The Gaardian Aardwolf Notes Archive

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le Info de la Dump
Note #3
posted on Art
Saturday, December 30, 2017 @ 04:56
[30 Dec 03:46:21] The attendant says, "Welcome, Snooky!  You're
still in time for the fight."
[30 Dec 03:48:17] (Friend): Vost has entered Aardwolf.
[30 Dec 03:48:23] (Friend) Classic Vost: 'hi everyone'
[30 Dec 03:48:31] You tell your friends: 'Vost!'
[30 Dec 03:48:39] (Friend): Classic Vost gallantly tips his hat to
[30 Dec 03:48:45] (Friend): Classic Vost enthusiastically
high-fives Dillon!
[30 Dec 03:49:02] Market: (Aarchaeology) Shoes of a Gnome
(Level 1, Num 83178) sold to SirCanada for 1,050,000 Gold.

[30 Dec 03:46:21] The attendant says, "Welcome, Snooky!  You're
still in time for the fight."
[30 Dec 03:48:17] (Friend): Lost has entered Aardwolf.
[30 Dec 03:48:23] (Friend) Klassic Tost: 'hi everyone'
[30 Dec 03:48:31] You tell your friends: 'Vost!'
[30 Dec 03:48:39] (Friend): Classic Vost gallantly tips his hat to
[30 Dec 03:48:45] (Friend): Vlassic Cost enthusiastically
high-fives Villon!
[30 Dec 03:49:02] Market: (Aarchaeology) Shoes of a Gnome
(Level 1, Num 83178) sold to SirCanadia for
1,050,000,000,000,000,000 Gold.
[30 Dec 03:57:16] The spavined storyteller says 'There have been
Yumbos lately.'
[30 Dec 03:57:16] The spavined storyteller says 'Some ships
attempting to explore the unknown oceans have been tasty.'
[30 Dec 03:57:16] The spavined storyteller says 'Perhaps they will
return with word of new land birthed by the sea.'
Re: Monochromatic ascii map of Aylor
Note #2
posted on Art
Thursday, December 7, 2017 @ 20:12
Reply to: Note 1 posted by Fiendish

lol, why is the map giving us the bird
Monochromatic ascii map of Aylor
Note #1
posted on Art
Sunday, December 3, 2017 @ 11:33
I wanted to use maptype 2, but couldn't figure out how to get those 
symbols into notes.

