|Tshirt size: Unisex L-XL|
But really, Amazon wishlist is way better:
Princess Moxie and the UsurperIt was a typical day in the Kingdom of New Underbed. The lamp was shining and the roof was open to an angle that some might call obtuse (although they'd be wrong; it was still just about in the region of acute - in fact it only opened to ninety degrees). The princess herself was lounging back upon a bed of towels and scavenged clothing, keeping a close eye on her many subjects. Squeaky the pig stood guard by the entrance, his voicebox torn out as a warning to the world about traitors and what she would do to them. A noseless lion cub watched his back with one and a half eyes (all it had), while a tiger with half a tail and a chunk missing from its ear watched its back. Sammy Spider, the royal fly-catcher, cowered in one corner. He was understandably rather anxious about moving while under her gaze.Princess Moxie and the Usurper by TheSkaBoss
Princess Moxie liked to think of herself as a kind and just Queen (even though she was only a Princess), whom all her subjects loved and adored. Her subjects always backed her up on t
ZebahIt rained on the night my brother disappeared. You might think that's not worth mentioning, but when you live in a desert rainfall is a huge deal. I'd never seen it rain before that night. Course, I don't have all that many years to my name, but my Granddad swears he's never seen it rain other than that night either, and he must be a thousand years old. What he reckons happened is, right, that my brother's disappearance is what caused the rain. Like he was some sort of sacrifice or something. He said it's what we get for naming him Zebah, but I don't know what he means by that.Zebah by TheSkaBoss
I'll ask my Mom later; she's the one who named him. She's busy taking advantage of the rain right now though; we were in dire need of it and she's storing as much as she can. I never knew we had so many containers lying around! She must have been saving them for quite some time.
Richard IncarceratedRichard 'That Weird Kid' Smith* was having a rough time of it. Stuck in his swank and roomy prison cell with its beautiful and luxurious furnishings, he brooded endlessly about all the brooding he wasn't being allowed to do. Day in and day out his jailer kept up a cheerful countenance, regaling him with happy stories, smiles and laughter that Richard returned soured, if at all.Richard Incarcerated by TheSkaBoss
The cheerful monotony continued unbroken for so long that Richard had completely lost track of the days by the time something new happened; a glowing parchment floating down through the air in front of him - seemingly from the Heavens, but if so he had no idea how it had managed to pass through the ceiling. Inspecting the seal, he found it to be one he didn't recognise - a triangle, with a perpendicular line jutting out in the centre of each side, and a crescent moon in the middle. Curious, he opened the scroll.
"Dear Richard Imperator Mortui: You've got mail. If you wish to read it, you must first register for
Long Bet"Oh, you poor, puny Earthling." I shake my head in pity and reach out to it, but of course my mandible just hits the screen and they carry on with their little dramas, blissfully unaware of my ever-watching presence.Long Bet by TheSkaBoss
I've never understood why they broadcast their ship's logs in this way. It surely can't be good for their security. My current leading theory is that it's a show of arrogance; a long display of their wit and bravery designed to both intimidate their enemies and show that they really would prefer peace, if given the option. Broken up into short 'episodes' in such a way as to make for easy digestion of the information.
I admired it, if I'm being truthful. I had fallen in love with this immature, playful species and their shenanigans. So much so that I had followed their signal here all the way from Phryllaryxxkilai, many light years away. I had brought with me many approximations of things I had seen Earthlings using on the screen - my way of showing them that I had read and
CSWW and the Bratwurst ConfusionThe angry mob of villagers was approaching fast, each brandishing an enormous bratwurst like a weapon. Cedric the seriously weedy Wizard was in big trouble. Drawing his own, much smaller, sausage from its sheath where his dagger used to reside, he pointed it in the vague direction of the mob and scrambled backwards onto his horse. His horse, just as weedy and wimpy as he was and very unused to its new role as getaway vehicle, bolted before he could mount it properly. He slid off its back and was deposited in a large mud puddle, just in time for the mob to reach him.CSWW and the Bratwurst Confusion by TheSkaBoss
"Oi!" the big, burly blacksmith in front shouted, "Cedric! You bloody great git of a bleedin' wizard! What the 'eck do ya think you're doing to our tools?!" He thrust the gigantic bratwurst he was holding in Cedric's muddy face.
It smelt of fire, and charred pieces flecked down on top of Cedric. He suspected the blacksmith had been in the middle of forging something when his spell had backfired. "I-I-I-," he stammered, and
Oedipus"I'll give you an easy one to start with; Dog."Oedipus by TheSkaBoss
"Very good. Sea."
