Archive for January, 2015

Hilarious Tragedy


This little goldnugget of journalism reads “On Tuesday in Vienna a man (66) supposedly shot himself dead, and then shot his wife.”
Now either the journalist who wrote this was rather confused, or and here come the funny part of the tragedy, it happened like this:

The couple was lying in bed, she was asleep, he took out a gun from the  nightstand, pointed it at his abdomen and pulled the trigger. That doesn’t kill you right away, causing you to have a agonising relatively slow death.
Woken from the gunshot his wife jolts up, he shoots her dead and then bleeds to death.

I know it is a tragedy, and the family/friends of the couple deserve all the condolences and best wishes in the world, but this clipping, is funny as hell…

We’re Adults, aren’t we?

“Listening for prolonged times at high volumes, may cause ear damage!”

My Android devices keep patronising me when I want to turn up the volume. The setting gets saved, but after a reboot, it’s back to pestering me!

We are fracking adults, I’m an adult! STOP TREATING ME LIKE A CHILD!

Your common sense dictates, you won’t cross the street without checking for traffic first. This is taught to children, we don’t need to be reminded everytime we’re about to cross a road as an adult.
It’s the same with all the rest.

There isn’t a warning on my stove telling me that touching the plates will burn me. There aren’t planes flying around on sunny days with banners “Don’t look into the sun, it may cause blindness!”

“Don’t text and drive” – this is common sense, stop reminding us.
“Coffee is hot!” – Really? I mean, REALLY???

I know that allegedly some old hag in the US sued McDonalds because she spilled hot coffee in her lap and burned herself. Instead of ruling in her favor the judge should’ve looked her in the eye and told her she can either drop the case and get away with attempted fraud, or if she doesn’t, she will get a legal guardian and put in a care facility for grown people with the mental abilities of a small child!

People who sue companies for NOT warning from obvious shit, your common sense should warn you from, they all need a guardian, and treatment in a care facility.
And to be on the safe side, for the duration of their stay, give them contraception (pill for women, stevia for men) so these cretins won’t procreate and drop babies on their heads because there wasn’t a warning…

So, again, TREAT US LIKE ADULTS! For frak’s sake…

Floral/Fungal Journal – 3 Travels (ep08)

There was a group of large tents, gathering tents as she would’ve called them, men and women of all races she knew were inside them, in one she found even a floral woman sitting in a corner, a fungal man stood by her side as if he was her guardian. “We must strike at the heart of the Guard’s empire.” a furious Fungal man exclaimed, by his side stood Shedomus, trying to calm him. “General Brysus, please calm your voice.” a human male stepped to the table they were gathered around. “Though I agree with you that the empire must be punished, we certainly can not mount an operation of this magnitude,” he was cut off as an Albin woman at the table raised her hand. “We will deal with the Fungal Guards, once and for all, as soon as the threat of invasion by the Chimeras has been dealt with.” she glanced to her human counterpart. “And we recognize that you only represent the kingdom of Midheim, but perhaps the circle can raise the other human nations when needed, just as it was promised for the invasion of the Chimeras.” she sighed, belittled the human general turned from the table mumbling something in his native tongue. “General Kaya, this young floral has entered the camp, wishing to travel abroad.” the Floral in the corner and the general both raised their heads and stared at Nicodia. “Lost relatives?” the Albin immediately assumed. With a glance at Shedomus, Nicodia stepped forward. “Itchy feet, Ma’am. I wish to travel to the pole. I feel drawn away from these lands.” the Floral in the corner and her fungal bodyguard exchanged a puzzled look. Stunned the general stood up right at the table. “Are you serious?” Nicodia did not reply verbally but with a destinct nod. Slowly the Floral in the corner of the tent got up, the Fungal staying around her like a shadow. “What is your name?” Nicodia realized only at that moment that the woman had no hands, and the Fungal at her side, ever like a shadow, was bearing a guilty expression underneath the neutral mask he had transformed his expressions into. “Nicodia.” A smile appeared on the lips of the woman slowly approaching her. Uncertain whether she was crazed or not Nicodia had to battle the urge to flee from her. “My name is Xavani, and this is my friend Eidomus. What draws you to the pole?” A stressful time lay behind Xavani and Eidomus, they had toured most of the island to promote the urgency that Floral women donate nectar, or at least sell it, to the Albin and the Humans. She knew that she had by far not reached all villages and towns, but many of them, from there on out the word should spread out to smaller settlements and untouched villages. “I do not know, ever since I heard of it, I feel drawn there. Proving that our people are not just docile, forest dwelling, nectar dispensaries.” Xavani felt thunderstruck, the ambitions of this young girl were right, but came at the most inconvenient of times, as she herself was promoting the sharing of the nectar. Eidomus nudged Xavani slightly as he interpreted her painful look. For a moment he whispered in her ear, glancing to Nicodia.   “If you insist to go to the pole, there will be an expedition going there, starting from the captial of the Fungal Republic.” Xavani leaned in to her, clearly noticing a bolt of fear that went through Nicodia as she mentioned the capital. “If you are up to it, you can go.” she hissed. it seemed to Xavani as if the thoughts were clearly visible as they ran through Nicodias mind. “I shall go.” although agitated at first Nicodia had calmed herself, at least superficially, as she replied. Recognizing her bravery Xavani nodded, leaning back again. “I will come with you to the capital, whether or not we will be visiting the pole together is an entirely other story.” she sighed, returning to her seat.