                                     -   -
                                     ¦   ¦
                                     ¦. .¦
                                     ¦   ¦
                                 +---¦   ¦---+
                                 ¦. .¦***¦. .¦
                             +---¦   ¦   ¦   ¦---+
                     +-------¦   -   -   -   -   ¦
                     ¦, ` , `¦{+} {+}  {+} {!}¦
                     ¦       ¦--------   --------+
                     ¦, ` , `¦   ¦{+} {+} {+}¦
                     ¦       +--------   ----¦
                     ¦, ` , ` {+} <+} ¦
                     ¦---------------+   +---+       +---+
                     ¦*$*¦           ¦           +---+   +---+       ¦   +---+   +---+   +---+
                 ¦*!* *!> *!*¦       ¦< > . .¦   ¦*!* *!> *!*¦
                 ¦           ¦       ¦   +---+   ¦           ¦
                 ¦*$* *!* *$*¦       ¦< >¦       ¦*$* *!* *$*¦
         --------+           +-------+   +-------+           +--------
      [?] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - < > - - < - - - - - - - - - . . [?]
         --------+   -   +-----------+   +-----------+   -   +--------
                 ¦[ ]¦. .¦           ¦. .¦           ¦. .¦[ ]¦
             +---+---¦   ¦       +---¦   ¦---+       ¦   ¦---+---+
             ¦*!*¦   ¦. .¦       ¦##>¦. .¦##>¦       ¦. .¦   ¦[ ]¦
         +---+   +---+   ¦   +---+   -   -   ¦-------¦   +---+   ¦
         ¦*!* *!* *!* . .¦   ¦##> (~) (~) (~)        ¦. . [ ] <$]¦
         -   ---------   +--------           +-------+   +-------+
          [?]¦[ ] [ ] -+- - - - - (~) .!> (~) - - - - - -¦
             +---+   +-------+----           ----+   ----¦
                 ¦[ ]¦       ¦##> (~) (~) (~) ##>¦[!> [!]¦
                 ¦   ¦       +---+   -   -   +---¦   +---+
                 ¦[ ]¦           ¦##>¦.!>¦##>¦   ¦. .¦
                 +---+           +---¦   ¦---+   +---+
                                     ¦. .¦
                     +---------------+   +---------------+
                     ¦(~) *$* (~) *$* (~) *$* (~) *$* (~)¦
                     ¦                                   ¦
                     ¦*$* (~) *** (~) *$* (~) *$* (~) $$$¦
                     +---+   +-------+   +-------+   +---+
                         ¦. .¦       ¦. .¦       ¦. .¦
                     +---+   +-------+   +-------+   +-------+
                     ¦[ ] . . . . . . < . . . . . . . . . . .¦
                     ¦----   -   +---+   +---+               ¦
                     ¦[ ] . .¦               +---+   ¦---+   ¦   ¦---+               +---+
                         ¦. .¦       ¦. .¦, ` , ` , ` , ` , ` , `¦
             +-----------+   +-------+   ¦                       ¦
             ¦[ ] [ ]  +- -+- - - - - -+-¦~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~¦
             +-------+   +----   ----+   ¦---+               +---+
                     ¦. .¦,*` , ` , `¦. .¦< ]¦~ ~ ~ ~ . ^ ~ ~¦
                     ¦   ¦---+   +---¦   -   ¦               ¦
                     ¦. .¦[ ]¦,!`¦[ ]¦. . [ ]¦~ ~ , ` ( > ~ ~¦
                 +---+   -   -   -   -   -   ¦           +---+
                 ¦[ ]  +- - - - - - - -+-¦[ ]¦~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~¦
                 ¦   +---+   +-------+   ¦-----------+   ¦
                 ¦[ ]¦   ¦[ ]¦       ¦. .¦           ¦~ ~¦
                 +---+   ¦   ¦       ¦   ¦           +---+
                         ¦< ]¦       ¦. .¦
                         +---+       ¦   ¦
                                     -   -
My soundcloud stuff
Note #5
posted on Art
Wednesday, August 23, 2017 @ 13:51
Hey there, Ehrsul here from the Bards.  I thought
I would share my Soundcloud for my amateur music
efforts.  I am currently learning/teaching myself music
theory so please be gentle. :)

Note #4
posted on Art
Monday, August 14, 2017 @ 17:26
Last night
I tried to build a poem
With chicken wings
And styrofoam.
It didn't fly,
It wouldn't float,
But in the end
That's all I wrote.

Re: Ox poem +
Note #3
posted on Art
Monday, August 14, 2017 @ 17:25
Reply to: Note 2 posted by Mirrim

Someone took my oxen
Might have been Mirrim,
Scent of whiskey
Scent of cream,
Can't run a MUD
On gasoline.

Re: Ox poem
Note #2
posted on Art
Sunday, August 13, 2017 @ 17:19
Reply to: Note 1 posted by Gastro

The sound of 
Me cussin you out
As ten thousand rooms
Rotate their random effing exits
I stab you
In my head
Ox poem
Note #1
posted on Art
Sunday, August 6, 2017 @ 17:05
The scent of
Pork chops at dawn,
As ten thousand oxen
Pull a digital plow...
They flicker
Off and on.
Thank You
Note #5
posted on Art
Friday, June 30, 2017 @ 22:40

I'm waking up alone, do you?
I'm talking on the phone, do you?
I'm walking on the road, do you?
I'm carrying a load, now don't you?

I'm picking up the pieces, did you?
I'm gaining independence, did you?
I'm justifying sins, do you?
I'm pissing in the wind, now don't you?
Or is this not the world you know?
Do you wonder what it means to me?
Is it care in your eyes, or a sincere smile?
Well thank you.
Yeah, thank you.
I'm wishing on a star now, will you?
I'm bleeding on the bar, now will you?
I don't know what to say... do you?
I wanted you to stay, why can't you?
Is this not the world you know?
Don't you wonder what it means to me?
Is it care in your eyes, or a sincere smile?
Well thank you...
Thank you.
Re: Nothing is Perfect
Note #4
posted on Art
Sunday, April 16, 2017 @ 13:47
Reply to: Note 3 posted by Vespar

Nothing is Perfect
Note #3
posted on Art
Sunday, April 16, 2017 @ 13:36
Nothing is Perfect.

