I just read about a meme in which people improve the open lines of books by following them with the line “And then the murders began.” Take the opening line of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas: “We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold. And
(fun fact: judging by the url he links to, we have the same source: the Grammar Girl podcast)
Yooooo! So this is where all the wtf visitors to my site over the past couple of days spawn?
How on EARTH can people be so daft as to suggest all text should be the same size and that there are "rules" that websites should stick to? How can people push the boundaries and make websites that people LIKE to visit if you don't experiment?
Please can one of the boring-compliance officers point me to the O'Reilly car-leasing-website-design-rulebook I should stick to. Today I will be adding Mr T to my website. I await the horror and shock and awe. Hahahaha.
Really looking forward to it. Don't listen to @HardwareGeek. Everything about what you do is intriguing. Are you still looking for round rocks, by the way? It's been many years since you've posted an update on that front.
Lots of cool rocks here abouts. Osoyoos Megaliths a dozen or more.
Echos that carry and carry.
Special stones coming out of the woodwork.
@bb36e They did kind of have aspirin. I don't think it's the exact same compound but medicines made from willow bark have been used since ancient times. Indeed, some recent evidence suggests Neanderthals may have chewed the stuff as a painkiller.
Willow bark contains salicylic acid which is indeed an analgesic but somewhat strenuous to your stomach wall lining. The acetylated version is called acetylsalicylic acid (ASS = Aspirin) which is more tolerable to your stomach
If anyone decides they want some context for the 'femur' quote (which was from the Whateley Academy forum) after all, go for it:
Asshole Werewolf is an Asshole
Dinner was short, and Razorback was fed again and happy, the small group of mutants and weres wandered through the woods near the Weretown community. Jericho was keeping an eye on things while Eloise and Ben talked to Sara Waite, who'd come along looking to talk to Eloise about the Voodoo-wolves. Carl, Sara's errant werewolf “mate,” whom was annoying, obnoxious and a general pain in the ass was tagging along ostensibly to provide “security.” This was his word for harassing Razorback to the point where the lizard-kid was stalking in a foul mood, growling unconsciously, with the red nictitating membranes half-slid across his eyes. The rigidly erect spines on his body gave testament to the fact that he was seriously debating injuring Carl, possibly eating him, if the posture and sign language were any indication.
“Relax Razor, come over here for a minute while Sara and the weres talk. We'll do a bit of recon for a few.” Jericho said mildly. Normally Razorback would blow off the kind of mockery and taunting Carl was laying on pretty thick, but he was verging on a full-out frenzy. Not a good thing.
-I can take that shit from ignorant pinky bipeds but I'll be DAMNED if I'll take it from people who KNOW.- Razor's signing was jerky, agitated, but he came over and started walking. His growling became louder as Carl started following.
“Hey Carl, stay here and keep an eye on Eloise and Sara, just in case.”
“Shit, they don't need me to...” He was interrupted as Jericho took the safety off his shock rifle and aimed at the were's torso. Carl had seen what crazy devisor-tech weapons could do and halted.
Jericho smiled in a way that could only be described as evil. “Actually, I insist. Wait here and we'll give you a milk-bone later when we get back.”
Carl's eyes narrowed and Jericho's face grew hard. “Me and my boy gonna talk about private shit. You're disinvited. So stay here and wait or we're gonna make you sit, Carl.”
Let's see if Shithead can learn from his mistakes...
“You want the stick, boy?” Carl waved the stick at Razorback, who was hopping back and forth, following the stick like an enthused dog. When Carl whipped the stick off into the darkness, and yelled, “Go get it boy!” Razorback tore off into the woods at full speed, barely a blur to anyone's vision.
“Stupid fucking lizard.” Carl said cheerfully.
“Carl, if we trained you better, could you be more of a fucking asshole?” Ben snarled at the pup that stood there with an unapologetic look on his face.
Eloise looked about ready to start yelling when a distant crash sounded, followed by the sound of tearing metal, another crash, more tearing metal, and several metallic crunches.
Sara looked off into the woods. “I think Razorback found the stick.”
Sure enough a rapidly-moving speedster lizard skidded to a halt in front of Carl, spraying him with a small shower of dirt and leaves. In his mouth he held a truck axle, dragging one wheel along the ground. The other wheel spun slowly in the air with a tic tic tic tic tic noise. Razor dropped it on Carl's feet, ignoring the yelp of pain and wagging his tail on all fours. The look was predatory, and to Jericho's lack of eyes, and Sara's perceptions, his posture promised further pain.
Eloise looked at Carl, annoyed. “First it's you getting mixed up with demon-girl, then you aggravate Merry, and now you can't leave the giant clawed, spined mutant kid who tears the demons apart like a wolf in a chicken hatchery alone? When will you learn?”
Jericho sighed, as Carl's jaw worked up and down like a beached fish. “You just had to encourage him, didn't you?”
Carl didn't hear him, he was instead staring at the expensive hubcaps on the wheel that he, himself had bought with his own ready cash a few months back. “My truck! You wrecked my truck you dirty, stinking scaled...” The stream of invective continued for several minutes while Razorback happily bathed in Carl's frustrations. The poor idiot was too stunned to even get angry.
“Don't worry, Carl, walking is good for you.” Sara snickered as she wandered over to stand by Jericho.
Eloise and Ben were trying desperately not to burst out laughing at Carl's stupidity, and Razor's puppylike revenge.
-Consider yourself lucky. Next time I'm fetching your femur.-
Carl proves just how stupid he is - again
Carl fixed Razorback with a look of pure disgust and hate. “What did the stupid lizard just say to me?”
Jericho gave a pleasant smile and said, “He said, and I quote.... Arf, arf arf, arfarfarf, arf.”
Ben and Eloise actually started snickering.
“He just bet me a million dollars that you won't have the guts to throw the stick again.” Sara pretended to examine her claws as she talked. “I've seen his investment portfolio too. You're on Razorback.”
“Is that right?” Carl picked up another stick and lobbed it into the woods again, showing his typical lack of common sense.
Jericho just sighed again, and Eloise looked at Carl like she was debating killing him herself.
“Hope you like the money, honey.” Carl smirked at Sara.
“Here we go again.” Jericho turned to Sara, pretending not to watch.
Eloise started moving forward, irritation writ plain on her face, with Ben flanking, face like a thunder cloud. They never got close.
Razorback let out an oddly quizzical chirp, then whipped the cricket bat off his back and attacked, showing just how fast a speedster going full-throttle could hit someone, repeatedly. Carl found his knees slammed out from under him, his torso and spine struck about four times apiece as Razorback whipped the bat around him, then ended up slammed to the ground by a shot to the face. Razor backed up as Carl whimpered and howled in pain, trying to stand, then ripped forward and proceeded to beat the ever-living shit out of the cocky werewolf with the bat in the span of a human breath.
Sara sighed as Jericho watched the spectacle with an immense amount of satisfaction. “Testosterone, the curse of modern man.”
Jericho smirked, “Are you sure about a bet for money, Sara? I thought he said that he was betting your boy here wouldn't be able to stand for the next ten minutes when he got done with him.”
“Well, he did mention something about femurs...” she stopped when the sound of claws tearing flesh sounded out and Carl screamed over a loud, wet, cracking noise. “Oh, there it is.”
Fetch this, dickweed
Razorback was waving the offending bone above the whining, pained werewolf in near-exact mimicry of the asshole's previous behavior.
Don't worry, Carl's a werewolf, so it will grow back. Just in time for him to piss off yet another person vastly more powerful than him, no doubt.