Thursday, September 18, 2008

"The Rose of Battle"

Rose of all roses, Rose of the world!
You, too, have come where the dim tides are hurled.
Upon the wharves of sorrow, and heard ring,
The bell that calls us on, the sweet far thing.
Beauty grown sad with its eternity
Made you and us, and of the dim grey sea
Our long-ships loose thought-woven sails and wait,
For God has bid them share an equal fate.
And when at least, defeated in His wars,
They have gone down under the same white stars
We shall no longer hear the little cry
Of our sad hearts, that may not live or die.

Friday, September 12, 2008

And Now For Something Completely Tasteless

Wow. So that last post was unusually emo, even for me. Which maybe makes this post all the more fitting.

Did you know there is an entire entry on Wikipedia listing unusual deaths in history? Seriously, it's here. I love Wikipedia!! Some people have the most fucked up deaths! If I have to die before me time, it'd better be cool enough to get me on Wikipeida.

Indigestion killed a lot of people: Henry 1 of England, King of Sweden Adolf Frederick, and Chrysippus, a Greek philosopher, who is believed to have died of laughter after watching his drunk donkey attempt to eat figs.

Then there's death by laughing: The Burmese king Nanda Bayin, The Scottish aristocrat Thomas Urquhart,

Or this poor soul who died from both: 1410: Martin I of Aragon died from a lethal combination of indigestion and uncontrollable laughing.

Death by monkeys. MONKEYS!!!! Alexander I of Greece was killed by a couple of damn, rabid MONEYS!

And then there's this little gem: 1947: The Collyer brothers, extreme cases of compulsive hoarders, were found dead in their home in New York. The younger brother, Langley, died by falling victim to a booby trap he had set up, causing a mountain of objects, books, and newspapers to fall on him crushing him to death. His blind brother, Homer, who had depended on Langley for care, died of starvation some days later. Their bodies were recovered after massive efforts in removing many tons of debris from their home.


And here are a few that really stand out from the pack:

458 BC: Aeschylus, Greek playwright, was killed when an eagle dropped a live tortoise on him, mistaking his bald head for a stone. The tortoise survived

336: Arius, the heretical priest who precipitated the Council of Nicea, passed wind and evacuated his internal organs. Farted out his guts!

1478: George Plantagenet, Duke of Clarence reportedly was executed by drowning in a barrel of Malmsey wine at his own request.

1979: Robert Williams, a worker at a Ford Motor Co. plant, was the first known man to be killed by a robot.

1994: Gloria Ramirez was admitted to Riverside General Hospital for complications of advanced cervical cancer. Before she died, her body mysteriously emitted toxic fumes that made several emergency room workers very ill. She has been dubbed as the "toxic lady" by the media.

And while it is terrible that they all died, and died horrible deaths, maybe it just goes to show that everyone really does have a purpose in life. So maybe they're purpose is to bring amusement to sick fucks like me.... well..... Yea, I'm going to hell.

And now I'm going to watch Child's Play. Because I just don't haven't gotten my fill of death yet. Fucking Chucky. Creepy, life-sized little bastard.

Cheers,
Alette



"Life does not cease to be funny when people die any more than it ceases to be serious when people laugh." -George Bernard Shaw

Monday, August 25, 2008

Job Hunt Haiku

Ashes on my tounge
A bitter taste in my mouth
My light has gone out

Sunday, August 24, 2008

Hey! Look! Listen!

I *heart* video games. Unusual, since I did not have video games growing up. Or maybe that's why I like them... the novelty hasn't worn off yet. When I was a tween, I saved up all my birthday and christmas money so I could buy a Gameboy and get the Legend of Zelda game (this was back in the mid-90's), cuz my friend had it. Well, that never came to be.

Fast forward a few years to a new town and a new friend who was playing the Legend of Zelda on the N64. I wished to partake, and my parental wouldn't let met get a Nintendo. Long story.

Fast forward a few more years and I'm in the dorms and my friend down the hall has a Game Cube, and I am indoctrinated into the cult of Resident Evil. I LOVED that game. I made my friends leave their room unlocked so I could go in there between classes and play. That's my next purchase: a GameCube so I can play Res Evil.

