yes, Barney...
(All the other kids giggle.)
Barney: WHATCHOO GIGGLIN' FOR? YOU @#&* KIDS NEED TO &$%# %#$@ OR I'M GONNA >*^%!
(Silence for a full fifteen seconds. All the kids start to cry.)
Susie: Barney, those weren't nice words!
Barney: YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH HOW I RUN THIS SHOW? HUH? HUH? WELL, TAKE THIS!
(Barney pulls out pencil and makes gun sounds while pointing it at Susie.)
Susie: Ha ha, you big meanie! That won't work on me!
Barney: STUPID %&*%##% KIDS!
(Barney runs off screen. Runs back on with machine gun.)
Barney: *%$# DIE!
(Shoots Susie full of holes.)
Barney: Hows THAT for imagination, kids? I imagined Susie would die, AND SHE DID!
(Kids are still crying.)
Barney: SHUT $%#^& UP!
(Kids are still crying.)
Barney: *&%^%$$*! I SAID SHUT...
(Barney pulls out Broadsword)
Barney: $%#^&...
(Barney jumps into air above kids.)
Barney: UP!
(Barney slices Rover's head off. Kids stop crying, startled.)
Prettiness: You killed Rover AND Susie!
Barney: So? Now we have toys to play with! DEAD BODIES!
(The director comes running on.)
Director: Tim, you need to take a bre...
Barney: I HATE YOU TOO!
(Barney slices the Director's head off. Turns toward Prettiness.)
Barney: Prettiness... Go... get... some... STICKS...
Prettiness: All right...
(Prettiness runs into the clubhouse.)
Barney: Frank, go get some matches...
Frank: Mommy says we're not supposed to play with matches.
Barney: ARGH! STUPID #$%&^* KIDS!
(Barney shoots Frank in the left eye.)
Barney: Clarise... DARLING... you'll get matches for Barney, WON'T YOU?
Clarise: Yes, sir....
(About five more minutes of nauseating activity happens.)
(After the five minutes, you see Susie's, Rover's, The Director's, and Frank's heads all on sticks that are embedded in the ground. In a circle around the sticks, Clarise, Prettiness, Gwen, and Barney are tossing the dead people's bodies around in a circle.)
Barney: See kids? Toys!
Gwen: A BETTER toy is my cell phone.
(Gwen pulls out cell phone.)
Barney: NO CELL PHONES! CELL PHONES WILL CORRUPT YOU BRAIN, JUST LIKE TV!
Gwen: We're on TV right now.
Barney: DIE GWEN DIE!
(Shoots, stabs, cuts, and beats Gwen to death. Cell phone drops to the ground. Prettiness dives for Cell Phone.)
Prettiness: I dialed 911! We're gonna be rescued, Clarise!
(Prettiness gets shot in the right eye.)
Barney: NOW I HAVE TWINS! And for you, Clarise...
(Turns toward Clarise.)
Clarise: I didn't do anything!
Barney: We're gonna learn a song!
Clarise: Ok...
Barney: AND a dance!
Clarise: Ok...
Barney: IF YOU SPIT IN YOU PARENTS' EYES, CLAP YOUR HANDS! That's where you clap your hands, Clarise! Ok, ready? IF YOU SPIT IN YOU PARENT'S EYES, CLAP YOUR HANDS!
(Barney claps hands. CLarise doesn't.)
Barney: When I say dance.... DANCE!
(Begins shooting ground at Clarise's feet. She starts energetically dancing, moving her feet in time with the bullets.)
Barney: THAT'S NOT THE DANCE I TAUGHT YOU!
(Pops a cap in her throat. At that precise moment, a police force comes busting in and tries to halt Barney. Barney is cuttin' heads off, shouting crazily, and shooting everyone. A splatter of blood hits the camera, and you can only hear the shouts of anger and pain from every person present. Screen goes black. Its over.)
So, yeah. That's what I think a Live Kids show would be like. Sickening, isn't it?
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
You gotta remember three things first: One, the guys in the suits are replaced every five minutes, because if a person stays in one of those suits for longer than five minutes, they go insane. Two, the kids in those shows are replaced every episode, so it doesn't matter if something... HAPPENED to them. And, three, most of the stuff that happens is Ad-Libbed.
Ok, an episode of Barney, Live! This is about ten minutes in, now, and they haven't changed the actors for Braney because its live, you know.
Barney: AND YOU THERE!
Johnny: Me?