Floral/Fungal Journal – 3 Travels (ep07)

Groups of Albin, Humans and Fungals marched through the camp, upon the sight of her each group stopped for a moment, staring in disbelief. All had seen Florals before, but unless they had to be brought to camp for treatment of injuries, or to be debriefed concerning their origin, none ever just came to the camp and entered it on their own. “Can we help you?” a friendly smiling Albin woman stopped her on the broad main road through the camp. “I seek a way of this land, perhaps even a way to the pole?” perplexed by Nicodias wish the Albin woman inched back a little. As far as her knowledge went, it had been the first time a floral wanted off the island. “That is an unusual request, I would have to bring you to the generals of this camp.” certain enough that the young floral before her was simply crazed she put on a friendly non-threatening smile. “Nicodia?!” hurled around by the strangely familiar voice Nicodia felt thunderstruck. Hanna! A distraught expression around her eyes told Nicodia that she had been keeping an eye out for the missing young Floral. She just hoped that none of the villagers held her responsible for her missing. “Hanna.” Nicodias voice was thin and uneasy. “Your father is worried sick, he presumes you have been robbed by some of the remaining Guards on the island! He is wandering the land with a rake in search for them!” Hanna rushed to her, ready to slap her, but refrained from doing so. “Can you tell him that I am not? I want to leave, Both’anah holds nothing of interest for me anymore.” she sighed, her shoulders hung down low, as her head. Gently Hanna grabbed the Floral’s chin and raised her head. For a moment she stared into the eyes of the young woman. “I shall rely your message to your father, but upon my return you better be gone, for he will come with me to take you home, that much I can guarantee.” she sounded distressed, relieved and worried. “Don’t worry,” Nicodia thought, “I will be off this island.” “Yes.” she spoke still with thin voice, not matching her proud thoughts. “Do you still wish to meet the generals?” Nicodia was surprised to find that the Albin had been waiting all the time. Again she replied with “Yes”, a lot more confidence in her voice than a moment before.

Life ain’t that hard: “Tell me I’m pretty!”

“Tell me I’m pretty” – You ugly ass skanks should crawl back under the boulders you came out from.

I already have talked about generation memeME here.

Self absorbed asshats who couldn’t take a picture of a sunset if they had three-thousand cameras set up for them, all pointing at the Horizon. Unless they were in the foreground and the main focus of their own picture.

Why the return to a topic that I haven’t changed my opinion on?


Now there is a stick, with which you can put more distance between yourself and the camera, while still showing that it was YOU who took the picture.
That you are an imbecile with a tool now!
A tool with which you can be beaten.
And should be.