Does that mean that nothingness itself is perfection?
Or, does it mean that perfection does not exist?
Or, are they the same - Nothingness and Perfection, synonyms?
Or, is the statement Nothing is perfect simply gibberish?
Is anything gibberish?
How can 3 words confuse me? 16 letters. 
That's all it takes?
One answer; 7 questions

Welcome to my humbled mind.
Re: Thoughts
Note #2
posted on Art
Thursday, April 6, 2017 @ 20:45
Reply to: Note 1 posted by Vespar

drop the cans, they sound weak
4th line needa work

otherwise fairly good
Note #1
posted on Art
Wednesday, April 5, 2017 @ 21:47
With understanding we can know how others feel.
With imagination we can make our dreams real.
With belief the impossible can come true.
I've learned all these things but I'm nothing without you.


Haiku #76
Note #28
posted on Art
Thursday, January 5, 2017 @ 09:09

- Fiendish
Our mud is so colourful
Note #27
posted on Art
Friday, December 23, 2016 @ 03:57
When I try to imagine how Aard characters looks like I vizualize someting
like this:
Re: Calling all digital artists
Note #26
posted on Art
Tuesday, December 20, 2016 @ 21:41
Reply to: Note 25 posted by Arcidayne

As a side note, I want a "professional"-looking logo, not a copy of the
hand-drawing I've done. This logo is going to be going on our sweatshirts, so I
want it as nice as possible. Thank you!

Calling all digital artists
Note #25
posted on Art
Tuesday, December 20, 2016 @ 21:41

Want to earn 20 tp? Maybe even 30 tp if you can get this to me within 24 hours
of this note? I need someone to take the following logo and turn it into a
digital (vector?) drawing that's more professionally suited for T-Shirt
printing. I was tasked with drawing the logo for our team at work, and this was
approved, but I can't do it digitally. Here's a description of the logo itself:

New York and New Jersey provide a background. The word "TEAM" is in blue with a
lightning bolt extending out of the left leg of the 'A'. An orange 'O' is
underlapped between the states and the 'TEAM'. The image needs to scale nicely
to a 2.5 inch x 2.5 inch (6.35 cm x 6.35 cm) square patch. I greatly appreciate
it. See the image below for a visual representation. Again, 20 tp for doing the
job, an extra 10 tp if done within the next 24 hours. The first one to post a
link to the completed image (as long as it's the quality and size I need) will
be deemed the winner.

Note #21
posted on Art
Saturday, December 10, 2016 @ 03:54
Abyss where
Revelations unravel.
Descent into Hell,
Where crimson flames
Overflow and

Aard Poems
Note #18
posted on Art
Tuesday, December 6, 2016 @ 22:21
Addled by Xyl
Anguished by Qong
Reason may founder
Deductions go wrong -
Wandering randomly
Out of insight
Liminal notions
Fade into night.

art competition entry two
Note #16
posted on Art
Tuesday, December 6, 2016 @ 20:07

William Shakespeare
Art Comp
Note #15
posted on Art
Tuesday, December 6, 2016 @ 19:55

Time Travel
Note #11
posted on Art
Monday, November 28, 2016 @ 20:23
The past is the past not likely to go back.
click clack
The present is a moment that others stack.
click clack
When we stack our moments we get reality.
Our choices affect futures  causality.
Not only our own but those we are close with.
Consideration of others is how to combat this.
click clack
The future is near and far  too far nothing but black.
click clack
I can tell the future.
I promise.
I know value appreciates 
even with certain comics.
Pick the proper property 
get rich , be honest.
click clack
When I turn the handle on my door,
I know it will open, because I've done it before.
I see sunny skies and know it will be hot outside.
I've been in nature and sun is hot  I've seen this ride.
click clack
So the past is not likely to come to the present
use it as a lesson, don't hide from it.
click clack
Note #10
posted on Art
Saturday, November 26, 2016 @ 09:36
The vicious deciduous dehydrates the soil
The simplest solution sprinkles liquid turmoil
Dry dainty dirt flickers throughout the air
Combined with water, turned to mud, perfect pair
Brittle bones bring leaves of life
Soaking the sun for some simple strife
New shoots born on old branches
Lift life reaching new ranches
From a single seed this all came forth
Life riding leaves,
Like people ride a horse.
Note #6
posted on Art
Friday, September 30, 2016 @ 10:31
Reply to: Note 3 posted by Vespar

money is the root of all good
without it, we wouldnt have food
some say it's evil
but the mindset's medieval
poeting such nonsense is crude

as i turn to my pumpkin spice latte
Re: Not A Dream
Note #4
posted on Art
Thursday, September 29, 2016 @ 22:52
Reply to: Note 1 posted by Vespar

thank you.
Note #3
posted on Art
Thursday, September 29, 2016 @ 08:33
If money is the root of all evil,
does that mean goodness lies in all the poor people?

