#028 - The Call, part 3

Autobot Archives (a.k.a. The Library)

Safeguard: You're looking for WHAT?


Hot Rod: Actually, Mirage is looking for the gaming dice. They aren't in the lounge. I thought--


Safeguard: You just thought you would pester me. Well, I'll check in back just to get you out of my way.


Mirage: Thanks for helping me track these dice down, man. There's--like, no way I coulda done it on my own.

Hot Rod: I know.


Grimlock: Me, Grimlock, have bad news for you, Hot Rod. My Chemical Romance CD checked out already.

Hot Rod: Would you stop with the emo thing, already? MCR are not even emo!


Grimlock: Calm down! Me, Grimlock, don't need anyone cutting on themselves.

Hot Rod: You know what? If you weren't constantly in that ridiculous lizard mode, I might care about what you have to say.


Safeguard: Be quiet, you two! This is a quiet study area.

Hot Rod: Did you find the dice?


Safeguard: No. What I have here is far more . . . disturbing.

Hot Rod: Let's see.

Safeguard: Only if you insist.


Grimlock: What THAT!

Safeguard: Cycles ago my counterpart began investigating a series of isolated cults scattered throughout Earth's civilizations and its history. He became obsessed. He was convinced there was a connection. His only evidence was this image.

Hot Rod: What happened to him?

Safeguard: I haven't seen him in ten cycles.

Mirage: What's this have to do with dice, man?

Safeguard: Our entire gaming catalog was empty except for this.


Hot Rod: Safeguard, it looks like we may find out what happened to your counterpart. Mirage, we're heading out!


Mirage: Should I--like, tell the guys to just order in or something?

#027 - The Call, part 2

Hot Rod: . . . *sighs* . . .


Autobot Headquarters (the lounge)

Hot Rod: . . . *sighs* . . .


Grimlock: Hey, Hot Rod! Why you sighing? You no breathe. You want attention?


Grimlock: Me, Grimlock, will listen to you, Hot Rod.

Hot Rod: The LAST thing I need is to confide in YOU.


Grimlock: Then why you, Hot Rod, sitting in lounge. If you, Hot Rod, no want talk then go sulk in private quarters instead taking up chair in lounge!

Hot Rod: Like you could sit in that ridiculous alt. mode! You're a bipedal robot. Act like it!


Grimlock: Me, Grimlock get it! You, Hot Rod, have chassis in twist 'cause "chosen one" thing not work out. Poor Rodimus--er, Hot Rod.

Hot Rod: Shut up, you . . . you . . . cretin!


Grimlock: Why don't you, Hot Rod, go write about it in your little emo diary?

Hot Rod: I swear to Primus, some day I'm going to--

Mirage: Ahem!


Hot Rod: Yes?

Mirage: Sorry to ruin the moment, dudes. I promise I'll just be a sec' then you can get back to your . . . thing.


Mirage: Could you guys totally help a brother out? We're playin' D&D downstairs and need some dice.


Hot Rod: *mutters* Didn't ask if I wanted to play.

Hot Rod: You may want to check the library. If you don't mind, I'll go with you.


Grimlock: Yeah, me, Grimlock, think me, Grimlock, will go too.

Mirage: You two are awesome!


Hot Rod: *mutters* @&#%ing primitive!

#026 - The Call, part 1

Autobot Headquarters (the basement)


Brain Center: You are all gathered at the Happy Hobbit Inn, it seems most of the town of is here trading stories and drinking ale.

Inferno: Didn't the Tolkien estate say TSR couldn't use the word hobbit?

Brain Center: I'm not TSR. This is a HOMEBREW game.


Sideswipe: What's this statistic abbreviated HAN?

Brain Center: That's Handsomeness. I was going to use Comeliness, but the abbreviation was a little too risque.

Sideswipe: Only if you say it out loud.

Sunstreaker: *giggles*

Sidewipe: Never mind.


Hound: Can we get a shorter table for next time?

Sunstreaker: Maybe, a booster chair would be better.

Hound: Ass!


Inferno: Thanks for having me over to play D&D, guys. It's tough being the new guy.

Sunstreaker: Sure, whatever. Hey B.C., when do we start kicking dwarf ass. No offense, Hound.

Hound: I swear to Primus, I'm going to--

Brain Center: It is Mirage's initiative.


Mirage: So, like, can I cast, um...any of these spells?

Brain Center: Yes, anything on the sheet.