As always in my LATH posts, I have a solution to the problem:

Step 1, take the stick, mount your camera/cellphone/tablet/whatever and turn it ON. Choose a setting with which you can take a hundred pictures in a row.
Step 2, hold the stick firmly in both your hands, and start bashing the camera/etc. against your face. DO NOT STOP! Even if you are bleeding heavily, you only stop once you’ve fallen unconscious.
Step 3, after being released from the hospital, go home to your blood smeared stick and cam, charge it, clean it, and
Step 4, insert the stick, camera/etc. first into your anal cavity.
Go in there.
Step 5, retrieve camera/etc. and stick, and repeat Step 2.
Step 6, you’ll wake up in a hospital. Again. You will have a nasty infection and are probably restrained. This is where you must lie now. Reflect on your life. On all the bad decisions that led you to that point. And I’m not talking about the bashing, as those were my instructions.
When did what go so hofibly wrong in your life, that it led you to take dozens, sometimes hundreds of pictures of yourself PER DAY?
There are people getting hurt, injured and some even die, taking selfies.

What is next? After the Selfiestick, I mean? We’re done with the therapy now, let’s get back to the stick.
Will they make a stick that you mount your cellphone on that you can wear like a GoPro, then you hang on a rockwall and yell “Ok Google, snap picture!” and you let go of the rock to make a great picture. It is automaticall uploaded to your facebook, your vain and shallow “friends” like the shit and congratulate you.
Only to be informed by your family that hikers found your mangled dead corpse at the base of that mountain three weeks after you snapped that picture.
“Great job, Tymmi!” I just hope that in that case your selfie will be used in the obituary.

Take care and rest in pieces,

Floral/Fungal Journal – 3 Travels (ep06)

They passed through the republic like wind, unnoticed and unopposed, laid low waiting for winter they then simply walked over, not even needing ships!” Shedomus threw his habds in the air in disbelief. The conjurers in the republic also were stricken by the disappearance of their powers, but why the guards would risk dire consequences by invading the Florals was beyond him. “So you see, we should have stopped them.” Nicodia realized tgat she still was biting on her fingertips, just as she always had when told a fascinating story. Ashamed of such childish behavior she slowly drew hands behind her back. “You, your people didn’t know, they fooled you. So it wasn’t your fault!” Nicodia had found her non-stammering voice again. Shedomus sighed heavily, he still felt guilty for the atrocities the guards had committed. Having found her confidence again Nicodia turned to the ocean, spreading her arms to the sides to receive as much sunlight as possible. For a Floral the sun bathing was more than a ritual, but pure bliss. Even during the invasion and brief occupation, she had found the time to follow the sun, if the skies allowed for it, and bask in the warming, golden light that the heavens poured down upon her. “I want to go where wind now blows, straight east.” feeling his plea for forgiveness as not accepted, because unwarranted, Shedomus turned into the direction of the rising sun too, sighing once more.”There in the distance, one can’t see it from here, or the edges of the mainlands,” he pounted to thinly visible stripes of land in the north and south, “lies only the pole. As I recall from Albin rumors a desolate place. Few trees, no bushes, a little grass and lots and lots of rocks, sharp as knives. No one lives there.”Nicodia lifter her head in a proud manner. “Then I shall go there, live there for a year, to prove that we Florals are in fact not docile, forest dwelling, nectar dispensaries!” even though the Albin and Humans treated them with respect, most of them who came in contact with the Florals thought of them in a similar way. “First you’ll need a ship. Not a boat that you could learn to maneuver all by yourself, a ship. Something the towering waves, that are fuelled by the raging winds, wouldn’t throw over. Then you’d need food, I know you can harvest the sunlight and soak up nutrition from beneath your feet,” again Shedomus made just a vague gesture, “but the pole is allegedly mostly cloudy and has little sunshine.” he smiled softly as he suddenly shook his head. “I will return to the camp, it is the one where Humans and Albin are located too, you are welcome to accompany me.” he turned away, stopping dead in his tracks. “I didn’t mean to discourage you, I was as eager to see the world as you are, to some degree I still am. It is no accident some of my people call me Shedomus the traveler!” he smiled warmly before walking away, leaving Nicodia to her thoughts once again. Without looking or paying attention to his steps in the grass she knew he walked away and soon was gone. Although he seemed like a nice person all together, she still harboured some distrust for him. For all of the outlanders.Staring out to the waves she sighed, it was of no use, Shedomus was right, she needed a ship. Slightly discouraged she turned inland, the gentle winds swayed bush and tree. Shaking lose fruit, leaf and blossom. As if he had left a clearly visible road Nicodia followed Shedomus’ steps, directed at the camp she had avoided before. Clouds drifted across the blue canvas of the heavens above, paired with a strong wind from the west, swaying the tall grass near the encampment in waves like the waters of the ocean. Nicodia was surprised to find the bodies of the guards gone. But the soldiers of the Albin and the Humans who guarded the camp were equally surprised to see her walking up to them.”I wish to enter if I may.” she held her head up right not looking at them directly. Making not much of a fuss, they parted before her, revealing a camp that was poorer than her village. Tents, ragged by the weather, stood in long rows, leaving room for roads in rectangular lines. The unnatural order of the structure of the camp hurt Nicodias sense of order. Reluctantly she directed her steps inside the camp, seeking out the largest.

