Due to that awesome bear I went to google for strange coat of arms.
Turns out that both Strange and Weird are actually aristocratic names and have in fact very boring coats of arms.
Thanks for nothing google.
Steam: SanderJK Origin: SanderJK
+5
HunterChemist with a heart of AuRegistered Userregular
The insignia of the Soviet nuclear program. Bears so tough they can smash atoms.
That is rad as fuck.
Seriously. Think about it. The bear went full Super Sayian, then shrunk itself down to an atomic scale while still fully powered up, and then begins tearing the nucleus of an atom apart while stepping on the electron shell to keep it at bay. That is hardcore shit.
Way back when, my paternal grandfather had a lawyer that he always used that represented him in his various dealings as a farmer. Contracts, and the like.
Eventually this lawyer got into politics and gradually rose through the ranks until one day he got as high up as he was going to get. And when he got there, he must have thought, "You know, this Apartheid thing isn't all that awesome."
3 weird dream related things. When I dream they tend to be really strange.
One night several years ago I had a dream that at one point involved a giant UFO. A few days later I heard a story on NPR about a small town in Texas that saw something in the sky on the same night I had that dream. The description of it actually meshed pretty well with what it looked like in my dream.
When I was in college I had downloaded the soundtrack for FLCL. One of the tracks is a Kabalevsky piece, which in the title of the track was Kabarefusuki. It was done in romaji not katakana, so I didn't realize it was a foreign word. I was talking a nap and it suddenly occurred to me in my sleep that it was actually Kabalevsky. I woke up and slapped my forehead.
The other day I woke up with the name of one our 12,000ish users running through my head and she was the first or second person to call after not having heard from her for months.
Turns out if you dream enough random shit, it will occasionally line up with real life.
The insignia of the Soviet nuclear program. Bears so tough they can smash atoms.
That is rad as fuck.
Seriously. Think about it. The bear went full Super Sayian, then shrunk itself down to an atomic scale while still fully powered up, and then begins tearing the nucleus of an atom apart while stepping on the electron shell to keep it at bay. That is hardcore shit.
when my sister was younger she used to really like a certain brand of macaroni & cheese
at one point they changed their packaging, and my sister commented that the picture on the new box looked like a lumpy bird dropping
so we looked it up in my grandmother's bird poop encyclopedia (which is the sort of book that birdwatchers buy apparently) and found a species whose poop looked exactly like the picture on the box
we called their customer service line and informed them of this
WeaverWho are you?What do you want?Registered Userregular
I once got mistakenly sent to this giant conference that was all about lessons learned from the Russian invasion of Chechnya with some super-detailed hour by hour intel. I was a lowly enlisted E-4 and everyone else there was a major or higher. Awwwwkward.
I once got mistakenly sent to this giant conference that was all about lessons learned from the Russian invasion of Chechnya with some super-detailed hour by hour intel. I was a lowly enlisted E-4 and everyone else there was a major or higher. Awwwwkward.
Military bureaucracy, the most efficient in the world!
I once got mistakenly sent to this giant conference that was all about lessons learned from the Russian invasion of Chechnya with some super-detailed hour by hour intel. I was a lowly enlisted E-4 and everyone else there was a major or higher. Awwwwkward.
My roommate was randomly selected to do some computerized war game against North Korea. Oh how I wished I was him. I would have micro'd us to victory so hard.
I once got mistakenly sent to this giant conference that was all about lessons learned from the Russian invasion of Chechnya with some super-detailed hour by hour intel. I was a lowly enlisted E-4 and everyone else there was a major or higher. Awwwwkward.
My roommate was randomly selected to do some computerized war game against North Korea. Oh how I wished I was him. I would have micro'd us to victory so hard.
Man we did those games twice while I was over there and I didn't get to do either one. Which I guess is fine because both times the story that came back was the LT they were teamed up with just took over everything and didn't let them do anything at all.
Oh hay, amish stories? When I lived in Delaware, I had Amish neighbors. They were nice people, plowed out my driveway when it snowed. I think they were cheaters though. I could hear the generator going at night at their house.
Also there was the Amish Market that had the best fucking food ever. One of the ladies there was super gorgeous and my friend hypothesized she had been kidnapped, since compared to the other ladies she was ridiculously attractive.
