American Grimoire

In Shadow Marches, Necromantic Prodigy Crushes Will Of 13 Girls

Four years ago, Katie Demoness was homecoming queen at her high school in Khorvaire. She had a staff made from lightning-split oak and planned to study Illusion at the Mages Academy.

But those plans changed just a little. Today, she’s in the Shadow Marches, sharing her ramshackle hut with 13 obedient thralls, ages 2 to 15. Demoness is the illegal kidnapper of all of them, and hopes to one day bend every last child to the whims of her dark master, Nerull.

“I think that’s definitely something I was made for,” said Demoness, 22, a devout necromancer who idolizes the Foe of All Good. “Nerull just designed me that way because he knew that these fools only had WIS in the single digits.”

Demoness traveled to Droaam after ritualistically sacrificing her entire high school in 2007, but saw it as a temporary move before starting university in Sharn.

She started teaching the black arts at an orphanage in a small village near the town of Ganja. One night, in January 2008, a mud hut down the road from the orphanage collapsed on three lepers during a rainstorm. “By the gods, I did good work that night!” recalls Demoness. “First, infecting them with leprosy and then using the might of nature to smite their only shelter. I was really coming into my own then.”

As she inspected the aftermath of her horrific handiwork, Demoness stumbled upon a couple of wretched urchins. “I’ll be the first to admit it, the Save vs. my Charm spell was pretty low, but I said ‘what the hell’ and gave it a try.”

“I love Mistress,” said one of the pitiful ragamuffins, interrupting Demoness. “I asked if I could live with her forever and ever and she said ‘yes.’”

“Well, turns out I had rolled a Nat20 I was like, ‘I’m not about to look this gift horse in the mouth,’” said Demoness with her trademark diabolical smirk.

Demoness couldn’t find any sweat shops to employ her gaggle of useless waifs in, so she rented a spooky gothic mansion in which to accommodate her growing brood. Over the next 18 months, 10 more slack-jawed minions were indoctrinated into the Cult of Demoness.

“My first instinct is basically, ‘Oh, a baby—let me practice Charm on it!’ Because I think, best-case scenario, they’re raised to be my loyal serfs,” said Demoness.

Everday Challenges

Not everyone supports the infamous “White Demon Lady” of 666 Golgotha Drive however.

By necromantic law, Demoness is too young to have attained the Leadership feat, says bitter sorceress of the black arts Caroline Stabalot. The rules say any PC trying to be a dark overlord must be at least level 6, and have a WIS at least 10 points above the peasant in question.

Apart from that, Stabalot also disapproved of Demoness on the grounds that she was pretty. “Look, just because the bitch has a CHA of 18, she doesn’t need to rub it in everyone’s face.”

Demoness says she’s done everything by the book (ed., her Necronomicon) and if “that trick, Stabalot” doesn’t like it, Demoness has a +2 Masterwork Scythe with Stabalot’s name on it.

Launching a For-Profit

Not content with enslaving the wills of those in her local area, Demoness also started a for-profit organization to further spread her evil will like slimy green ooze across the map of Ebrerron.

“People definitely ask me why so many?” she said. “And I normally reply with a legion of my delinquent anklebiters swarming over them.”

Even her own mother, Mary Demoness, had questions about what her daughter was doing.

Until she came for a visit.

“Yeah, it was kind of rough slaying my own mother and raising her again as a rage zombie, but I don’t like to live in the past.”

Katie Demoness said she hopes to get married and break the will of her loving partner someday. But right now, she has no plans for marital enslavement.

At the end of another day of sinister plots unfolding, Demoness herded her girls off to bed and tucked them in, providing a glimpse of why she has stayed.

“I love you, Mistress,” said one of the girls.

“Bwa. Bwaha. BWAHAHAHAHAHA!” Demoness said.

Real Story Here.
This Post Was Inspired By This Post.

