Sunday, July 23, 2006

When did I get that wart?

Greetings thou jolt-head illiterate horse and white livered wretched bloody userping molignant kancards! Bob enjoys quoting shakespeare. But my greeting has nothing to do with my short message for today. I have been slacking lately, and plan on doing so for a little while. I have been on a short vacation and am soon going on a longer one. 'yay.' *bob is forced to eat Robin's minstrals* 'yay.' we are going camping, or weenie camping, because we stay in an "A" frame cottage without running water, fridge, stove etc. but don't smile yet, Bob will be back once the police find me and drag me back to my strait jacket.
at this point i've been sitting at the computer trying to figure out what to say in general about my life. bugger, my life's boring.
so goodbye 'til my next drooling session.

wha I have three brothers an' thar a' rest for their arms are croost apon their breasts.
wa de poor young sailors just like me must be tossed an' driven in tha cold black sea!
--Farewell to Nova Scotia, tradidional Scottish/Canadian song (excuse the bad spelling, it's how "auld" poems are written)

Monday, July 10, 2006

Tea 'n crumpits Gov'na'?

Any of you hobos ever been to the Renaissance Faire? If you have never gone, go now.
back so soon?
Anyway, bob went again on Sunday. This is only the third time I've gone and already my year revolves around it. I went first in 2004, and being totaly obsessed with fantasy and medeival history, I was enthralled. men in puffy pants and women in puffy dresses went around everywhere and called everyone their cousin ("good day good cousin!" etc.). so soon after that i had some extra money and a ren fair catologue so i got a kilt and shirt. If I just went like that I would be like one of those baffoons who were told that people dressed up, so they put on a bathrobe cape and sneakers and called themsleves "down right Elizabethen." So I got a nice belt and expensive renaissance shoes. this looked okay, not, "oh what a lovely costume if only I could afford one" okay, but passable. so this year i went all out and got knee socks, stockingflags, a sporran and claymore (enormous Scottish sword, perfect for whacking off English heads). all together my costume cost about $250 and I look pretty good.
but enough tartan babblings, on to the faire! I got up bright nad early (9:00) and my brother and I went to pick up my brother's friend. she is evil personified. her favorite hobby is hugging me because she knows I despise human contact. she fears stakes, crucifixes, silver bullets and all other forms of monster slaying. We got to the faire and after buggering around for a while we four (my brother, the Undead thing, a friend of mine and I) found the ye olde demonic armore shoppe. this, i believe was the beginning. The "it" took a picture with the salesman who was wearing black leather studded with red spikes. it was to be the first of overall 52 pictures taken that day. for some reason I was dared into going on the bungey jumps there, which was fun if slightly childish. it was especialy fun in a kilt. then we came upon the pixies. women in skin tight suits, spraypainted the color of their "element" (blue:water, green:forrest, etc). They did a kind of modern dance with people, acting kind of like people realy high on something, so every time we went by one, someone would whisper loudly "My psyciatrist said this was bad, but I'm seeing the pixies again." this gained the occasional laugh, but a lot of nasty looks. there is far too say to decribe the faire, so I'll start to put the slobber back in my mouth and fetch my dribble rag for the end. The next morning I slept until 1:00, four hours more than usual. and I delt with my faire hangover well*. So goodbye and beware the ides of march.

*Faire Hangover: a state of mind following a trip to the ren faire in which everything in your life seems so boring in comparison to all the fun you had yesterday that you want ot do one of two things; either sleep all day, or go back to the faire. the faire's far away so I always go with my second instinct.

The bravest fell and the requium bell tolled mournfully and clear for those who died that Easter tide in the springing of the year.
While the world did gaze with deep amaze at those fearless men but few, who bore the fight that freedom's light might shine through the foggy dew.
~~The Foggy Dew - old Irish battle song

Thursday, July 06, 2006

Yes I am odd! what of it!?!

just a couple links to show ye people today.
interesting study:

( 050128_monkey_business.html - 66k -) or type "new study" on google and it's the first after the three newspaper things.

Bob's new blog! if you go on, leave a message like you believe the BS I drool out onto the screen. (it's a long story why, but perhaps when I have even less to do than I do now I will share it).


Wednesday, July 05, 2006

Give 'im the ole' man!