Mirage: Awesome! I cast Detect Magic.

Brian Center: Roll d20 plus your INT modifier.

Mirage: Uh, what do I roll with?


Brain Center: Slag it! Where are the dice? Someone go get the gaming dice from the lounge. Not it!

Inferno: Not it!

Sunstreaker: Not it!

Hound: Not it!

Sideswipe: Not it!


Mirage: What?

Sunstreaker: We need Funyuns and 'Dew too!

The First Day of Vacation

Happy: Bourbon and comics are nice. My time off has afforded me the time to catch up on both. This current run of Batman titles are excellent. There's no Bruce Wayne, and yet the stories are very good without being gimmicky. This is truly remarkable considering six of the eight monthly titles are less than a year old and a seventh has a COMPLETELY new cast of characters. The bourbon, as always is well mellowed and delicious. Thank you, Mr. Daniels.

Sad: I didn't get as far into my little project as I would have liked to, but the night (and week) is (are) young.

OUCH!

Good: I'm looking forward to starting a new creative project this afternoon. It will be fun and keep me occupied during the time off.

Also, as I review this for publication, I'm told that no misspellings have been found. Hooray, learning!

Bad: I just tore up my knuckle on a jagged prong that had been torn out of its cord and stuffed into the ground slot of an electrical outlet. Less than fifteen minutes into a work week I'm bleeding.

Good thing I have less than six hours until spring break!

. . . Aaaaaaaaand Done!

Happy: I gave my finals today. That means I am, practically speaking, done with my second quarter teaching at the technical college. Today alone, I have heard more appreciation from my students than I can recall getting from my high school students for five years. That is not to say I never got praise from my students. Its was just little and rare.

One student in particular gave me this apple. He's a truck driver by trade and not the type you'd expect to get sentimental. Still, he was nearly choked-up as he thanked me for being his teacher this past ten weeks.

I will come in on Monday, but there won't be any students and I'll be done early. It will be a quiet day. After that, I have two weeks off.

I'm already looking forward to the beginning of next quarter.

Sad: I forgot to buy Swiss cheese to make rubens with Wednesday's corned beef. There's a few other things I aught to pick up. I'm just feeling lazy and Wal-Mart is never a pick-me-up.

Where Are My Dice?

Happy: I get to drink Guinness on a weeknight without feeling guilty.

Sad: My dice keep wandering off. It seems each time Mthr. M-G and I move, I end up losing my gaming dice. Years ago I lost about $20 in dice and a chainmail dice bag I made for them. It was awesome. When I started playing D&D in Tennessee, I had to buy new dice. I had five sets. That's probably $30 retail. Now I'm Dungeon Mastering tomorrow and I can't find any dice. I know players should bring their own, but I'd like to be prepared for the newcomer braving the monolithic horror that is D&D for the first time. "See? It's not so bad. Just tell me what your characters does and role some dice when I ask you to. You don't have any? Here. Use mine." Isn't that so much better than, "What do you mean you don't have a d12? Get out of my face, noob! You don't deserve D&D!!"

Also, my little Cthulhu doll has been misplaced.

Maybe he has my dice. Wow, he IS evil.

Low Country Boil

Happy: Our church's men's group knows how to cook. What you are witnessing is a mountain of shrimp, sausage, potatoes, mushrooms, garlic, and lemon all freshly boiled with a can of Old Bay. I declare it to be heaven on a Styrofoam (R) plate.

This was proceeded by thirty pounds of freshly boiled crawfish. I was cheerfully instructed in the ways of dissection and consumption of the mud puppies. (Yes, I sucked the head.)

Sad: Antiseptic Gen-X music. I'm not generally in favor of censorship, but I do see the need to limit what is broadcast to a general audience. I don't need to hear the F-bomb dropped on my morning commute with my daughter in the back seat. That being said, I'm offended by the words NOT included by the local Gen-X station. This morning I was treated to Everlast's "What It's Like". Here's the uncensored second verse.

Mary got pregnant from a kid named Tom who said he was in love.
He said, "Don't worry about a thing baby doll. I'm the man you've been dreamin' of."
But three months later he said he won't date her or return her calls
And she sweared, "God damn! If I find that man I'm cuttin' off his balls."
And then she heads for the clinic and she gets some static walkin' through the doors.
They call her a killer, and they call her a sinner, and they call her a whore.