Two computer programmers spend 2 months developing applications, database processes, design plans, and so forth. Three analysts utilize said applications to parse through an ocean of data, painstakingly resolving anomaly after anomaly for several weeks. Thousands of work-hours, at least 2 dozen meetings, and countless creative resolutions are poured into a product that is distilled and aggregrated down to this end result:

During one standard Thursday meeting, a mid-level government bureaucrat is presented with a single number: “173.” To which he replies, “That’s about what I expected. Moving right along…”

There would appear to be a paucity of fantasy novel recommendations, so I decided to do something about it! Disagree? Have a novel to add? Please give me a comment! I’m always on the lookout for new books.

Jim Butcher’s Dresden Files series. It begins with ”Storm Front.” He’s a practicing wizard for hire who rents out a basement in Chicago. He lives with a cat and a talking skull. Great stories.

Simon Green’s Nightside series. It begins with ”Something from the Nightside.” He’s a private eye, and apparently the son of some unspeakably evil being. Gods cross the street when they see him coming, and faceless beings with razors for fingers are constantly trying to kill him…and he has no idea why. At least his secretary works pretty cheaply since he saved her from that man-eating house. Tongue-in-cheek, but incredibly great stories.

“Sunshine“ by Robin McKinley. There is this quiet girl who works at a quiet cafe. Her name is Sunshine and she loves to cook. I am not a fan of vampire books. I never made it through the 1st chapter of Anne Rice’s “Interview with a Vampire.” I thought this would be a vampire book, more so because the bookstore clerk kept gushing about it, but when I got it home I realized it was an incredibly awesome urban fantasy that just happened to include vampires. Very surreal. It’s candy for the mind. I wish I had wrote it.

“Dauntless“ by Jack Campbell. It’s your typical soldier-gets-frozen-for-100-years-only-to-dethaw-and-discover-that-there’s-a-war-between-his-side-of-the-galaxy-and-the-other-side-and-he’s-a-living-legend story. Things look grim, the chips are down, and he’s suddenly in command of an entire space fleet (or what remains of it). I thought I wouldn’t be that interested in this book, let alone recommend it, but somehow it works really well. He continues it with several books. All are awesome and that’s saying something since I don’t really read sci-fi, well, ever.

“Neverwhere“ by Neil Gaiman. This girl can open doors between normal London and *real* London. She’s on the run and about to die at the hands of assassins. She opens a door to “somewhere safe.” Enter a Londonian wage-slave. Great book by Gaiman.

“Stardust” by Neil Gaiman. And hell, “American Gods“  too. The first is about a modern British lad who’s trying to get a girl. Just to get rid of him she tells him that if he fetches the falling star that just streaked through the sky for her, she’ll marry him. And thus begins his quest. Prolly the best Gaiman book. The second book is a modern tale about long-forgotten gods…

“Goblin Quest” is the first novel in a trilogy and is very entertaining. To give a brief synopsis (which is leaving out an awful lot), the lead character is a goblin, huddling in his cave, trying to avoid “adventurers” whose only purpose is to slay his kind…until he “decides” to join up with one such group. Very imaginative and certainly the most different novel I’ve read in a long time. I love how it’s creative, engaging, and humorous (from the goblin’s perspective) and yet serious (when from the…other…lead character’s perspective).

“The Name of the Wind” by Patrick Rothfuss is a phenomenal fantasy novel. Nothing really new per se (pulls heavily from the LOTR and Earthsea novels, both aging series but worth a read in their own right BTW) but it does same-old brilliantly…which is as much as you can ask for.

“The Magician’s Guild” by Trudi Canavan. It pains me to recommend this, it really does. The author is overly wordy (but nowhere near Robert Jordan’s or Terry Goodkind’s level) which is the main drawback. This is the age-old tale of the zero who becomes a hero. It’s the clichéd story of a poor urchin who discovers she has strange abilities and gets sent to a prestigious school. I really can’t say why I like this trilogy except to say that I’m a sucker for “magic kids going to a magic school” novels. A good read, if you can get around her overly descriptive tendencies.