And a few years after that I borrowed a N64 from my gay friend Sam, and finally got to play Legend of Zelda. I made it to the castle before school and life forced itself to the top of the priority list and I never got to finish playing.

So imagine my child-like excitement when I found out Roomie owns a N64 and will bring it to the apartment for me. And even better, I won an auction on eBay last week for an original Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time game. It's like a missing piece of my life has finally fallen into place. And what have I learned from all this?

I fucking hate that fairy.

Link is the the most uncoordinated little toe rag I have ever seen. Who else falls off cliffs, bounces themselves off rock, and waves their sword in the wrong direction while zombies knaw on their backside? (Yes, I am still talking about LoZ) The boy without a fairy......... I snickered a little bit.

And I fucking HATE that fairy. Supid fairy floating around my stupid head getting in the way and saying stupid things that I already knew cuz it already told me once. Thank you Captian Obvious, Commander of Useless Information.

And that stupid princess sure gets kidnapped a lot. From what I know of the Legend of Zelda mythos (which really isn't much), and there's like half a million of these games, and Zelda gets kidnapped at least once in every game. Which really means that her guardian - Impo....Impa.... whatever the hell her name is - really, really sucks at her job. And in this glorious kingdom of Hyrule, isn't there some sort of standing army? CIA? FBI? Blackwater? There isn't a professional that can hunt her down? The fate of the heir to kingdom is left in the hands of the one weirdo semi-retarded kid? "The boy without a fairy" That's like, if Jenna Bush got kidnapped, and they sent the Kid Who Eats Paste to find her. Really?

Excuse me, I'm off to watch the end of My Big Fat Greek Wedding, and thanking God I have a small family and that I promised my mother I'd elope.

Cheers,
Alette

"If someone's trying to kill you, you try and kill 'em right back!" -Mal Reynolds, Firefly

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Inappropriate Conversations, Pt. 1

Roomie and I had some school chums com visit recently, the Hippy and the Geek, whom we used to work with. We went out to eat at a place near the apartment, and got to sit on the rooftop patio. The food was really good, but that's not what I'm here to write about.

Later that night, back at the apartment, Roomie is sitting on the couch massacring what's left of the icecream cake. I'm making fun of her for acting like a crazy drunk person (she wasn't drunk, but that's a whole other story), I was going to start throwing things at her, since she wouldn't remember anyway.

"My roommate used to throw things at me," she says, referring to Crazy Kate.

"Didn't we see her in Bemidji, outside Keg?" Hippy asks. "Good thing Roomie stayed home."

"Yeah, CK might have started throwing things.... rocks, small children..." I smirk in the corner.

"Well, if you have to throw something heavy," Geek chimes in.

"And then kids scream, sounds like an incoming missal. Then they flail..." I'm enjoying this far too much. "Makes it easy to hit multiple targets."

"Hey now," Hippy cuts in, mock serious, "Let's not give the terrorists any ideas."

"Yeah, lob one kid, watch the whole crowd go down," I laugh.

"It's better than throwing IUD's into crowds," Hippy says. Wait.... what?! There's a moment of silence.

"That would properly combat an excess of children," I say as we laugh ourselves silly and sick.

These days we should take the treat of terrorism and IEDs seriously. But it you're already talking about kid-missles, there's no point in worrying about being politically correct.

Cheers,
Alette

Monday, August 18, 2008

Ode to Monday

A poem - written in nonsense-pentameter, and does not rhyme.


How I do loathe you, Monday!
Your sunny disposition hides
The rabid beast within.
Oh, how you play games
With me Monday!
My alarm,
It is so very loud.
My air conditioner,
It is so very broken.
I leave the house and
My shoes don't match!
Unfortunately, this is not exaggeration.
Monday! Why didn't you tell me
There was a PTD call at 8:30 this morning.
For that matter, why didn't my boss!?
Monday, are you and hi
In it together
To drive me crazy?
Oh Monday, you herald of all things
Miserable and wrong.
There is not enough Midol
To get me through this day.
I need an anti-acid.
I need a Diet Pepsi.
I need it to be Tuesday.


Cheers,
Alette

"I never called myself a poet" -Alette

Thursday, August 14, 2008