Barney: YES YOU! YOUR NEW NAME IS NOW PRETTINESS!
(All the other kids giggle.)
Prettiness: But that's a girlish na...
Barney: WOMAN! DON'T SASS ME!
Prettiness: Yes, Barney...
(All the other kids giggle.)
Barney: WHATCHOO GIGGLIN' FOR? YOU @#&* KIDS NEED TO &$%# %#$@ OR I'M GONNA >*^%!
(Silence for a full fifteen seconds. All the kids start to cry.)
Susie: Barney, those weren't nice words!
Barney: YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH HOW I RUN THIS SHOW? HUH? HUH? WELL, TAKE THIS!
(Barney pulls out pencil and makes gun sounds while pointing it at Susie.)
Susie: Ha ha, you big meanie! That won't work on me!
Barney: STUPID %&*%##% KIDS!
(Barney runs off screen. Runs back on with machine gun.)
Barney: *%$# DIE!
(Shoots Susie full of holes.)
Barney: Hows THAT for imagination, kids? I imagined Susie would die, AND SHE DID!
(Kids are still crying.)
Barney: SHUT $%#^& UP!
(Kids are still crying.)
Barney: *&%^%$$*! I SAID SHUT...
(Barney pulls out Broadsword)
Barney: $%#^&...
(Barney jumps into air above kids.)
Barney: UP!
(Barney slices Rover's head off. Kids stop crying, startled.)
Prettiness: You killed Rover AND Susie!
Barney: So? Now we have toys to play with! DEAD BODIES!
(The director comes running on.)
Director: Tim, you need to take a bre...
Barney: I HATE YOU TOO!
(Barney slices the Director's head off. Turns toward Prettiness.)
Barney: Prettiness... Go... get... some... STICKS...
Prettiness: All right...
(Prettiness runs into the clubhouse.)
Barney: Frank, go get some matches...
Frank: Mommy says we're not supposed to play with matches.
Barney: ARGH! STUPID #$%&^* KIDS!
(Barney shoots Frank in the left eye.)
Barney: Clarise... DARLING... you'll get matches for Barney, WON'T YOU?
Clarise: Yes, sir....
(About five more minutes of nauseating activity happens.)
(After the five minutes, you see Susie's, Rover's, The Director's, and Frank's heads all on sticks that are embedded in the ground. In a circle around the sticks, Clarise, Prettiness, Gwen, and Barney are tossing the dead people's bodies around in a circle.)
Barney: See kids? Toys!
Gwen: A BETTER toy is my cell phone.
(Gwen pulls out cell phone.)
Barney: NO CELL PHONES! CELL PHONES WILL CORRUPT YOU BRAIN, JUST LIKE TV!
Gwen: We're on TV right now.
Barney: DIE GWEN DIE!
(Shoots, stabs, cuts, and beats Gwen to death. Cell phone drops to the ground. Prettiness dives for Cell Phone.)
Prettiness: I dialed 911! We're gonna be rescued, Clarise!
(Prettiness gets shot in the right eye.)
Barney: NOW I HAVE TWINS! And for you, Clarise...
(Turns toward Clarise.)
Clarise: I didn't do anything!
Barney: We're gonna learn a song!
Clarise: Ok...
Barney: AND a dance!
Clarise: Ok...
Barney: IF YOU SPIT IN YOU PARENTS' EYES, CLAP YOUR HANDS! That's where you clap your hands, Clarise! Ok, ready? IF YOU SPIT IN YOU PARENT'S EYES, CLAP YOUR HANDS!
(Barney claps hands. CLarise doesn't.)
Barney: When I say dance.... DANCE!
(Begins shooting ground at Clarise's feet. She starts energetically dancing, moving her feet in time with the bullets.)
Barney: THAT'S NOT THE DANCE I TAUGHT YOU!
(Pops a cap in her throat. At that precise moment, a police force comes busting in and tries to halt Barney. Barney is cuttin' heads off, shouting crazily, and shooting everyone. A splatter of blood hits the camera, and you can only hear the shouts of anger and pain from every person present. Screen goes black. Its over.)
So, yeah. That's what I think a Live Kids show would be like. Sickening, isn't it?
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Shades
So, as you may have noticed over the last hundred-odd posts, I have been slowly gaining a full Viking uniform, with all my added accesories and whatnot. Here's what I can remember without going through the archives:
Helmet: The Duct Tape Monstrosity
Other Head Stuff: Pipe
Weapon A: Nunchaku
Weapon B: Machete
Weapon R*: Father's Battle Ax
Most Vikings come up with their own battle uniform style, and I think I'm only just now beginning to fully come up with an awesome one. So, the next thing I'm adding to my uniform is.... a pair of really sweet shades.