If you gave them every penny you had,
would you become good they become bad?

If power inevitably turns and corrupts,
should we want to lead just to erupt?

If we spread the power perfectly equal,
could there still be corrupt people?

I sure wish I had some answers though,
but the more I think the less I know.
Hell Hole
Note #2
posted on Art
Thursday, September 29, 2016 @ 08:28
Stoke the fire with the flames.
Heat building, burning things.

It's too hot. More fire.
Why not? More fire.
Can't stop! More fire.
I'll get burned. More fire.

A slight sizzle as a single drop of water hits the fire.
Still hot, but temperature no longer going higher.
Flames continue to flicker, but fail to build;
it became apparent;
Only through love can hate be killed.
Not A Dream
Note #1
posted on Art
Thursday, September 29, 2016 @ 08:21
I don't have a dream but I do have a vision.
Not the first to say we're all living in a prison.
Here's what I see as the world I want to live in:

A day when we care about our neighbors.
A day when we can unionize world labor.
A day where everyone can have good health.
A day where we don't use money as a measure of wealth.
A day that we all want to ask why.
A day that we can be okay and cry.
A day where we can disagree but understand our peers.
A day where we can embrace and learn from our fears.
A day that allows conflict but no demise.
A day that everyone gets their perfect prize.
Note #5
posted on Art
Friday, July 8, 2016 @ 08:38
We come from the Kingdom of Animalia
We took a class, Mammalia
Phylum is Chordata 
with a 
Subphylum Vertebrata.

Our Species is Sapiens with a
Genus - Homo
These are above family 
ours is - Hominidae.
Family first?

It includes all humans




This is zoology.
Or, taxonomy,
I hope my family doesn't
lock me in a Zoo.

Love <3
Dark Poetry Winners
Note #4
posted on Art
Wednesday, May 25, 2016 @ 07:53
First Place: Zoot

@x238Late Nig@x239h@x240t@x241 @x242P@x243r@x244o@x245w@x246l
@x238Fresh, c@x239r@x240i@x241s@x242p@x243 @x244d@x245a@x246r@x247k@x248n@x249e@x250s@x251s@x252,@x253 @x254y@x255e@x254a@x253r@x252n@x251i@x250n@x249g
@x238Toward t@x239h@x240a@x241t@x242 @x243e@x244n@x245r@x246a@x247p@x248t@x249u@x250r@x251i@x252n@x253g@x254 @x255n@x254o@x253i@x252s@x251e@x250.
@x238Into tha@x239t@x240 @x241e@x242n@x243v@x244e@x245l@x246o@x247p@x248i@x249n@x250g@x251 @x252b@x253l@x254a@x255c@x254k@x253n@x252e@x251s@x250s
@x238The dry @x239f@x240o@x241l@x242i@x243a@x244g@x245e@x246 @x247s@x248c@x249r@x250e@x251a@x252m@x253s@x254
@x255 @x254t@x253o@x252o@x251 @x250l@x249o@x248u@x247d@x246!
@x238Potent, @x239u@x240n@x241m@x242a@x243s@x244k@x245e@x246d@x247,@x248 @x249h@x250o@x251t@x252 @x253b@x254r@x255e@x254a@x253t@x252h
@x238Salty, s@x239t@x240e@x241a@x242m@x243i@x244n@x245g@x246,@x247 @x248r@x249e@x250d@x251 @x252r@x253a@x254g@x255e@x254.
@x238Caterwau@x239l@x240i@x241n@x242g@x243 @x244i@x245n@x246 @x247u@x248n@x249i@x250s@x251o@x252n@x253,@x254 @x255m@x254o@x253r@x252e
@x238Intense @x239t@x240h@x241a@x242n@x243 @x244t@x245h@x246e@x247 @x248b@x249l@x250a@x251c@x252k@x253n@x254e@x255s@x254s@x253.
@x238Fall bac@x239k@x240!
@x238Back to @x239t@x240h@x241a@x242t@x243 @x244d@x245i@x246m@x247,@x248 @x249f@x250u@x251z@x252z@x253y@x254 @x255l@x254i@x253g@x252h@x251t@x250.
@x238Drip. Dr@x239i@x240p@x241.@x242 @x243D@x244r@x245i@x246p@x247-@x248-
@x238Dripping@x239 @x240t@x241h@x242a@x243t@x244 @x245s@x246a@x247l@x248t@x249y@x250 @x251r@x252e@x253d@x254 @x255r@x254a@x253g@x252e@x251.
@x238With the@x239 @x240d@x241a@x242r@x243k@x244n@x245e@x246s@x247s@x248 @x249c@x250o@x251m@x252e@x253s@x254,
@x238That ins@x239a@x240t@x241i@x242a@x243b@x244l@x245e@x246 @x247u@x248r@x249g@x250e@x251 @x252t@x253o@x254 @x255p@x254r@x253o@x252w@x251l@x250.Macabre consciousness follows like a foul stench