"Hrm, yes. Mother."
"I see, and just for argument's sake; Oedipus."
"Interesting. Would you care to elaborate on that?"
"Well, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying it's perfectly okay to go around killing your father and marrying your mother, but everyone seems to think he knew what he was doing at the time; that it was intentional."
"You mean, he didn't intend to kill anybody?"
"No, I mean he didn't intend to do anything to his parents. He didn't know they were his parents. For God's sake, what do they teach you guys at Psychology School?"
"I believe it would take me longer than the 50 minutes we have left to answer that question. Maybe we should go back to the word association. Father."
"Look, from his point of view, Oedipus went out of his way to avoid harming his parents."
"Hrm. You seem rather intent on defending Oedipus. Tell me, were you close to your mo
Jerky"I don't see why we should build a fire anyway. Surely all that will do is pinpoint our location to anyone looking for it." Darren grumbled as he searched for firewood nearby.Jerky by TheSkaBoss
"Yeah, because there are so many people out looking for us. No, you fuckin' dumbass, our main danger out here is wild animals, and what are they afraid of? Fire. So build us a fucking fire, right?" Cody was even grumpier as he had the far harder task of putting up the tent. So far, he'd managed to put up a tangle.
It took a while but eventually they had a small fire burning, and what amounted to a bundle of canvas draped over the branches of the nearest tree, propped up with poles. It wasn't exactly a waterproof or draughtproof tent, but it was certainly roomy.
They intended to keep a watch, but they each thought the other was on first shift and they both fell asleep oblivious, expecting to be woken up in a few hours for their turn. They were, in fact, both woken up about the time they were expectin
Back To The Real WorldI typed furiously on my modified laptop, trying to vamp up to the required pace of eighty-eight words per minute. I reached it, engaging the WTFux Capacitor, and immediately felt the world changing around me as I moved through fiction.Back To The Real World by TheSkaBoss
I'd started writing in the middle of a peaceful meadow that belonged to a world whose inhabitants were short and fat with hairy feet, and by the time I closed the laptop I was sitting on a bench in a busy high-rise city. Perfect, I thought to myself, knowing full well that it wasn't. But it was the closest approximation I could come to; if anyone could get me out of this mess it would be someone in a futuristic sci-fi world, even if it was likely that I'd just stumbled into a dystopia.
I wandered through the streets at random, hoping to come across a place that dealt with advanced enough technology that they might understand when I tried to explain. I failed at that, but did come across a PC hardware store and popped in just in case.
A Problem Shared"The prognosis isn't good." The doctor frowned at the clipboard in his hands and avoided looking me in the eyes. At least he had the courtesy to look upset by the bad news he had to deliver, unlike the last guy I'd seen. "I'm afraid you've only got three months, at best."A Problem Shared by TheSkaBoss
I nodded, thanked him, and walked out of there. His was the third opinion I'd sought and it probably wouldn't be the last. The tests were Schrodinger's Cats in my mind - in the time between them being taken and me seeing the results, I lived in limbo; both terminally ill and miraculously in remission at the same time.
I left the Doctor's office a terminally ill man again, and the first thing any real man does when he becomes a terminally ill man is to get himself well and truly hammered. I complied with the traditions of my elders and betters, finding myself a new pub to drown my sorrows in, as I'd already flooded all my usual haunts with them.
The pub I'd selected was a cosy little one tucked away from the main stree
The Bouncing Princess"Come on, Daddy! Tell me a stoooory." Little Kaylee bounced on the bed while she said this, clearly not ready to sleep yet.The Bouncing Princess by TheSkaBoss
"Nope, sorry. I only tell bedtime stories to little girls who are already tucked up in bed." Kaylee's dad leaned back in his chair and folded his arms, clearly not in any hurry.
"But I can't sleep without a stooooory!"
"You also can't sleep while bouncing." The corners of his mouth jerked up as he tried to hold back the smile.
"But...but...but!" Kaylee stared all around the room, looking for inspiration for her argument. She spotted her favourite book on the nightstand and grinned. "But I can't stop bouncing until you tell me my favouritest stoooory!"
"Oh, you can't? And why's that?"
"'Cause the mean old nasty witch put a spell on me!" Kaylee giggled and bounced higher.
Her dad groaned. "Oh alright then, what's your favouritest story?"
"The Princess and the Peeeeeeaa!"
"Okay then. Once upon a time there was this princess, and she needed a pee before bedtime
Soldier Ex MachinaSoldier Ex Machina by SRSmith
The soldier sat on the corner of his footlocker in the virtually empty barracks, the barrel of his sidearm pressed against his temple.