You see, ever since I was a little lad, I've pined away for hours for a cool pair of sunglasses that look sweet on me. There's been only two pairs that truly fit me: The ones I broke at CVU, and the ones I piked off an Actor** today.
When I broke my Shades at CVU, I'd had 'em for a good few years until me and my roommate, Nicholas the Sharkbait, decided to take the Dean's*** shopping cart for a little joyride.
Putting on my shades, the two of us snuck out in the middle of the night and hot-wired it up. Soon, we were puttering along like two dudes in a shopping cart. Which, of course, means it was INCREDIBLY SLOW. So little old me gets an idea.
"Say, Nick," I said coolly. I said it coolly because say every coolly when you wear shades. "Why don't we take this ride over to the big hill on the east side of campus?"
"Because we could roll wildly down the hill, crash into something-or-somebody, and perish in a mteallic death," was his reply.
"What a GREAT way to die!" I cried. "Let's go!"
Taking the cart to the hill, we pushed ourselves to that little dip hills always have and began to coast down. I stuck my hands in the air and yelled, "WHOOO!" Getting caught up in the excitement, Nick yelled, "WHOOO!" We was having a blast, at least until we saw...
"A WATER SPIGOT IN OUR PATH! WE CAN'T STEER AROUND IT BECAUSE SHOPPING CARTS HAVE NO STEERING MECHANISM!" I screamed.
Nick, of course, bailed out, acting like an extremely anti-viking, since all Vikings go down with their ride... I mean, ship. SO, standing up like those Hannah-Barbara cartoon characters do when THEIR ride goes down, I closed my eyes and waited for the blow.
It came.
I lay on the ground, crying my poor eyes out. The shopping cart lay in several places all over the area, busted into a million pieces.... Or, at least, five.
Nick ran up, worry apparent on his face. "Dude, are you allright?" He frantically asked.
"I think it's broken!" I screamed.
"What, what? You arm, your leg, your foot, your head?" He cried.
I sat up. "I thought we already decided that my head IS broken," I said.
"I mean more than usual," He said.
"Oh, ok." I said. I then resumed crying. "NO, NOT ANY OF THOSE!"
"Then what IS?" Nick screamed.
"My shades!" I blubbered, holding up the now two parts.
"Is that it?" Nick said. He then whacked me in the head and took off toward our dorm room. I buried the shades in a place of rest, and was then caught by campus sercurity and taken to Lief, who gave me a stern paddling.****
But anyway, now I have a new pair of Shades. They is awesome.
NOw, for Vikings, you're only allowed to use them for three good reasons.
1.) For surveillance. Ninjas have masks to hide their true appearance, Pirates have beards to hide their true appearance*****, Firemen wear those wierd Darth Vader-Esque masks to hide their true appearance, and Superheroes wear those wierd, black mask things that only go AROUND their eyes. Now, those superhero masks are completely useless to everyone EXCEPT the other characters in the superhero's world. ANyway, I forgot where I was going with this. ANyway, shades are much better, and they add some suspense, like, "OH NO! Will he ever get his shades ripped off and be revealed?" That's why I don't like Wolverine. THERE'S NO SUSPENSE IN HIS COMICS WHATSOEVER! He could be NUKED, and still NOT DIE! The entire time, I'm sittin' there, thinkin, "Ah whatevers, he ain't gonna die anyway, I'm not worried." BORING! Now, SPIDERMAN. SPIDERMAN is suspenseful. He could get stabbed and die like a NORMAL HUMAN BEING. So there's SUSPENSE. The whole time, I'm all like, "AHHHHHHH! He's GONNA DIE!" Even though he never will. But, the difference between him and Wolverine is, at least, that fear is there.
I got side-tracxked moving on. So, first reason is Surveillance, second reason is....
2.) When you need protection for your eyes. When is that, you ask? WHENEVER THERE'S A POSSIBILITY OF SOMETHING STABBING YOU IN THE EYES. When is that, you ask? ALL THE FREAKING TIME.
And, the last one is...