The first word removed for the public's protection was God. This is a common practice in broadcast censorship since it is offensive to those that feel the phrase God damn implies that a human may impose his or her will on God. You can damn things yourself, you can talk about God, but you can't order God to damn someone.

Next word: balls. This is only offensive in context and only then if you are one that believes acknowledging the existence of genitalia is offensive. Then again our society is derivative of Anglo-Saxon culture. As Mthr. M-G has said, Anglo-Saxons are embarrassed that pleasure sometimes happens.

The coup de grace (for this verse at least) was whore. I understand that you may not want a whore as a role model for your children, but they can't even hear the word? Killer is okay. We're fine with our children killing someone after hearing the word killer. Are we seriously concerned that our children will have carnal relations for monetary compensation just because they hear the word whore? Maybe we're more concerned we may have to have a conversation with our children when they hear a new word.

Sorry Everlast, I'm afraid that twelve years on we're STILL not ready to hear, "What It's Like".

Sunday Silliness

Mthr. M-G has started a Sunday evening service for and by college age persons. With Fr. Don out of town the last two weekends, Mthr. M-G has led and preached in three services on Sundays. In order to help, Phoebster and I hit the road this afternoon leaving a quiet, restful house.

Happy: Free hats at Toys 'R' Us! As you can see Nintendo USA is taking a cue from big tobacco and trying to, "get 'em young." The scary thing is the adjustable strap was set in the middle in order to fit her Phoebness. Either the designers are expecting much younger children to be wearing Pikachu, or Phoeb-a-loo is cursed with her father's gigantic melon.

Sad: Three bombings later and kitty is still en-flead. Also, thanks to the first three words of that last sentence, Penguin Postings is probably on a watch list courtesy of the Patriot Act.

Welcome to "Welcome to Moe's"

The Fam' took a trip to the "big" city today. Mthr. M-G picked up tatting supplies and a how-to book on the craft. (Now she has a shuttle and a bobbin.) I got stuff for making awesome stitch markers, some fun yarn, and doll eyes. (Yes, Cthulhu is going to be getting some friends.) Phoebe got an Abby Cadabby doll.

Happy: Enjoying a snack at Moe's Southwestern Grill. We had pushed the Phoebster too far without a nap. Mthr. M-G was hungry. Phoeb-a-loo was due for a snack. I was dreading what may happen, but it turns out that nachos can tame the savage beast. We had such a nice time. The burritos are excellent, and they yell, "Welcome to Moe's," every time the door opens. What more could you want? I recommend the Who's Kaiser Salsa.

Sad: We're losing an hour of sleep!

Blasphemous and Adorable

Two days off, but I can explain. I've been up to some very important stuff. I'll make it up by posting this weekend.

Happy: I've completed my first crotchet toy. It's H. P. Lovecraft's own embodiment of maddening horror, Cthulhu. He normally looks like this, but I like the softer side of the Deep Old One.

I'm really impressed with the results. The instructions, located here, are easy to follow. If you have any proficiency with a crotchet hook you will be able to bring this cuddly bit of evil to life. Metaphorically, of course.

Sad: Unnecessary panic cleaning. In order for the professional exterminators to do their thing and help wipe out our flea issues, they need to have the floors cleaned and cleared. Well, Mthr. M-G seem to be unable to pace out a cleaning roster. Last night was consumed with vacuuming and storage box redistribution.

Then the exterminator decided not to show up for his appointment or call to explain why he didn't.

Start the Countdown

Happy: I got an e-mail from my local comic retailer stating that the free D&D stuff from Wizards of the Coast came in. Next Thursday, the 18th, I'll be running the premier of Dungeons & Dragons Encounters. WotC is trying to bring in new players by offering a low-commitment entry into role playing. Once a week, players gather at their local gaming shop to play through one encounter of a mini campaign. Over twelve weeks an entire story line is played though and the players just have to meet for one to two hours on a week night. This is much more doable than four to five hours on a Saturday or Sunday. For new DMs (like me) it means only one fight to prep a week. EASY! Best of all Wizards supplies everything, even prizes. If you're interested, just show up at a participating store.

Sad: One or two students can be extremely inconsiderate. Apparently, walking toward the exit ten minutes into one's lunch break is a sign that one is, in fact, free as a bird to tutor students. One question always leads to seven more. The final one being, "Can I take the test tomorrow?"

You mean the test we've been prepping for for over a week? The test we reviewed for all day yesterday? The test your classmates are currently taking or have already taken? You want to take THAT test tomorrow?