Floral/Fungal Journal – 3 Travels (ep05)

It sailed eastwards on the gusts, along with spores from mosses, fungi, pollen from flowers, bushes and trees blossoms, carried away. Nicodia stared at the sea in front of her. Gently dancing upon the waves was the reflection of the rising sun. A week had passed since she had left her home, to her surprise there was little to be seen in the woods, villages were scarce. Most of the floral people she had encountered were as distrustful as the folks in her own home. Instinctively she had avoided the strong smell of fungals, although in one instance she had to come into visual range. The camp she spotted was manned with Albin, humans and fungals. Not imprisoned fungal guards but free, armed fungals. For a moment she wanted to run home in order to tell her father but then a group of imprisoned fungals with insignia of the guards was lead to the camp by a group of humans. Immediately the fungals in the camp raised their arms. There was no trial held, immediately the prisoners were executed by the fungal camp members. Shocked by the sight she beheld Nicodia wandered on until she reached the ocean. Still the west wind blew from behind her, stocked upwith smells from her homeland, in addition to the foreign smells it carried with it. “A young floral girl like yourself shouldn’t wander alone through these parts.” the voice sent chills down Nicodias spine, slowly she turned to the origin of these words. A man with the ashen complexion of a fungal stood a few meters away from her, Nicodia felt petrified with terror although nowhere did the elderly man bear the insignia of the guards. “Don’t be alarmed, I came from the fungal republic, an enemy state of the guards. But there are still a few guards roaming these lands, hence my initial statement.” he smiled, the tired and sad hint around his mouth caused Nicodia to loosen up a bit. “Let me introduce myself, I am Shedomus of the foothills.” he bowed before her, a gesture the guards had demanded from imprisoned florals, she had seen it from afar. “Nicodia.” she stammered reluctantly. Again a faint smile appeared on his lips. “It is none of my business, but may I ask what brought you here?” turning slowly Nicodia looked out to the sea, she did not know how to put her motivation into words. “Let me guess: Curiosity for the unknown, itchy feet as the humans say!” Shedomus had also turned to the sea, teetering on his feet he had his hands crossed behind his back. Nicodia couldn’t suppress a chuckle at his quote of the human phrase. “It is what had made me volunteer for this, despite my old age.” he pointed behind himself referring to Both’anah. With a sadder expression he turned back to her. “If you have suffered at the hands of the guardsmen, I wish to apologize! We as a society have failed you our neighbors, for not stopping them soon enough!” surprise and shock in her face Nicodia inched away from the elderly Fungal. “I don’t understand.” again she could only stammer as she spoke. Quickly Shedomus explained to her that the majority of he fungal people were not involved in the invasion of Both’anah. “In the northern most region of our territory was a mountain range that once harboured the fungus. It controlled all of us, or rather our ancestors, close to no one alive then, still lives today. As we expanded into the formerly Albin territory the fungus grew, you can imagine that we expanded rapidly and violently.” Nicodia nodded, she bit on her fingertips while listening to Shedomus as they had sat down, completely ignoring the ever rising sun in the east. “The Albin started to fight back, and did so quite remarkably, they fought with magic fire, yours as well as our people are vulnerable to fire even more than a human or an Albin. Back then, all one fungal experienced was experienced by all, including the great fungus.” he sighed, swayed between relief and woefullness for said connection. “The Albin sent a group of Griffin riders into the heart of our society, burning through the guards around the fungus they poisoned and thus killed it. Soon after the republic formed and peace between the Albin and the Fungals began. But in the mountain range around the remainders of the great fungus soon thereafter a movement began, fungals that wanted to revive tge fungus, lose their free will and return to the way it has been. They soon claimed a portion of the land for their own, mostly the mountain range and its foothills, and declared independence from the republic. They call themselves the fungal guards and their landlocked nation the Fungus empire.” he shook his head, thinking tgat the Albin had a right to call their lands an empire as they had no divided nations like the humans, and they were not landlocked. Shaking his distracting thoughts off he looked back the young floral girl in front of him. “To invade your homeland they had to encroach on ours first.