“The Way of Shadows” by Brent Weeks. I thought I wouldn’t like it but the trilogy had me enthralled. It’s the tale of a slum child who becomes the protege of a master assassin…who turns out to be far more than just a mere assassin. Get it. You’ll love it.

So there’s this housewife who lives across the street from me…

So innocent in her 40-something way, right? WRONG! She is the stuff nightmares are made of. I’m like a prisoner in my own home, for when I leave, she’s there, on her porch, like the Sword of Damocles hanging over my head.

“Roy!” she shrieks in delirious wonder. “Let me tell you about everything under the sun including the name of every blade of grass in the whole world and—”

“Uh,” I look around desperately. “Hey! Isn’t that Ms Marjory?”

I point at a lady covertly darting to her car a few houses away. She’s army-crawling, hoping the Housewife won’t spot her.

“Marjory!” shrieks the Housewife in delirious wonder. “Did you watch the Young and the Restless this week?? OHMYGOD I can’t believe how MAD Victor is!! Let’s talk about it!”

While she’s distracted I manage to make it to the safety of my car and lock the doors with a quickness, breathing heavily, sweat dripping off my face. I glance back at Marjory, seeing her pinned by the harpy-like mouth of the Housewife. I turn away rapidly, lest I draw attention to myself.

I’m sorry Marjory. May God have mercy on your soul.

My bastard apt complex took my amazingly awesome, super advanced, unbelievably cool gas oven. I mean for real, this thing was something straight out of a sci-fi movie. I’m sure it was a missing artifact from the 9th Dimension or something and if I’d only had a little more time I could’ve figured out how to harness it’s vast abilities to shoot lasers out of the range, stop global warming with the broiler, and cure cancer with the little shiny knob.

SIGH

But it had to go, I guess. Despite it’s vast potential it kept shorting out my circuit breaker (don’t ask why a gas stove needs to be plugged in…that’s just part of it’s mystique).

Another few hours at Chuck E Cheese over the weekend, another hour or so with my notebook…

1.) Understand the nature of cats and you’ll have a good understanding of the nature of women.

2.) There’s this kid with only one arm running around. Kinda disturbing watching his stump gyrate of its own accord. It’s good he lives in an age when his missing limb isn’t so big a deal. In some ancient tribe he would SO be lion food.

3.) I’m terrible with faces. There are two folks here that I’ve met before and they’re waving me down and striking up a convo with me and the whole time I’m thinking “Who the hell are these people?”

4.) Somebody here named their child “Shine.” Poor kid.

5.) I think I’m going to ask the cashier for her number.

6.) I think men can be broadly classified into two categories: those who wear hair gel and those who don’t.

7.) That girl firing the balls at the Big Mouth 2000 can’t shoot worth a damn.

8.) “I’m not speeding, I’m qualifying.” “Drive it like you stole it.” I hate people who have hardcore bumper stickers like that but drive slow as shit.

9.) I’m not a fan of people who dress formally in informal circumstances.

10.) I am the only person in this place (that I’ve seen) with a notepad and pencil.

11.) That obese woman over there has the most amazing smile. One second I found her unattractive and the next, I nearly melted. I would do damn near anything for that smile. Just…stunning.

12.) I just tried to write a list of qualities my ideal g/f would have. I gave up. I don’t think there is such a list. I think everyone brings some unique and awesome combination of traits to the table. Qualities that I might hate in PersonX I might adore in PersonY.

13.) I’m 28 years old and I’m still growing up. Sad, really. (EDIT: I’m now 31 and STILL growing up. hahaha )

14.) If you’re an extremely overweight woman, for God’s sake don’t cut your hair short.

15.) You know, as I’ve sat here for an hour or two watching a smorgasbord of society pass in front of me, I’m struck by a sudden, horrible revelation: I think big hair is slowly making a comeback…

16.) Randomly staring at my Chuck E Cheese ticket I realized they’re produced in my hometown of Shamokin, PA!

