Seeking the Dark Tower

On the path that eventually leads to the clearing in the woods, the Charyou Tree. Fraught with danger, fear and loss, and yet, fulfillment. Welcome.

Sunday, July 30, 2006

Stacy's not good enough

each time i listen to fountains of wayne's song "Stacy's Mom" i grin a big wide grin. And this is why:

Stacy, can I come over after school? We can hang around by the pool! Did your mom get back from her business trip? Is she there, or is she trying to give me the slip?

You know, I'm not the little boy that I used to be,

I'm all grown up now, baby can't you see....
Stacy's mom has got it goin' on!
She's all I want and I've waited for so long....


Stacy, can't you see you're just not the girl for me..
I know it might be wrong,
but I'm in love with Stacy's mom!


The attraction of.. ah.. mature women. =D. Com'n guys, stop eeeeeing and hissing, i know each of you have had THAT fantasy too, eh? *nudges*

Got milf i mean milk? XD

Ralph and the stars

Ralph did not so much wake up as he did move from a state of sleep to un-sleep. He opened his eyes to a black nothingness, and then blinked a few times, as if such an act would shed light in the infinitesimal darkness his eyes perceived. He could not comprehend it. Why is it nothing… am I blind? was the first thought that ran through his barely conscious brain. Then his mind and the rest of his consciousness, held up in the customs while checking out of never-land, finally caught up with Ralph and woke him up, reinstating sense and order into this perception of nothingness.

Damn rag, he muttered as he reached up from within his bedroll to pull off the quilt that he had snuggled all the way up to his forehead. Darkness immediately gave way to a splash of soft glittering jewels, pinned upon a coat of the darkest velvet, gracing his view and welcoming him back from his sleep. It was an exceedingly clear and crisp night, and at this altitude, the night sky was so clear you could almost imagine you were staring at the sky through a telescope already. A sudden image came to Ralph; a huge galactic star-map studded with so many pinpoints and an arrow pointing to one of the miniscule dots somewhere down the bottom left side, with the words YOU ARE HERE ->. It was oddly romantic, and it made him smile.

Not millions but trillions of stars clustered and squeezed into the huge expense of sky, ringed only by the crowns of the ponderosas that surrounded this glade. Ralph drew in a soft gasp of wonder. Out here there was not even a cottage light to be seen, so even the faintest of stars could be seen without much effort. Star clusters were everywhere, and the Milky Way ran its faint band, traversing the lower left region of his view. To the right he could see the slightest sliver of the waxing moon, not bright enough to block out the nearby stars but enough to show itself as a huge grin in the sky, like the Cheshire cat. Right above Ralph was the Corona Borealis, with its seven sparkling gems inlaid in the crown staring down at him. He led his eyes down to the unruly mess (to him at least) that was Serpens and Ophuichus (heck, even the name seemed messy), and then finally settled is eyes on the most discernable constellation to him. It was Scorpio, the bright and elegant sequence of stars that held one of the fire-jewels in the night, Antares. He snaked his eyes from the imaginary head of the celestial scorpion all the way down to the curl of the stinger.

He smiled again, this time with a tinge of sadness. He remembered, almost a year ago, and halfway across the world, had he first recognized the constellation. And when he had left that place and took only its memories, it was bittersweet.

Lay as I might
halfway across the world
where even stars may shine different
tonight I walk in your dreams yet again
if I can't see you now
I'll wait for you
to put the light back in my eyes

Then again they didn’t seem to shine so differently after all, he mused.

It was a full five minutes that Ralph spent motionless, with only his eyes moving from constellation to constellation. Time to time he would catch sight of a dim satellite crawling its way across the sky, and follow it for a while, and then he would dart his eyes away to catch a shooting star. Finally he settled on Polaris, and propped his hands behind his head, content. He watched each breath that he exhaled form a little mist that lingered in the scant light for a while before dissipating. The campfire beside him had burnt low; all that was left was steady warmth and a few red embers, like the stars in the sky, only red. Bliss was close enough to perfection to be content with.

Ralph snuggled back into his quilt, and went back to sleep with a content look that was few and far between come these tiring days and nights. Trials and tribulations may come soon, but for now, it was respite, and it was perfect.

It was bliss.