No.

McWhat!

Happy: I got free toys today! A certain fast food chain with a Scottish surname is giving away Star Wars toys in their children's meals. I went to the counter and asked which exact toy was available. They asked why. I told them I didn't want a duplicate. I already had Yoda, you see. She then went to the back while her coworker finished the transaction. When my new best friend returned she brought with her six of the seven toys I didn't have. Now, I didn't intend to buy six kid's meals. I didn't even intend to buy six toys even if the option was available, but my BFF did just go to all the trouble. So I asked how much. She said not to bother. FREE TOYS!!!

Sad: I'm missing the Anakin Skywalker backpack buddy.

So, ungrateful . . .

Food Day

We had a lovely dinner. The salmon was cooked through but moist and flavorful. The rice was chewy and delicious. The white asparagus, a new dish for us, was a bit fibrous. (Who knew you had to peel it?) This turned out to be the capstone to a food-centric day.

Happy: I met the kindest little old lady at the seafood counter. She is the essence of what I have fallen in love with here. People here don't let something like not knowing a person prevent them from speaking their mind. This has led to many a person stopping the Phoebster and me while running errands just so they could heap praise on Phoeb-a-loo. Doting father that I am, I just thought it was the cuteness exuded by my daughter. Not so! The times I have taken Phoeb-a-doo-dah out in other communities, or--heaven forbid--back in Wisconsin, people will see her, smile SLIGHTLY to themselves, and return to their own business.

My fellow fish fan (alliteration!) was a sight to behold. A wig that could not have fooled a blind man sat upon her proud head. Her out-of-date jacket and slacks were impeccable. Her make up perfectly complimented her features . . . twenty years ago.

Yet, the conversation about salmon and how we prepared it was delightful. We passed the time joyfully while out orders were filled. After a time we departed, she with her freshly steamed Cajun shrimp, and I with tonight's entree.

Sad: I forgot my lunch today. That meant I had to buy something from a fast food place or from the deli of the nearby grocery store. Either way, my chances of having a healthy option were slim.

It's like a part of my subconscious WANTS to be fat and broke.

I Love Frank!

Yesterday, I decided to highlight the high and low points of each day. Today, Jesus smiled on my decision with a beautiful gift. That gift's name is Frank.

Happy: Phoeb-a-rino's daycare is in a building that has a corridor of offices between between the entrance and the actual daycare rooms. It's always a treat to walk hand-in-hand with my girl as she jogs happily to school. Today, about half way to the room, we got to meet Frank.

I have no idea who would put Frank on display like this. There's no reason Frank should be there. Children don't traffic this hall but for drop-off and pick-up times. Obviously, Frank was there to make my blog.

He did.

Sad: Um . . . Phoeb-a-loo-la didn't eat her carrots.

Introducing Happy/Sad

I was listening to a favorite podio book author today as he interviewed a couple fellow podcasters who happen to be a couple. As they were wrapping up, J. C. mentioned a favorite part of their podcast. It's called High/Low. They both mention the high and low points of their day.

You may have noticed that I have been lacking in updates lately. Well, this may be motivation enough for me.

Happy: This idea coming to me! Seriously. I've been feeling guilty about not updating lately, but I haven't felt all that inspired either. I really do hope this breaks the slump.

Sad: My colleague be a complete tool. A nameless fool I work with has earned more than a few silent head shakes from me since I started my new job, but what I'm hearing lately is starting to steam me.

I'm sure we've all worked with a hypossip. (That's a combination of a hypocrite and gossip for those keeping score.) This is the person who warns you early on to be careful about who you say what to and then launches into a discussion of what everyone does or says.

Today, a student of mine asked if I was doing okay for hours at work. After assuring her that I was fine, I asked why she was concerned. Apparently, my hypossip has been talking to anyone who will listen about how the tutors aren't getting their hours. According to her, we're just sitting there and not tutoring.

First, this is just false AND I have evidence. Each time we meet with a student, they fill out a survey for the tutoring labs records. Therefore, it's a matter of public record that I meet with students at least an hour every day. Second, what am I supposed to do when students don't come into the lab for help? Disappear only to reappear when a student walks in needing help with their math? I am contracted for my TIME. I am available one hour and forty-five minutes every day. If no one comes in, I'm still there and NOT at home doing things for myself and family. Third and last, SHE'S NOT MY BOSS! Why is she in such a tizzy about my hours and sharing announcing her opinion to students?