They also had an Amish little person there. I felt bad because they actually had a sign up telling people not to take pictures of her. I can only assume asshole people would gawk at her all the time which warranted the sign.
Munkus BeaverYou don't have to attend every argument you are invited to.Philosophy: Stoicism. Politics: Democratic SocialistRegistered User, ClubPAregular
I should preface this by saying my dad is an immigrant and at the time had only been in the country like 15 years or so. I was six and we were on a tour or something. On the way home he's all "Jason check this out . I just found it in a tree." he was super excited.
I was like five and said Daddy you stole a birdhouse.
My mom laughed her ass off for like a week.
I guess birdhouses aren't common in Iraq and he thought it was a toy? I never got an explanation.
I have a podcast now. It's about video games and anime!Find it here.
Meanwhile, there is a really pissed off family of birds just waiting for Riptor Snr to step foot back into Pennsylvania (or wherever Amish people live)
Meanwhile, there is a really pissed off family of birds just waiting for Riptor Snr to step foot back into Pennsylvania (or wherever Amish people live)
There is a massively overweight bluebird that hangs around our house. . .
I have a podcast now. It's about video games and anime!Find it here.
0
facetiousa wit so dryit shits sandRegistered Userregular
The short version is some guy snapped and started driving around and stopping at places such as synagogues, asian markets, and martial arts dojos shooting non-white and/or Christian people.
One of those happened to be my sister's fiancée. I posted about this recently about how the last time I saw him, we got into a dumb tiff with me being my immature self (my sister is seven and a half years older than me, so I was quite young at this time) and storming off to my room, slamming the door and not coming out until he left.
Naturally, I was pretty torn up when I found out he'd died. At the funeral I was a complete mess, crying so hard that I didn't even notice a cameraperson for a local newspaper stopping right in front of me to take a photo of my display. Which ended up being the front page photo.
They didn't even know I was in any way related to the story, just some dude expressing grief. Further making this odd is that there was a quote in the story attributed to me that was actually given by my cousin.
That's all kind of weird, but that's not actually the true point of this post.
So my sister ended up getting pregnant about two and a half year and a half later. But there were some complications, and it became an increasingly big concern that the baby would be premature.
Which turned out to be true: the girl came about two and a half months premature.
..... on April 28, 2003.
Three years to the day of his death.
I wasn't there, but apparently everyone in the hospital room just kind of looked at each other, not needing to say a word about what had happened.
And though I consider myself an atheist, I can't find it in me to disagree with the assertation that my niece, who is perfectly healthy and will turn 10 in a couple months, had a guardian angel over her that night.
facetious on
"I am not young enough to know everything." - Oscar Wilde
I thought so too. Just wish it rubbed off on my grandfather though, this is the same one who joined a militant organization that believed we should have thrown in with the Nazis in WW2 and blew up some train tracks and bridges to emphasize this point they were trying to make.
Nobody knows if ol' gramps participated, but he was definitely a member.
MalReynoldsThe Hunter S Thompson of incredibly mild medicinesRegistered Userregular
edited February 2013
One time, I was riding a roller coaster at Dowdy's, a piecemeal amusment park in the swampy recesses of North Carolina. We vacationed there, my family and I, not to Dowdy's specifically, but I always enjoyed paying them a visit. They had a terrific arcade that featured token based slot machines with ticket payouts that you could trade in for prizes. Or, you could trade in the tickets for approximate cash value. Slot machines hold some sort of mystic value over the mind of a ten year old, and I spent most of my time at Dowdy's plinking away. In retrospect, this was probably the start of most of my addictions - food, alcohol, sex, drugs, rock and roll, internet, because the instant gratification was amazing and no one was telling me, this waist-high gambler, that I shouldn't.
Sadly, this story isn't about how I made a ton of bucks playing the slots before I was old enough to have chest hair. This is about the outdoor roller coaster they had. It was tame, tame enough - or, maybe it wasn't a roller coaster. I think it may have been something called The Octopus instead, an eight-armed ride that functioned very much like a drunk ferris wheel. Each of the arms would dip and raise, very quickly, and my brother - not one to be taken in by gambling or arcade games, but rather, the awesomely mundane thrill of awesomely mundane thrill rides - wanted to give The Octopus a whirl.