My ass aches. My legs ache. All of lower me aches! I recently started this strength training dvd. Intense. My legs are deliciously stiff. The lady instructor is totally cracked-out, I expect her at any moment to flex and shatter the tv screen. If she’s not on steroids, it’s just cause they’re scared of her.

So I’m at work and the cord for my headphones is too long, so I wrapped it around my keyboard extender thingee. Well as I moved it must have resituated somehow, because when I turned to answer the phone I nearly strangled myself.

Can you imagine how embarassing that would have been? I don’t even know that I’d have the nerve to haunt my building if that had happened. I’d be the laughing stock of the afterliving community. And certainly no living mortal would be scared of me.

1st PLACE – Lucien Soulban: Let me ask you this, how can *anyone* write bad (and I mean awful) VAMPIRE love scenes?? Well, ladies & gents, this man has accomplished that feat. If real vampires exist, please, you must kill this man.

2nd PLACE – Terry Goodkind: I hate this man’s writing with a passion. He’s an awful, long-winded hack.

3rd PLACE – Robert Jordan: I only made it halfway through his first book. He’s cut from the same cloth as Goodkind. I just wanna put his hands in a nutcracker and horribly mangle them so he can never type again!

Notable Mention – Trudi Canavan: She would be tied for 3rd, but at least she redeemed herself (barely) by making the stories engaging.

I’m sure I’ll think of more, but that’s it for now. What author do you really hate?

P.S.–the only good thing about these pricks is that it shows that anyone can get publish

So I was at Chuck E Cheese’s on Saturday…

1.) On A Mission
There he was, sweat on his brow, intense concentration (the kind normally reserved for disarming nuclear weapons) on his face, white-knuckled as his hands gripped the dual joysticks of the Star Wars pod-racing video game. Oblivious to the anaconda-like line of people snaking out behind him and uncaring that a cauldron of hateful stares was churning around him, he continued to pump token after token into the machine in his unholy quest for level 18.

2.) Life, Love, and Work
People have a dating pattern. A typical template forged sometime in their younger years that they tend to seek out their whole lives unless they work hard to change it.

I figure the same is true in 3 areas: environmental, dating, and occupational. Gettin heavy, but stay with me with here.

Know the dating/lover template I already mentioned? Same principle applies to your ‘hood or your city. There’s certain areas (the country, NYC, LA, San Francisco, Dallas, suburbs, etc…) that just appeal to you as a person. And there’s areas within those areas (mountains, south Midtown, East Beach, Hollywood, etc…) that appeal to you even more. That great feeling you get when you find your “area” is your environmental template.

Same deal with occupational. When your work is your life and there is no clear boundary between the two, when you truly love what you do, that’s when you know you’ve found your occupational template.

For maximum long-term happiness, I guess I should work at all 3 of my templates.

3.) Santa, the Horrible Truth
Grandma did not get run over by a reindeer. It was Santa. He simply couldn’t have Mrs Klaus finding out about the affair.

4.) Mining for Gold in Them Thar Hills
Dating is a numbers game. Quantity until you find quality.

5.) Kool-Aid rocks, but sometimes we just add too much sugar. This truism can be applied in many circumstances.

6.) The Skee-Ball Queen
They she stood, eagerly towering behind children a third her size. Shifting from foot to foot, she impatiently eyed every single ball the children threw, waiting for one of the kiddies to get bored.

A kindergartener moved on and the big woman muscled her way in, her fat ass easily displacing the two kids at the lanes on either side of her. With a satisfied huff she set down a massive cup of tokens, cracked her knuckles, and started playing skee-ball.

7.) Know When to Hold ‘em and When to Fold ‘em
In 21st Century America, with its’ declining birthrate and superior social networking, Friends are the New Family. Know which friends to hold onto and work to bridge the gaps that time creates between you and them. Also, know when to let go of someone who’s more memory than friend. But always hold onto at least one friend from every stage of your life. You’ll thank yourself later, I think.