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Saturday, July 29, 2006

Out of the warbling thinny came forth this:
Soon followed after by this:

Sunday, July 23, 2006

speed knots

here is how you, the asian dude, should pick up caucasian chicks.
*eastern msyticism + mumbo jumbo shoelace tying voodoo*
or at least manage to save 0.03s of your time in acutally fumbling your laces.
or just go velcro.
From my favorite vlog, rocketboom with amanda.

Saturday, July 22, 2006

Cthulhu Visits Insectary

ok, this i will share so that if i dissapear off the face of the earth you might have an inkling to my fate.

As most of you might know, i have been staying over in lab the past few days for an experiment. Having recently obtained more than 30 species/samples of flies, including a species of goose-dung specialists Themira Flavicoxa, we had a few time-critical experiments we needed to do. And especially so since the bird flu scare has killed off most of our sources of goose/duck dung. (amazing isnt it. want shit also cant get. harrumph.)
and what better time than now?

That actually means overnighting in lab. Again. So, there i was, waking every 2 hour intervals to check on the flies. Still am, in fact. That means, NO GOOD SLEEP AT ALL. My head right now is a tired fuzzle of static and white noise. sigh. That also means that you might fuck up the cultures and have to redo the procedures each 2 hour interval, turning it into a 4 hour interval.

Now, the place where i work in, called the insectary, consists of nothing more than a narrow room cluttered with incubators and rows upon rows of cultures of flies. the door lies on one side of the narrow rectangle. It was yesterday when i was sleeping on one of the bench tables with my measly bedroll, when i thought i had fallen asleep on the microscope chair, eyes ringed on the microscope itself. I started waking to some.. sensation, and the door suddenly opened a little, then closed shut again. As if something had kicked the door open halfway then decided not to come in. And THEN i felt my friggin chair being dragged towards the door, which was in fact still partially opened.

What do you do in such circumstances?

You yell and try to move your limbs that cannot move and finally after an eternity wake up and nearly fall off the bench table.

I kind of think that cthulhu might have been giving me a friendly psychic tug, maybe it had been one of his horrible tentacles that had sneaked in and decided to drag my chair to his warm maw. only that it was invisible. gah.




Do Not Fuck With Cthulhu.

maybe i should lay off the calamari for a while. IF you dont see me for the dinner, maybe its just because cthulhu is actually snacking on my eternal soul. nyeh.

Monday, July 17, 2006

...and no birds sing


'O, what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge has withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.

'O, what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
So haggard and so woe-begone?
The squirrel's granary is full,
And the harvest's done.

'I see a lily on thy brow
With anguish moist and fever dew;
And on thy cheek a fading rose
Fast withereth too.'

'I met a lady in the meads,
Full beautiful--a faery's child,
Her hair was long, her foot was light,
And her eyes were wild.

'I made a garland for her head,
And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;
She looked at me as she did love,
And made sweet moan.

'I set her on my pacing steed,
And nothing else saw all day long;
For sideways would she lean, and sing
A faery's song.

'She found me roots of relish sweet,
And honey wild, and manna dew,
And sure in language strange she said,
"I love thee true!"

'She took me to her elfin grot,
And there she wept and sighed full sore;
And there I shut her wild, wild eyes
with kisses four.

'And there she lulled me asleep,
And there I dreamed--Ah! woe betide!
The latest dream I ever dreamed
On the cold hill's side.

'I saw pale kings, and princes too,
Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;
Who cried---"La belle Dame sans Merci
Hath thee in thrall!"

'I saw their starved lips in the gloam,
With horrid warning gaped wide,
And I awoke and found me here,
On the cold hill's side.

'And that is why I sojourn here,
Alone and palely loitering,
Though the sedge is withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.

Saturday, July 15, 2006

The Gunslinger: Prelusion

The Gunslinger walked on in the wasteland that was the apotheosis of all deserts. He walked on steadily, head bowed from the sun, not hurrying, not tarrying. Somewhere, he knew, maybe in the same desert, maybe in other worlds than this (for he knew there were many) a Wordslinger was chronicling his every step. Hush now, Gunslinger, the wind whispered in his ear. He pushed it aside. The Gunslinger walked on in the wasteland that was the apotheosis of all deserts, seeking the Dark Tower.


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