I was fah-lush with cash from the slots, so I agreed, even though roller coasters and thrill rides don't normally old thrall over me. Because they're not thrall rides and, if you've read this far, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, that joke was terrible.
Anyway.
We seated ourselves and the ride took off, and at first, I was doing my level best at remaining stoic and unamused, but the thing was deceptively fun. Since the park wasn't crowded, the operator told us ahead of time that he'd allow the riders to stay on longer than usual (he was trying to put off closing the machine for fifteen minutes so he could go clean up spew behind the corn-dog tent), and yes, I opened my mouth to laugh. Because it was fun.
No sooner had I opened my mouth did the arm my brother and I were riding in go for a dip, increasing our velocity.
Earlier that week, miles away in a lightly wooded area, a dragonfly was born. It lit on trees and explored its home. It took to the sky and saw the breadth of the world, and it wept little dragonfly tears, and decided that the woods were not enough. No, this dragonfly wanted the taste of the city. And so he left, flying low to the ground - he had thin wings, you see, and couldn't fly more than fifty feet up without dropping altitude. His family said he was too weak to make it in the world, that he would only live the better part of a month, and they laughed, knowing that they'd live the better part of two, because they're fucking dragonflys. Our dragonfly had something to prove.
He flew, almost without rest, lighting gently on flowers, or whatever the shit it is that dragonflies eat so they're not hungry and also so they can fly, when he spotted Dowdy's.
This was to be his home.
No sooner had I opened my mouth did the arm my brother and I were riding in go for a dip, increasing our velocity.
No sooner had I opened my mouth did that selfsame fucking dragonfly launch into my maw, slamming into the back of my throat, and dropping down my esophagus.
I didn't really know what to do, so I started coughing and gagging. Its wings had broken off on my tongue. I spit them out and started shouting things like, "I THINK I SWALLOWED A DRAGONFLY, WHY IS THIS HAPPENING!? WHAT KIND OF CRUEL GOD IS SO CRUEL?!" My brother, naturally, didn't see the bug fly in because both the bug and our cart were moving at the speed of light, so he assumed I was goofing.
When the ride finally stopped, nobby-kneed I climbed out, shaking, a dull ache in the back of my throat where the dragonfly had presumably chosen to try and fly through my neck instead of backing out, and in my hands, I held a set of gross, wet broken dragonfly wings.
We never went back to Dowdy's. Somehow, that day, the magic of the place was lost, and in that time on The Octopus, I realized I was no longer a child, that the earth was a cruel, horrible place that would occasionally launch winged insects into your mouth and make you seem like a crazy person because no one else saw it.
Also I think maybe they were shut down because nothing was up to code and they fucking let a ten year old play the slots.
MalReynolds on
"A new take on the epic fantasy genre... Darkly comic, relatable characters... twisted storyline."
"Readers who prefer tension and romance, Maledictions: The Offering, delivers... As serious YA fiction, I’ll give it five stars out of five. As a novel? Four and a half." - Liz Ellor My new novel: Maledictions: The Offering. Now in Paperback!
Posts
Turns out that both Strange and Weird are actually aristocratic names and have in fact very boring coats of arms.
Thanks for nothing google.
Seriously. Think about it. The bear went full Super Sayian, then shrunk itself down to an atomic scale while still fully powered up, and then begins tearing the nucleus of an atom apart while stepping on the electron shell to keep it at bay. That is hardcore shit.
Secret Satan 2013 Wishlist
Tons of animal wangs in heraldry
"Sandra has a good solid anti-murderer vibe. My skin felt very secure and sufficiently attached to my body when I met her. Also my organs." HAIL SATAN
"Sandra has a good solid anti-murderer vibe. My skin felt very secure and sufficiently attached to my body when I met her. Also my organs." HAIL SATAN
Brace yourself...Dicks are coming LOL.
Secret Satan 2013 Wishlist
Eventually this lawyer got into politics and gradually rose through the ranks until one day he got as high up as he was going to get. And when he got there, he must have thought, "You know, this Apartheid thing isn't all that awesome."
And so he did something about it.
STEAM
One night several years ago I had a dream that at one point involved a giant UFO. A few days later I heard a story on NPR about a small town in Texas that saw something in the sky on the same night I had that dream. The description of it actually meshed pretty well with what it looked like in my dream.