Greetings losers! Bob is disturbed. The incident occured yesterday on the way to a fireworks show. I, and a few of my friends, (ranging from about 14-18 years old) were driving along a street, on both sides were appartment buildings.
As we poked along in our van, an old man of maybe 80 or so, dressed in a blue shirt and golf cap looked at us, and in slow motion his face twisted into an angry grimace and a lone finger went up. yes! that's right! the ole' man gave us the finger! flipped us the bird! showed us the cecular version of the "one way" sign! this elderly man looked at us and for no appearent reson gave us the ifle tower! there was a moment of shocked silence nad then a huge chorus of laughter.
Then it was over. he turned and continued flipping us off until we were out of sight, but still laughing. wouldn't you hate to be his grand-kid? I've had the occasional finger thrown my way but this tops them all. We also have no idea what caused him to do such a thing. we were doing nothing but sitting there and talking. so we have three theories:
1. the ole fart had mental problem
2. the old man was anti-american and hated
the 4th.
3. the ole dinker just hated youth of all ages.

if you, my two person audiance have any theories please post 'em. if not just try to invision your grandpa giving you half the peace sign. It's kinda fun.

I'm a lumberjack and I'm okay, I sleep all night and I work all day.

Saturday, July 01, 2006

The curse of the great wizard G'naftr'knak!

Greetings my pitiful losers! Bob is back for anothyer round. A short one this time. The subject you ask? Nerds! Being one myself I know all about them. Have you ever had a freind who is completely obsessed with D&D or Runescape to such an extent that it envelops their whole lives? Welcome to my house party! You see, Bob's friends (not the ones who take his money at gunpoint, the other ones) are strange people for the most part. Aside from the muggers and the other quarter of semi-normal ones, most of Bob's friends are complete and utter Nerds, or Geeks. I do not use this term in a derogitory way, rather in an open, "haha non-losers, that word has no effect on us now (gniggle)" way. I firmly believe that a nerd should be open about the fact that he is one, and the first step toward the psyc house is admitting your problem. there are some forms of nerds that Bob cannot stand. these are the Enveloped Nerds. the ones who are so completely obsessed with their game, be it Warhammer, D&D or Runescape that if you speak a word of the ouside world to them they will look at you as if you had lost your pocket protector. I happen to know that these exist, I have talked to them on various occasions. teh conversation goes something like what follows:
Me: "Hey."
Nerd: "Hey. What level are you?"
Me: "32. You?"
Nerd: "Seventy five."*
Me: "Cool."
Nerd: "What's your attack XP?"
Me: "30."

A few more minutes of this and we've become basic aquaintances.

Me: "What kind of music you like?"
Nerd: *blank stare*
Me: "Like, rap? rock?Disco? Polka?"
Nerd: "Um, ya."
Me: "Any other sites you like? Game sites or anything?"
Nerd: *blank stare*
Me: "So you like, write or draw or anything?"
Nerd: I can drawr the great Wizard Za'Vatar, and sometimes the mighty warrior Ithor."

I try again several times to talk about normal things, but yet again fail.

Me: "(sigh) what's your Fishing XP?"

And I believe he is still chattering about that to this very day, and he will explain how many shrimp he can catch in one day to whoever will listen until he is old and has even thicker glasses.
this is a semi-sad day in Bobland. but look at the bright side, now, if I keep listening to their ramblings I will get a good raise soon. beause whatever happens, Nerds, since the beginning of time, will grow up to be you bosses. That's one very positive thing about Nerds, is they are exceedingly smart. I've played Wargames (something like Risk) with them before and they can beat you in five turns flat. before you know it they've blown your artillary to shreds, outflanked your prime muskets and manuvered your horses into a corner in front of some spearmen!

translation: "Geek! geek geek geeking! geek geek geek geek geekums! Geekity geekity geekums! Geek!"
But anyway, I would rather be a nerd than one of those stupid conforming "Normal" or "Cool" people. Nerds have alot to be said for them, so suck up to them now kiddies, 'cause they could put you in a monsion or the poolhouse when you're old.

*it has taken me five years of playing the game in question a few hours a week to reach where I am, and the Nerd is usualy younger than me so from that deduct how much he must play a week, or even a day. I would do it for you but I'm far too lazy. HA!