8.) Is there such a thing as an introverted extrovert?
Because that’s what I am. In a new situation or with a new group, I go into introverted mode. After enough time in the new group of people (this can take minutes or days), I explode into extroversion. I used to think of myself as a “crock-pot.” I’m thinking now that a “time-delay microwave” would maybe be more accurate.

Ok, so you’re a single 20-something guy. Word life homey. You can cook Ramen noodles and microwave dinners, but that’s about it. Let’s face it, you’re in desperate need of a cooking guide. But wait, what if you’re a vegetarian too? HA! Yeah, you’re so totally boned.

I was in the same shoes several years ago, it’s part of the reason why I gave up on vegetarianism then. I lived off the most basic of basic food staples for about a year and a half. Well, recently I came back to veggie’ism, a little older and a little wiser, more-or-less determined to be a little more robust this time around, and bless your lucky stars, cause I’m takin you along for the ride! In that vein, as I experiment with new dishes (food, not women), I’ll post the recipes here, translated into single 20′something guy terms. Obviously, women can use this as well, just don’t be insulted if it seems as if I’m talking down to you. I’m not, it’s just that many 20′something guys really, truly do not know even the most basic things about cooking (hell, many women these days may not come to think of it).

But before we do anything, we gotta establish some things.
1.) If you know a young, struggling (they’re all struggling) veggie, give them this link.
2.) To be a veggie means you MUST be experimental with food and you MUST learn to cook. Sorry.
3.) Why are you a vegetarian? Healthy lifestyle? Religion? Philosophy? I’m not shooting for max healthiness here, so modify the recipes to suit yourself if you are.
4.) THERE IS NO WRONG WAY TO COOK FOOD. If you get the wild idea to throw some tabasco sauce on brussel sprouts, go to town son. It doesn’t matter how badly you think you’ve screwed up, cause I guarantee you that someone, somewhere would love your nasty, burnt creation.
5.) Speed man speed! All these recipes are gonna be souped-up and turbo-charged for MAX speed. One, cause I’m lazy and hate cooking (though cooking with a gf can be very fun). And two, cause I’m sure you’re busy as hell and don’t have much time for alot of advanced stuff.
6.) Common sense here. If you somehow manage to kill yourself in the making of this food, you’re an idiot and prolly deserved to bite the big one. Long live evolution. I take no responsibility for anything. If you have to ask yourself “is this clean” then it ain’t clean. There’s no sniff-test in food prep.
7.) If you’re a vegetarian chick (or meat-lover who wants to break me—i’m a pushover for pork roast) who lives within reasonable distance of me, message me. Now, goddam you. Yes, this is a signed invitation.

K, so today we’re all about spaghetti.

—Spaghetti with Garlic and Oil

Prep:
1.) Go to a grocery store. This is a large building that typically houses all manner of vials, bottles, and other strange artifacts that confound you. It’s the place you go to when you want to view a wider beer selection.
2.) If you don’t have one, you’ll need to buy a pot. Not “pot” mind you, but A pot. You can find this in the food store as well. You’ll want one that is about a hand-and-a-half deep and wide.
3.) Optional: buy a pasta scoop as well. It’s like this thing that would have been a spatula but some cruel god warped it into a spoon looking thing with teeth. Yeah, I know all these purchases are cutting into your beer money, that’s why this one is optional. But just remember, if you don’t have a pasta scooper thing, then you’re gonna need some manner of stick to stir and scoop with.
4.) Buy spaghetti (or linguine if ya want). It’s this long hard skinny stuff that comes in a foot-long cardboard box. For this recipe, I recommend you try to find some that has thinner strands (it’ll say something similar to “thin” on the box). Oh yeah, you’ll need 1 pound’s worth (16 ounces).
5.) Buy 3 garlic cloves. These are bizaare-looking things that you probably can’t find on your own. Go to the area that seems to have lots of fruits and whatnot and just start randomly asking people if they’ve seen “garlic cloves.” Sooner or later you’ll hit paydirt, but don’t leave just yet. Since you’re in the area, you’ll want to snag:
6.) Optional: Buy 1 dried red chile pepper. Just look for all these shriveled-up vegetable looking things. Dried red chile pepper’s are frequently not named the same from store to store, so this is gonna be a toughie, but with some perseverance (and the help of those guys with nametags who spend like 5 hours filling up one teeny rack of apples), you can prolly find this bad boy. We’re all counting on you.
7.) Buy olive oil. Yes, there is something real called this. It’s not just popeye’s girl. It typically comes in a glass bottle.
8.) Buy some salt and black pepper. Yeah, something really cheap for a change!
9.) Buy a large skillet. This is found in the same area as the pot. Basically, it’s a pan that’s about two inches deep and about 2 hands wide.
9.5) Optional: Buy a strainer. It’s this plastic bowl thing with holes. You’ll know it when you see it.