When I was in college I had downloaded the soundtrack for FLCL. One of the tracks is a Kabalevsky piece, which in the title of the track was Kabarefusuki. It was done in romaji not katakana, so I didn't realize it was a foreign word. I was talking a nap and it suddenly occurred to me in my sleep that it was actually Kabalevsky. I woke up and slapped my forehead.
The other day I woke up with the name of one our 12,000ish users running through my head and she was the first or second person to call after not having heard from her for months.
Turns out if you dream enough random shit, it will occasionally line up with real life.
I challenge you to a sword fight at dawn.
https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Category:Male_genitalia_in_heraldry
"Sandra has a good solid anti-murderer vibe. My skin felt very secure and sufficiently attached to my body when I met her. Also my organs." HAIL SATAN
Lion rampant indeed.
That sounds more like Amazo.
Bearmazo.
at the zoo
it wasn't a zoo bird though
just a normal one
One time I clicked a link in a thread and ended up finding the perfect image for the jelqing thread.
true story
He had no idea you couldn't just take it.
one time I was at the zoo and I was trying to find a place to sit and eat my lunch and I came across two wooden benches
one had some birds sitting on it and was covered in bird poop
the other also had birds on it, but not a single drop of poop
to this day I have been unable to produce a reasonable explanation for why birds would poop on one bench and not the other
Amazon Wishlist: http://www.amazon.com/BusterK/wishlist/3JPEKJGX9G54I/ref=cm_wl_search_bin_1
when my sister was younger she used to really like a certain brand of macaroni & cheese
at one point they changed their packaging, and my sister commented that the picture on the new box looked like a lumpy bird dropping
so we looked it up in my grandmother's bird poop encyclopedia (which is the sort of book that birdwatchers buy apparently) and found a species whose poop looked exactly like the picture on the box
we called their customer service line and informed them of this
a month later they went back to the old packaging
What?!
Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better
bit.ly/2XQM1ke
What the fuck.
Military bureaucracy, the most efficient in the world!
My roommate was randomly selected to do some computerized war game against North Korea. Oh how I wished I was him. I would have micro'd us to victory so hard.
Man we did those games twice while I was over there and I didn't get to do either one. Which I guess is fine because both times the story that came back was the LT they were teamed up with just took over everything and didn't let them do anything at all.
Twitter Steam
They also had an Amish little person there. I felt bad because they actually had a sign up telling people not to take pictures of her. I can only assume asshole people would gawk at her all the time which warranted the sign.
Twitter Steam
Quid pro quo.
I should preface this by saying my dad is an immigrant and at the time had only been in the country like 15 years or so. I was six and we were on a tour or something. On the way home he's all "Jason check this out . I just found it in a tree." he was super excited.
I was like five and said Daddy you stole a birdhouse.
My mom laughed her ass off for like a week.
I guess birdhouses aren't common in Iraq and he thought it was a toy? I never got an explanation.
Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better
bit.ly/2XQM1ke
your story seems to have some inconsistencies here
I'm not sure if I believe it
I suspect that it was in fact you who stole the birdhouse, and it was not an accident but a deliberate and malicious crime against the Amish
There is a massively overweight bluebird that hangs around our house. . .
On April 28, 2000 there was a local tragedy that garnered national media coverage.
The short version is some guy snapped and started driving around and stopping at places such as synagogues, asian markets, and martial arts dojos shooting non-white and/or Christian people.
One of those happened to be my sister's fiancée. I posted about this recently about how the last time I saw him, we got into a dumb tiff with me being my immature self (my sister is seven and a half years older than me, so I was quite young at this time) and storming off to my room, slamming the door and not coming out until he left.
Naturally, I was pretty torn up when I found out he'd died. At the funeral I was a complete mess, crying so hard that I didn't even notice a cameraperson for a local newspaper stopping right in front of me to take a photo of my display. Which ended up being the front page photo.
They didn't even know I was in any way related to the story, just some dude expressing grief. Further making this odd is that there was a quote in the story attributed to me that was actually given by my cousin.
That's all kind of weird, but that's not actually the true point of this post.
So my sister ended up getting pregnant about two and a half year and a half later. But there were some complications, and it became an increasingly big concern that the baby would be premature.
Which turned out to be true: the girl came about two and a half months premature.
