Saturday, July 30, 2011

Blow out the Candle, You’re Making Everyone Feel Awkward

Could the true danger in life come from trying too hard? Is evil a result of overexertion, overextension or a lack of motivation to connect with others? Could the danger lie in trying too little? Mercy should not be hard won, instead, it should be given freely to those, yes even those most undeserving. Can I have mercy on myself? Will I still love me tomorrow?


 

I'm approaching a significant birthday and it's coming a lot faster than anticipated. I've come a long way since I woke up at 10 years of age thinking, wow, my birthday is just another day. That pre-Christmas excitement was to never return. Now, don't get me wrong, I've had more than my share of amazing birthdays thanks to amazing people who have made certain I enjoyed it. Hugs and doodlebugs to all you family and friends. This is the first August that I am celebrating while fighting off moments of dour introspection. The questions – What have you accomplished? Have you made a difference for the better? What do you want the next quarter century to look like? Really echoing the main question – Is everything going to be okay?

Other questions-


 

When will I have overplayed the new Panic at the Disco CD so that I am sick of it?

  1. Never, how could I? For just suggesting the fact I demand your immediate beheadal. Beheadival? Ah. Beheading.
  2. Probably sometime in the next month at the current rate of play.
  3. When the Deep Ones replace their slithery song for the glory of Panic's

When will I schedule the next Writers At Wit's End meeting?

  1. Right after I am finished with writing this
  2. When I learn to write with my new, steam-powered hand.
  3. The last minute, and in trying to please everyone, satisfy no one.

What is my weapon of choice during zombie attack?

  1. Chainsaw – it makes up for all the noise in pure carnage.
  2. Shotgun – because well, it's my boomstick.
  3. Long-handled axe – silent and sharp.

What kind of character will feature in my next unicorn story?

  1. A tortured fairy
  2. A half-human child
  3. A disfigured pegacorn

Will I finish my Game of Thrones novel before it's due back at the library?

  1. I better, because the wait is all kinds of crazy.
  2. I will be bored of the storyline and return it with no sear in my conscience.
  3. I will become so engrossed I immediately buy all the others available and find some way to watch the series.

Will I be able to sustain interest in growing out my hair through this summer heat?

  1. No great feat, I mean, come on, it's the Pacific Northwest for pity's sake.
  2. I will get bored and chop it all off in a fit of pique. It will have nothing to do with weather.
  3. I will get something done at the stylist. Maybe. Or not.


 

Tune in next time for the pointless blatherings of a sincere fool.


 


 


 


 

Jeffrey The Kindly Pirate

This was a little story I cooked up last minute for a fun birthday card.  There are many, many errors I am sure, but I wanted to share it with you anyway.

Ahoy and attend the tale of Jeffrey, the kindly pirate.  Sink me, you say, a kindly pirate?  Well, sit down and splice the mainbrace with a clap of thunder as I avow all below to be truthful, aye and right so:
Breakbones Killagutty, better known to all the world by his piratin’ name, Captain Jeffrey, was a mate of distinction, class and violins.  He was born in a small town called Bantry Bay and had a mighty wink for all the lasses when he was a child, as he was grown, he was no less of a maid’s man.  All day he winked and sighed to the passerby but all that he tried to woo turned him down for his low standing and gor-awful name.  Sure, he was good for a flirt, but not for the marryin’.  It got him so down that he turned his deadlights to what would become his great mistress- the sea.  T'were not long before he gained passage as a Jack Tar on the beautiful ship, Battle Dryad.
 One day his ship was caught in the doldrums and the men began to go mad.  The scurvy that had set in the previous week probably didn’t help.  One by one, crewmates murdered each other, leapt overboard, or sat there with a doomed and haunted look.  A week into those narsty straits, the sail still refusing to take wind, day dawned to find the parley boat missing along with the Battle Dryad’s captain and first mate.  They had taken French Leave and even the Jolly Roger seemed to sink in defeat.  But not Killagutty (who had already taken the name of Jeffrey), no!  Something bloomed in his breast, it was the onus of courage and the willingness to lead these scurvy dogs out of their sad fate.  He quickly got to rationing the remaining water, even foregoing his portion more often than not.  Two days later a Nor’wester came down and brought them to the nearest isle, where they learned the captain and his mate had been consigned to the briny depths when the other pirates stationed there had learned where he had come from.  The crew renewed their stock and before they pulled anchor, unanimously elected Jeffrey Captain. 
He took the duty to heart and hand, leading the swabs and mateys to greater glory and riches than previously imagined.  But he had this odd habit of pillaging only 25% of a mark’s entire stock, taking no prisoners but killing no one either.  It went that he would rather scuttle his ship than even harm a pod of dolphins.  Though he had the wind of many rivals, he always let them save face and withstood even the haughtiest of sauce back.  Captain Jeffrey the kind was respected far and near, he was even approached by a number of Royal Navies and offered letters of marque, but he was still loyal to the corsair ways and his crew.  He would never cry havoc, but dreamt of peaceful lagoons and honest air, a man smart as paint and lovely as fresh, brisk sailing.  Always a great supporter of democratic process aboard his ship, but Blood and Thunder, he was the victim of homicidal mutiny within a week!  Shiver me timbers.