Athena & Odin

A cold and stormy winter night had fallen onto the forest where Athena the barn owl lives. She wanted to get to town, the little boy could hardly fall asleep without her cuddling him.
But snowfall was dense, she could not see where to go! The roads and sidewalks were covered under a thick blanket of snow as well. Her friends Teddy the bear and Otto Ferdinand the frog, were fast asleep in their cosy beds.
Desperate she flew around the edge of the forest, how could she get to the little boy? A hoot, much like her own, startled her. “He-hello?” She hooted back.
“Hello.” Barely visible against the snow a white owl perched on a branch not far. Curious she sat down next to him. “I’m Athena, the barn owl. I need to find my way to the little boy, he can’t sleep without me by his side!”
“I’m Odin, the snow owl. I can show you the way, in this weather I can find it easily.” He hooted with a smile in his eyes.
Athena flew right behind him, through gusts of wind, filled with flakes of snow. Over hilltops, streets and cops of trees, covered thickly with snow. She had to keep her eyes on Odin’s darker feathers, or else she might have lost him white against white.
“Here!” He hooted at a windowsill, eagerly small hands reached out. “We have arrived.”
Both he and Athena were grabbed, and held tightly against a tiny chest, with care and love until there was nothing but a night’s well deserved rest.

Floral/Fungal Journal – 3 Travels (ep04)

Sycena listened carefully to the words of the human as she continued to tell her of rumors about the Albin who supposedly had a way out of the dilemma. “Word is that they have an artifact called an eye or an ord with which to make a defense against the invasion. But also that they are looking for another artifact, a root of some sorts.” Sycenas attention was raised, roots sounded like something she was interested in. She and all her people. Many wondered where they had come from, floral people themselves as well as others. “But those are rumors, they probably aren’t even true.” Hanna smirked, hoping they were true, as the circle either had no idea how to fend off the impending invasion, or the circle left the majority of its members in the dark.   Outside Fethomus’ hut was a small bench of stone, well within earshot of the fire at the village center. Nicodia listened carefully to the two women converse, as her father tried to keep her in the dark about the outside world. Some of the young growth of the village had developed an interest in the world and abandoned the village shortly after the fungal guards retreat. Fethomus feared his daughter might as well. “that is at least the legend of the sandtree. Whether it truly is our origin, I don’t know, but that is how the legend has it.” Sycena sighed, she and Hanna knew that they had an audience. “I will soon depart, other villages might have loved ones they want looked after in case they wound up in the fungal guards camps.” Hanna prepared her bag as pillow and her cape as blanket, right where she had sat, much to the surprise of Sycena. Reluctantly she laid down too. “You will leave us after the sun has risen?” “Yes, though this is an island, it’s vast and I don’t have much help.”   Sycena raised her head into the changing wind. The steady northward breeze turned with the winds from the west. “Summer will arrive soon. The wind is changing.” she stated dryly, watching a firefly in the distance.   Nicodia sighed softly, after the voices had stayed silent for some time. Careful as to not nake a sound she got up from the bench. Her mind was set, the world her father had to offr was to small, she wanted more, as the others who had left the village. Gusts of wind brought only the fresh nightly smell of the forest, the grasses and flowers, blooms and mosses, even the bonds, creeks and rivers. Faintly the last breezes from the south carry a dry note of sand and sun, mixing with tbe western breezes of the sea, salt and watervapor carrying smells of Seaweed, ships, sailors of Man and Albin, cargo and imprisoned fungal guards. Nicodia watched the wind carry off a leaf that had been torn from where it grew.