Cookin Time:
10.) Wash your hands. You do have soap, right?
11.) Take apart the garlic cloves. You’ll know what I mean by “take apart” when you try. Peel away the outer layers and rip off the, uh, stalk-looking thing up top to reveal these hidden egg or ball-type things. Those are the suckers ya want.
12.) Chop those egg-sack-lookin-things up son! You prolly don’t have a cutting board, so use a plate. Try to cut ‘em up as thinly as possible.
13.) Put the skillet on the stove on medium heat. Let it sit for a couple mins for the heat to warm the pan uniformly.
14.) Toss in 3 tablespoons of olive oil.
15.) Toss in the chopped-up garlic.
16.) Take the seeds outta the red pepper (I chop it into 4 parts and shake them out myself) and chuck that bad boy in as well. NOT the seeds. They go in the trash. Unless you wanna include ‘em. Who knows, it may rock.
17.) Basically, continuously stir until the garlic turns a pale blond color (about 2-3 mins). If you used it, pick out the chili pepper and trash it.
18.) K, you’re done with this part. Meanwhile you shoulda been workin the spaghetti angle over on another burner…

19.) Fill up the pot with 6 quarts of water. If you don’t have a little measuring cup thingee, well…fuq it…just fill the pot up like halfway.
20.) Turn the stove on high and boil the water. When it hits boiling, stir in 2 or 3 tablespoons of salt…or 4 even, I don’t care.
21.) Dump the spaghetti in. It’ll prolly be stickin up and all. Give it 15 seconds or so to soften then use your pasta scoop (or stick) to push those rebels down into the mix.
22.) Give it another 15 seconds or so, stir the pasta a lil, then put the lid on (you DID get a pot with a lid right?). Don’t cover the pot completely, cause the cauldron will boil over. Don’t ask me why. I think String Theory explains it.
23.) Keep stirring it periodically (if ya don’t, the spaghetti sticks together).
24.) After 4 or 5 mins, start periodically plucking out a spaghetti strand and trying it. You’ll know it’s done when it’s no longer stiff, but still has some strength to it. Also, it’ll lose all taste of flour and start tasting kinda…buttery…I guess. But whatever you do, don’t overcook it.

25.) Scoop out about a half-cup (two shot glasses) of spaghetti water and dump it into the pan with the garlic and oil.
26.) Drain the spaghetti. This is gonna be tricky if you didn’t buy the strainer…time to improvise!
27.) Dump the drained spaghetti in the pan with the garlic, water, and oil and stir, stir, stir.
28.) Put some on plates and use pepper and salt to individually season it to the individual’s taste.

Oh yeah, this makes a lot of food. Like enough for a few people at least. Good luck!

Ok, let’s be blunt. Sometimes you’re at work and as much as you want to deny it, you have to “take the Cleveland Browns to the Super Bowl.” So you go to the restroom. It’s empty, you pick the stall farthest in, tucked in the back with only one other stall next to it.