3.) Whenever you want to. That's right, you should of figured out by now that VIkings aren't very selective.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*Retired
**Even as a Minor Class, Actors are deadly.
***Remember, that's Lief the Armless
****Incidentally, Nicholas the Sharkbait was the rival I mentioned in the early days of the blog, whom I killed and took his woman. Why? Probably because he ditched me this night. Or he ate my pie. I always get my grudges mixed up.
*****Sure, Vikings have beards too******, but we understand that if you really need to, you can shave it, especially for surveillance. And, since Pirates take three weeks to grow out a new beardm, and VIkings can do it in a night.
******Except for me, obviously.
Helmet: The Duct Tape Monstrosity
Other Head Stuff: Pipe
Weapon A: Nunchaku
Weapon B: Machete
Weapon R*: Father's Battle Ax
Most Vikings come up with their own battle uniform style, and I think I'm only just now beginning to fully come up with an awesome one. So, the next thing I'm adding to my uniform is.... a pair of really sweet shades.
You see, ever since I was a little lad, I've pined away for hours for a cool pair of sunglasses that look sweet on me. There's been only two pairs that truly fit me: The ones I broke at CVU, and the ones I piked off an Actor** today.
When I broke my Shades at CVU, I'd had 'em for a good few years until me and my roommate, Nicholas the Sharkbait, decided to take the Dean's*** shopping cart for a little joyride.
Putting on my shades, the two of us snuck out in the middle of the night and hot-wired it up. Soon, we were puttering along like two dudes in a shopping cart. Which, of course, means it was INCREDIBLY SLOW. So little old me gets an idea.
"Say, Nick," I said coolly. I said it coolly because say every coolly when you wear shades. "Why don't we take this ride over to the big hill on the east side of campus?"
"Because we could roll wildly down the hill, crash into something-or-somebody, and perish in a mteallic death," was his reply.
"What a GREAT way to die!" I cried. "Let's go!"
Taking the cart to the hill, we pushed ourselves to that little dip hills always have and began to coast down. I stuck my hands in the air and yelled, "WHOOO!" Getting caught up in the excitement, Nick yelled, "WHOOO!" We was having a blast, at least until we saw...
"A WATER SPIGOT IN OUR PATH! WE CAN'T STEER AROUND IT BECAUSE SHOPPING CARTS HAVE NO STEERING MECHANISM!" I screamed.
Nick, of course, bailed out, acting like an extremely anti-viking, since all Vikings go down with their ride... I mean, ship. SO, standing up like those Hannah-Barbara cartoon characters do when THEIR ride goes down, I closed my eyes and waited for the blow.
It came.
I lay on the ground, crying my poor eyes out. The shopping cart lay in several places all over the area, busted into a million pieces.... Or, at least, five.
Nick ran up, worry apparent on his face. "Dude, are you allright?" He frantically asked.
"I think it's broken!" I screamed.
"What, what? You arm, your leg, your foot, your head?" He cried.
I sat up. "I thought we already decided that my head IS broken," I said.
"I mean more than usual," He said.
"Oh, ok." I said. I then resumed crying. "NO, NOT ANY OF THOSE!"
"Then what IS?" Nick screamed.
"My shades!" I blubbered, holding up the now two parts.
"Is that it?" Nick said. He then whacked me in the head and took off toward our dorm room. I buried the shades in a place of rest, and was then caught by campus sercurity and taken to Lief, who gave me a stern paddling.****
But anyway, now I have a new pair of Shades. They is awesome.
NOw, for Vikings, you're only allowed to use them for three good reasons.
1.) For surveillance. Ninjas have masks to hide their true appearance, Pirates have beards to hide their true appearance*****, Firemen wear those wierd Darth Vader-Esque masks to hide their true appearance, and Superheroes wear those wierd, black mask things that only go AROUND their eyes. Now, those superhero masks are completely useless to everyone EXCEPT the other characters in the superhero's world. ANyway, I forgot where I was going with this. ANyway, shades are much better, and they add some suspense, like, "OH NO! Will he ever get his shades ripped off and be revealed?" That's why I don't like Wolverine. THERE'S NO SUSPENSE IN HIS COMICS WHATSOEVER! He could be NUKED, and still NOT DIE! The entire time, I'm sittin' there, thinkin, "Ah whatevers, he ain't gonna die anyway, I'm not worried." BORING! Now, SPIDERMAN. SPIDERMAN is suspenseful. He could get stabbed and die like a NORMAL HUMAN BEING. So there's SUSPENSE. The whole time, I'm all like, "AHHHHHHH! He's GONNA DIE!" Even though he never will. But, the difference between him and Wolverine is, at least, that fear is there.