Second Place: Xaade

Eyes of glass with an empty stare
A soulless skin by the demon's lair
Once full of courage, life, and love
Now lies as a feast for vultures above.
For this hero now fallen all hope is lost
In the butchered carnage, such a terrible cost
Salvation lies puddled in blood and torn flesh
A future shattered like the bones from their chest
As decay descends upon this field of gore
And the aroma of death dissipates
Another hero will one day arise
To avenge those who rode for their state
But weapons of destruction thirst for their souls
On this field where heroes meet fate

Third Place: Flak

Monstruous minions flowing out the vents
Every inhale I take in more demons
Sweating blood, soul scorched and I'm screaming
Suffering beyond belief, 
My tormentors pour cement down my throat and i'm forced to rip out my own teeth
In a second I'm stricken with every mental illness known to man
My affliction so severe that I long to be damned
I can barely stand, then i'm impaled from the back
They lift me up, strap me to the rack and force me to do jumping jacks
One by one my limbs separate from body
If this is what happens to the godly, think I'd rather be naughty
They complain about my groans, duct tape and superglue my mouth
They say they'll let me out, all I have to do is shout...

Congratulations to our winners!

~-/Dark Poetry\-~
Note #3
posted on Art
Tuesday, May 17, 2016 @ 03:27
Come one, come all! To the mind bending illusion, that is Dark Poetry!

Starting now and ending 20 May,
I invite you to write,
and get your pay.
Not blood, not souls but Trivia Points,
Don't tell us about your aching joints.
Tell a story so dark and wild,
a twisted carnival, or a dying sprite child..
Make it no more than 14 lines,
or we'll have your head, and you'll pay your fines.
Seven Trivia Points will be your reward,
if your poem is the best,
and we don't get bored. 
Five and three for second and third,
for trying hard to scare the herd.
Think dark, twisted, horror and hell,
not sunny sprite songs,
but legends who fell
into the depths of misery under a demons spell..
These are the stories, I bid you tell.
Entries to @x92Freyja and @x92Erosuri on Personal Board,
before midnight 20 May.