A respectful distance away, Major Ramses watched the younger man calmly, speaking in soothing tones with a Southern accent.
"Son, you don't have to do this. There are people here that can help you, whatever it is you're feeling..."
The soldier cut him off. "That's the problem, sir. I don't feel. There are soldiers in my unit that bleed, that scream, that cry sometimes when people die, but I don't do any of that. And then there's this." He trailed off and raised his left arm into the light. Where the skin had been burned away, metal braided fabric showed through underneath. "I don't know what the hell I am, but I'm sure as hell not one of you."
Ramses raised his shoulders in a shrug. "Don't be so sure," he chuckled. "Look, son, we've been patching you boys up with all kinds of new medical tech. You got shot up pretty bad, and you were out for a while. Th
ProtoProto by SRSmith
Geff opened and closed his eyes. The darkness was absolute, so neither state made a difference. He could feel rather than hear the thin air screaming past his projectile encasement, launched as it was from near the edge of the atmosphere at a target halfway around the globe from where he strapped in.
If the engineers had missed one calculation, if the production crew had misaligned one scrap of material.
Now was not the time to think of such things.
Geff gauged the time from the insertion and readied himself for braking and impact, for it was the time to think of those things.
Anyone at the airfield looking at radar would see nothing, his vessel entirely organic. No metal, no electronics, a bernoulli laser guidance system lit the target and optics and thermally activated flaps course corrected on the way down.
It was the highest tech brute force incursion vehicle Geff had ever seen.
As pressure marked a set altitude, explosives deployed flaps and chute panels, slowing the multi mach de
Bad IdeaJune 16 2010Bad Idea by raspil
Nina wasn't used to dates that could be perceived by others as "going well". It was usually some drive-through and screwing after a sixer of tallboys back at his place. She never wanted them to know where she lived.
She sat on Ben's couch in her t-shirt and underwear, watching him walk around his apartment in her skirt. He didn't have any beer. Over drinks at Louie's, he said he didn't drink.
There's something about alcohol that brings out the worst in me
She doubted sobriety was a good alternative.
"So you don't have anything here? No wine, no old vodka, nothing?" she asked, crossing her legs, feeling warm night air from an open window blush across her skin.
He did a series of plies. "I told you, I don't drink."
"So what do you do, motherfucker?"
He was unmoved by her curse. "I dance. It makes me happy."
Nina shook her head. "Jesus Fucking Ass on Thursday.
Things in this picture:|
Me. Dog. Wheelchair. Lots of purple. (Big fat) Book. Coke.
THIS IS EVERYTHING I CARE ABOUT (except boyfriend who is behind the camera)
My Alphabet Soup: EDS III, FMS, POTS, IBS, GERD, LPR, CAWP, AuPD, GAD, MDD, C-PTSD, DID
GreyscaleInsanity is never black and white.
You don't just reach a breaking point and crack,
As if your 'sane' switch flipped from white to black
And madness took you over overnight.
It's more a subtle shifting in your sights
And thoughts that run a little off the track.
At first you plow on through, pick up the slack,
At first you know that something isn't right.
Subconsciously you bury it inside,
Put on a happy mask to face the world.
You act like nothing's wrong, you act alright -
Now 'wrong' is your 'alright'; you never lied.
You find your truth distorted, bent and curled;
To you your greyscaled madness shines pure white.
I Am The GhostI am the ghost that walks these halls,
The noises you hear behind the walls,
The swirls and eddies that chill the air,
The squeaks and creaks upon the stairs.
I am the presence that makes your skin crawl.
I come in the night when the darkness falls.
Black is my colour, and black are my calls,
Black are the shadows I always wear.
I am the ghost.
I am the thoughts you don't want to recall,
The ones you recoil from, shocked and appalled.
I am all of your secret fears and despairs,
Every anxious thought, every burden you bear.
I am the you that scrawls all over these walls -
I am the ghost.
|YES YOU! RIGHT THERE!|
If you're about to leave a comment I KNOW you can see this box! Stop right there and think about what you're doing! If you're about to thank me for something - DON'T.
Don't thank me for a llama, just return the favour.
Don't thank me for a fav or a watch. You're not obligated to return the favour either. But if you really WANT to thank me, I'd much prefer you take the time to read just one thing of mine. You don't have to fave it, you don't have to comment on it, just read it. That's all I ask.
FROM THIS POINT ONWARDS I WILL BE HIDING ALL THANK YOU COMMENTS.