I got side-tracxked moving on. So, first reason is Surveillance, second reason is....
2.) When you need protection for your eyes. When is that, you ask? WHENEVER THERE'S A POSSIBILITY OF SOMETHING STABBING YOU IN THE EYES. When is that, you ask? ALL THE FREAKING TIME.
And, the last one is...
3.) Whenever you want to. That's right, you should of figured out by now that VIkings aren't very selective.
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
*Retired
**Even as a Minor Class, Actors are deadly.
***Remember, that's Lief the Armless
****Incidentally, Nicholas the Sharkbait was the rival I mentioned in the early days of the blog, whom I killed and took his woman. Why? Probably because he ditched me this night. Or he ate my pie. I always get my grudges mixed up.
*****Sure, Vikings have beards too******, but we understand that if you really need to, you can shave it, especially for surveillance. And, since Pirates take three weeks to grow out a new beardm, and VIkings can do it in a night.
******Except for me, obviously.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Poll Results: Month 3
All right, the end of the third month! What a long time to write a blog with no readers!
With even less people voting this month, It was easy to fill this out. If you wanna make my life miserable, VOTE ALREADY! Anyway, here are the results:
Which class is the absolute BEST?
Number of Votes: 6
Vikings: 16%
Ninjas: 16%
Pirates: 16%
Clowns: 16%
Robots: 0%
Firemen: 0%
Postal Workers: 16%
Dentists: 16%
Samurai: 0%
This poll was horrible. Ihave a hunch it doesn't reflect the world AT ALL, especially since I KNOW there's robots, firemen, AND samurai still around. Anyway, next poll!
What Top-Ten Minor Class should be the next to asced to classdom?
Number of Votes: 6
Amazons: 16%
Little Kids: 0%
Used Car Salesmen: 0%
Cowboys: 16%
Waiters: 0%
Environmentalists: 32%
Public Relations Officials:
Were-Wolves: 16%
Spartans: 0%
Rock Stars: 0%
Lumberjacks: 16%
As I've said before, it doesn't matter what your opinions were, since the Classes aren't going to change their minds just because some random mortals voted on some dudes' blog. But, once again, I was disappointed in the results.
What Sub-Class are YOU?
Voters: 6
Key: Each 'Sub-Class' is either a full Sub-Class, or a partial. Full: I am a Fighter. Partial: I am a Fighter/Mage.
Fighter: 8%
Ranger: 15.5%
Mage: 15.5%
Bard: 32%
Thief: 8%
Healer: 23%
And, that wraps up this month's polls. For the fourth month, there's only going to be one poll:
WHO SHOULD ASCEND TO BE THE TENTH CLASS?
Amazons, or Little Kids?
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
With even less people voting this month, It was easy to fill this out. If you wanna make my life miserable, VOTE ALREADY! Anyway, here are the results:
Which class is the absolute BEST?
Number of Votes: 6
Vikings: 16%
Ninjas: 16%
Pirates: 16%
Clowns: 16%
Robots: 0%
Firemen: 0%
Postal Workers: 16%
Dentists: 16%
Samurai: 0%
This poll was horrible. Ihave a hunch it doesn't reflect the world AT ALL, especially since I KNOW there's robots, firemen, AND samurai still around. Anyway, next poll!
What Top-Ten Minor Class should be the next to asced to classdom?
Number of Votes: 6
Amazons: 16%
Little Kids: 0%
Used Car Salesmen: 0%
Cowboys: 16%
Waiters: 0%
Environmentalists: 32%
Public Relations Officials:
Were-Wolves: 16%
Spartans: 0%
Rock Stars: 0%
Lumberjacks: 16%
As I've said before, it doesn't matter what your opinions were, since the Classes aren't going to change their minds just because some random mortals voted on some dudes' blog. But, once again, I was disappointed in the results.
What Sub-Class are YOU?
Voters: 6
Key: Each 'Sub-Class' is either a full Sub-Class, or a partial. Full: I am a Fighter. Partial: I am a Fighter/Mage.
Fighter: 8%
Ranger: 15.5%
Mage: 15.5%
Bard: 32%
Thief: 8%
Healer: 23%
And, that wraps up this month's polls. For the fourth month, there's only going to be one poll:
WHO SHOULD ASCEND TO BE THE TENTH CLASS?
Amazons, or Little Kids?
Olaf the BAAAAALD!
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