“Good,” you think. Au contraire, mon ami.

Scenario 1) You’re sitting down for no more than 30 seconds and someone walks in and despite there being FIVE OTHER EMPTY STALLS, chooses to sit in the one RIGHT NEXT TO YOU. Grrr. I just want to shout out, “WTF is wrong with you?!”

Scenario 2) Someone sits down in a stall as far from you as possible, yet despite the distance you can hear them grunting and groaning so loudly it sounds like they’re in some VietCong torture chamber. I just want to shout out, “WTF is wrong with you?! Just do your business quietly!!” I mean, COME ON, this isn’t a goddam sporting event or anything.

Scenario 3) Then there are some folks who are just plain repulsive. You purposely avoid a stall because you see the toilet seat is urine-stained and/or covered with god-knows-what. But guess what? That doesn’t seem to stop the filthy prick who wanders in seconds after you and with nary an attempt to clean the seat, plops down happily. I just want to shout out, “WTF is wrong with you?!”

Scenario 4) The scholar, ah, the scholar. They sit there, gleefully ensconced in a public restroom stall, flipping through every page in whatever god-awful magazine they’ve drug into there with them. WHY?! WHY NOT JUST READ IT AT YOUR DESK?! Why do you have so much time on your hands that you have nothing better to do than lounge around on an uncomfortable plastic seat for 30 minutes reading Newsweek? You want escapism? GO FOR A DAMN WALK!

Scenario 5) The worst of all worlds. Clearly some higher power hates you if this occurs. This is a combination of all the above.

The clock strikes 9:00am and there he/she is, your workplace archnemesis… Normally this cubicle challenger is met with your disdain (sprinkled with barely concealed loathing). Normally you plan your day well in advance, plotting minor passive-aggressive antagonisms to unleash upon the Hated. But not this day! No, for this day—horror of horrors!—you both come in wearing the same OUTFIT. Not just a matching outfit mind you, but the SAME one.

Oh no! The workplace meeting moth has spotted you two as you eye each other. The meeting moth hurls herself in your direction and begins her litany of cliches. “Did you two plan this?” and “How come I didn’t get the memo?” and worst of all “You’re like twins!”

Then the chunky guy with the 20 kabillion megapixel cellphone ambles over. “I gotta take a pic of this!” he says as he pulls the massive camera/video/laptop/music/automobile/wi-fi/gps/neighborhood-deli cellphone out of his man bag.

Thus you are forced to stand next to your despised corp mate, both with feigned and bitter smiles, while the meeting moth stands behind you both making some ridiculous expression (with optional dual rabbitt ear ears).

The clock strikes 8:03am. Never a good start to the day.

Project: Cyber-Sex is at a standstill. I gave up on a volunteer and trolled the seedier areas of the inet, looking for a cyber forum whereby I could lose my cyber-virginity as sluttily as possible. Nothing major here. Just wanted to get in, do some cybering and get out. But oh no, it could never be so easy.

All the ladies I chatted to—get a load of this—wanted to GET TO KNOW ME FIRST. Seriously. WTF. I mean, why not just go to a bar then?? But whatever, so I tried to get to know them, but they were talkin’ about a couple hours worth of idle chit-chat before they were ready to “get it on.”  *rolls eyes*  Anyways, I did however manage to strike up some conversation in the forums about “cyber-sex.”

Resolved: Most cyberers cyber because they’re really horny and it’s a natural extension of online chatting.

Resolved pt2: There are a shit-load of sexual subcultures online! HOLY SHIT. From bestiality, to whipping, to Domination/Submission forums where all the women call all the men “sir” and/or “master” to forums where all the men call the women “maam” and/or “mistress.” Wife-swapping, organized group-sex, furry-sex, plushy-sex, sex-groups-i-can’t-even-figure-out-yet. Wow. And I thought I was a freak! I’m a joke compared to some of these folks!