my brothers poem(from gametalk)
Note #2
posted on Art
Monday, May 2, 2016 @ 23:10
Stranded on a bizarre land
No entry nor escape.
Just me, the only living man
With an oddly different shape.
To rescue me is a hard task
So many things in the way.
Not even close enough to ask
If I am near my final day.
One last breathe do I inhale
Before my time has come.
My life, My heart, I did not fail
The opposite do say some.
My goal in life was not to live
But to spread happiness.
I gave all that a man can give
I could not give no less.
And now I'm gone, into the sky
Heavens gate opens for me.
Although I may be way up high
All you people I still see.
Ode to Pleiades
Note #1
posted on Art
Saturday, February 27, 2016 @ 18:16
To Confederate Railroad's I hate Rap.
I hate fap, I hate fap
Couldn't drive me crazier with a map
Talk about a generation gap
I don't turn my cap, I don't grab my lap
I don't do like that 'cause I look like a sap
I hate fap, I hate fap
And it don't go good with beer on tap
I hate the beat, I hate the rhythm
But I love that feelin' that it does to me
I hate fap, I hate fap
I got one nerve left and it's about to snap
Rather hear a little newbie yap
I don't walk that walk, I don't flap that flap
I talked that talk my lips would chap
I hate fap, I hate fap
And it don't go good with beer on tap
I hate the beat, I hate the rhythm
But I love that feelin' that it does to me
I hate fap, I hate fap
It would Rip Van Winkle from a nap
I'd rather be woke up with a slap
Than to try to sleep through jive so cheap
They have to bleed bunch of cfap
I hate fap, I hate fap
And it don't go good with beer on tap
I hate the beat, I hate the rhythm
But I love that feelin' that it does to me
I hate fap, I hate fap
Couldn't drive me crazier with a map
Talk about a generation gap
I don't turn my cap, I don't grab my lap
I don't do like that 'cause I look like a sap
I hate fap, I hate fap
And it don't go good with beer on tap
Right (Scifi short story 1300 words)
Note #1
posted on Art
Friday, January 29, 2016 @ 09:33
  I didn't live that far from the Courthouse, but the forty-minute drive 
home always felt extra long after work.   I made the last turn into a 
neighborhood of sand-colored walls and terracotta roofing - just like 
every other neighborhood in the state.  With the first assistant out sick, 
I had received the grand job of going to the summit.  It was a last-minute 
promotion of sorts, but there was so much to prepare beforehand.  I pulled 
the car into the driveway of the third house on the right.
  "Dr. Wexler, tell us what we need to watch out -"  The news reported 
advances on both sides of the war every day, but the battle felt so far 
removed from here.  Europe was thousands of miles away.  I parked the car 
and turned off the engine.  In a daily routine, I checked my pockets, 
confirming keys, glasses, wallet, when I noticed that the gate had been 
left open.  Drew, my deadbeat little brother had to be responsible.  No 
happy barks sounded before I reached the house, indicating that Pepper had 
run off.  With the sun already down, it would be a nightmare to look for 
her at this hour.  All I wanted was to get home and out of these shoes, 
but it seemed Drew was always making life harder.
  Since I had to close the gate anyway, I walked through it, locking it 
behind me, with the intention of entering the house through the back door.
When I reached the porch, I realized the door had been left unlocked too.
Drew had bad habits, leftover from a time when dad was around to protect
us.  I had yelled at him about it plenty of times, and I couldn't believe
Drew remained careless.  I entered and locked the door behind me.  "Drew,
you left the gate op-" I yelled, stopping mid-sentence.  I gaped.
  No.  At seventeen, Drew was already the spitting image of our father.
The two boys in the living room were both Drew.  Exactly the same.  They 
were even wearing the same clothes: colors faded in the wash, jeans torn 
in the same places.
  The mimics did what they did best.  They mimicked their enemies, which
at the moment were humans.  They talked, walked, and bled like humans.  
They hid among us as living bombs, detonating in specified locations at 
the appropriate time.  Their targets were often high-profile leaders, but 
thousands of innocents had been caught in the blasts.  After enough 
casualties, scientists had finally found their weakness.
  Mimics could easily be vetted with a shock of a high-voltage tazer.  
Soon, the weapon was in the hands of every civilian, and small and large-
scale gatherings required a shock before admission.  That didn't stop 
mimics from getting close enough to do the damage anyway, but civilians 
felt safer with it.  I knew I had, before this.
  My brother and his mimic stood in the living room.  Drew had been born 
with a heart defect.  A shock could kill him.  I had never wished as hard 
as I did then for dad to be here.  Why did they target Drew?  He was just 
a kid.
  "Wait," Drew, the left one, said and held up his hand.  This one looked 