..... on April 28, 2003.
Three years to the day of his death.
I wasn't there, but apparently everyone in the hospital room just kind of looked at each other, not needing to say a word about what had happened.
And though I consider myself an atheist, I can't find it in me to disagree with the assertation that my niece, who is perfectly healthy and will turn 10 in a couple months, had a guardian angel over her that night.
Steam: Chagrin LoL: Bonhomie
Something something Charmin.
I thought so too. Just wish it rubbed off on my grandfather though, this is the same one who joined a militant organization that believed we should have thrown in with the Nazis in WW2 and blew up some train tracks and bridges to emphasize this point they were trying to make.
Nobody knows if ol' gramps participated, but he was definitely a member.
STEAM
Sadly, this story isn't about how I made a ton of bucks playing the slots before I was old enough to have chest hair. This is about the outdoor roller coaster they had. It was tame, tame enough - or, maybe it wasn't a roller coaster. I think it may have been something called The Octopus instead, an eight-armed ride that functioned very much like a drunk ferris wheel. Each of the arms would dip and raise, very quickly, and my brother - not one to be taken in by gambling or arcade games, but rather, the awesomely mundane thrill of awesomely mundane thrill rides - wanted to give The Octopus a whirl.
I was fah-lush with cash from the slots, so I agreed, even though roller coasters and thrill rides don't normally old thrall over me. Because they're not thrall rides and, if you've read this far, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, that joke was terrible.
Anyway.
We seated ourselves and the ride took off, and at first, I was doing my level best at remaining stoic and unamused, but the thing was deceptively fun. Since the park wasn't crowded, the operator told us ahead of time that he'd allow the riders to stay on longer than usual (he was trying to put off closing the machine for fifteen minutes so he could go clean up spew behind the corn-dog tent), and yes, I opened my mouth to laugh. Because it was fun.
No sooner had I opened my mouth did the arm my brother and I were riding in go for a dip, increasing our velocity.
Earlier that week, miles away in a lightly wooded area, a dragonfly was born. It lit on trees and explored its home. It took to the sky and saw the breadth of the world, and it wept little dragonfly tears, and decided that the woods were not enough. No, this dragonfly wanted the taste of the city. And so he left, flying low to the ground - he had thin wings, you see, and couldn't fly more than fifty feet up without dropping altitude. His family said he was too weak to make it in the world, that he would only live the better part of a month, and they laughed, knowing that they'd live the better part of two, because they're fucking dragonflys. Our dragonfly had something to prove.
He flew, almost without rest, lighting gently on flowers, or whatever the shit it is that dragonflies eat so they're not hungry and also so they can fly, when he spotted Dowdy's.
This was to be his home.
No sooner had I opened my mouth did the arm my brother and I were riding in go for a dip, increasing our velocity.
No sooner had I opened my mouth did that selfsame fucking dragonfly launch into my maw, slamming into the back of my throat, and dropping down my esophagus.
I didn't really know what to do, so I started coughing and gagging. Its wings had broken off on my tongue. I spit them out and started shouting things like, "I THINK I SWALLOWED A DRAGONFLY, WHY IS THIS HAPPENING!? WHAT KIND OF CRUEL GOD IS SO CRUEL?!" My brother, naturally, didn't see the bug fly in because both the bug and our cart were moving at the speed of light, so he assumed I was goofing.
When the ride finally stopped, nobby-kneed I climbed out, shaking, a dull ache in the back of my throat where the dragonfly had presumably chosen to try and fly through my neck instead of backing out, and in my hands, I held a set of gross, wet broken dragonfly wings.
We never went back to Dowdy's. Somehow, that day, the magic of the place was lost, and in that time on The Octopus, I realized I was no longer a child, that the earth was a cruel, horrible place that would occasionally launch winged insects into your mouth and make you seem like a crazy person because no one else saw it.
Also I think maybe they were shut down because nothing was up to code and they fucking let a ten year old play the slots.
"Readers who prefer tension and romance, Maledictions: The Offering, delivers... As serious YA fiction, I’ll give it five stars out of five. As a novel? Four and a half." - Liz Ellor
My new novel: Maledictions: The Offering. Now in Paperback!
This will be here until I receive an apology or Weedlordvegeta get any consequences for being a bully