Floral/Fungal Journal – 3 Travels (ep03)

“But I have to say it is too bad your people wouldn’t trade the recipe for the nectar. Even with all this distrust, we would not turn against you, nor would we let it fall into the hands of anyone who might.” the woman who had spoken with Hanna the moment before turned to Fethomus, who looked at her. All of a sudden the entirety of the assembled people had an amused smirk on their faces. “You dont know where the nectar comes from?” she chuckled. Raising one eyebrow Hanna shook her head, but feared the worst. The floral woman leaned in forming a funnel with her hands to whisper in Hannas ear. Surprise, as well as a little disgust appeared on her face, much the entertainment of the others. “I think I won’t ever touch it again.” Hanna shook herself in disgust, while the entire assembly laughed in an amused manner. “The Albin found out ages ago, but kept it secret, in its pure form the nectar has some side effects, so I hope we can count on your discretion as well?” Hanna nodded, she was torn whether she wanted to know about these side effects or not. “For today we have shocked our guest enough, I think.” Fethomus got up, turning to his hut. Basically consisting of beds, a fire place and a nursing patch. “At least I will end my day.” “The Jal’bothan has an effect on men, it stimulates their passion and lust, in male carnals like yourself, it amplifies the lust to unknown heights.” Sycena sat at the fire with Hanna long after Fethomus had gone to bed, most of the villagers had left soon after, until only Hanna and Sycena were left. “I think I have heard enough.” Hanna laughed, after Sycena elaborated how the Nectar can sometimes be used to glue man and woman together in the act, in order to increase the likelihood of fertilisation.Both women sat at the dying fire staring into the ever decreasing flames. Hanna had shared the news she had received from the circle, everything about the vanishing magic, the refugees from the realm of the demons as the sphinxes were marching through it in order to return to the world, and why it was thus important to supply the mages of man and Albin with nectar. “I have heard of heros all my life,” Hanna sighed, wondering she stared at the charred logs, “but not one of them was a simple man who had saved the world, or what ever was at stake, by doing his mundane tasks.” suddenly she felt Sycenas cool hand on her own. “You have.” she smiled. “Every Floral woman that gives your people her Jal’bothan. I can think of no deed more mundane than harvesting your own nectar.” Hanna begun smiling faintly. “Your people, who farm and hunt for troops and mages, who mine minerals, forge them, weave clothing from fiber and fur, who are doing their mundane task day in, day out, supplying you with food, clothes and weaponry, making the resistance against the sphinxes possible. They are heroes!”Hannas smile deteriorated away. “Unnamed heroes.” she sighed, but squeezed the reassuring hand.”Now you know much more about our kind than we know of the world. Tell me what is happening out side our island?” she ebded the sentence abruptly, a few seasons ago she and others would have said “island paradise”, the invasion of the fungal guards had changed that, until all wounds healed, none of the inhabitants of Both’anah would call their home paradise. “Magic has vanished as you know, that alone would leave our kind in chaos, the circle has declined from an organization of mages and religious institution, into a religious institution only.” she pointed at the tattoo of a circle on her wrist as she spoke. “The scholars think that this is a telltale sign that an ancient enemy of all life is preparing to return, the sphinxes. All magic around them withers. Apparently the demons who share a realm with them think so too, trying to invade our world, prior to the vanishing of all magic. Those who stayed here turned mortal. One even died after her wings became redundant!” she remembered reports from a nunnary near Cliffton.