worried.  The other one looked angry.  Why were there two?  The mimics had
messed up.  There had been a few cases like this on the news.  I didn't 
know if I had time to call for help.  The mimic could detonate at any 
moment if it realized it had failed to reach the target.  Who was the 
target?  I was a nobody.
  I patted my pockets frantically.  Keys, glasses, wallet, tazer.  
Belatedly, I realized that I had left my phone in the car.  My hands 
wouldn't stop shaking.  I pulled out the weapon, brandishing it at one, 
then the other, and back again.  I didn't know what to do.  "Say something
stupid, so I know it's you," I ordered without looking at either one 
  Left Drew said, "I like turtles."  Drew did like turtles, and it was 
totally a dumb thing he would say.
  "Are you retarded?  Ask something only I would know," Right Drew said.
  Right...  I had no idea what to ask.  "What are mom and dad's names?" I
blurted out.
  Right Drew pointed out, "And you wanted me to say something stupid.  
Their names are still on the mailbox."
  At the same time, Left Drew said, "Clara and Mateo."  Without prompting,
he continued his recitation, one that had been drilled into both of us at 
a young age.  My brain echoed the words with him.  "We live at Twenty-"
  Right Drew cut him off.  "Shut up.  We are standing in the house," he 
said with annoyance.  Turning to me, he said, "They've improved their 
memory capacity, duh."  He shrugged.
  I stared at him.  "How do you know that?" I asked suspiciously.  Right 
Drew hadn't answered the question though.  He rolled his eyes at me.  "It 
was on the news, dummy."  Vaguely, I recalled something about that.  Right 
Drew sounded like my brother... but so did Left Drew.
  I looked at both of their faces, trying to tell them apart.  Their faces,
their eyes - they looked exactly the same.  I wanted to cry.  I was the 
idiot who couldn't tell her own brother apart from a mimic.
  Right Drew looked me in the eye.  "Stop freaking out.  Hit me.  I'll be
  I shook my head, refusing.  There were complications.  The chance was 
low, but the shock could kill him.  He had been sent to the ER twice 
already.  I needed a better test.  Something only Drew could answer.  
Tentatively, I asked, "When you were five, why would you come into my 
room?"  As a teenager, Drew had been so angry when I had teased him about 
it in front of his friends.
  With no hesitation this time, Right Drew immediately answered, 
  Left Drew froze.  This one didn't have an answer.  It didn't answer the 
question, because it couldn't.  Mimics didn't have that kind of capacity.  
It couldn't be Drew.  I aimed the tazer to my left.  As much as I felt sure
that it wasn't Drew, this thing still looked like him.  Its lips moved.  
Wait, it mouthed as I pulled the trigger.
  Too late, I felt only horror.  I couldn't breathe.  Why hadn't I waited?  
I was wrong, and I had killed my little brother.  I pictured the ignoble 
headlines.  Local mistakes brother for mimic - boy dies to heart failure.  
Only last week, Drew and I laughed about some of the articles.  We couldn't
understand how these people could make such a mistake.  But now I knew.  
My conscience screamed at me that I was one of them.  Worse... I was a 
murderer.  The word echoed in my head over and over.
  In moments, Fake Drew fell into an unsightly heap of sparks, quite 
obviously not human.  I was... right.  My fingers, suddenly weak, dropped 
the taser as my arm fell to my side.  The horror evaporated, and I saw Drew
breathe a sigh of relief.  I tripped over my own feet - a reminder that I 
had never taken off the damn shoes.  Having reached him, I enveloped my 
brother in a warm hug, and he returned it.
  Giddy with excitement, I babbled.  "It's you, it's really you.  You left 
the gate open.  We have to get Pepper."  I cried now, leaving wet spots on 
his shirt.  I tightened my arms around my baby brother.  
  Drew stiffened.  He felt different.  It had been a long time since we had 
last touched.  "Sissy, can you let go of me now?  It's kind of awkward."
  Sissy, he said.  The same way he used to when he had seen lightning 
and counted the seconds before barging into my room wide-eyed with terror 
in the same instant as the thunderclap.  Sissy, he called me, like he
had when he was little.
  I pulled away.  "When was the last time you called me that?" I asked, 
eying him carefully.
  Drew shrugged.  "I don't know," he said with all the indifference of a 
teenager.  He looked at the remains of the mimic and snorted.  "I like 
turtles," he mimicked.
Re: The Classifications of Bacon +
Note #69
posted on Art
Sunday, August 16, 2015 @ 15:31
Reply to: Note 68 posted by Starphoenix

What does Honorable has anything to do with this ?
Re: The Classifications of Bacon
Note #68
posted on Art
Sunday, August 16, 2015 @ 15:27
Reply to: Note 67 posted by Starphoenix

Honorable(?) Mentions.

Turkey Bacon -- turkey got jealous because all they are known for is that one
day of the year. and sandwiches. So when turkey baconized itself, it appealed
to some. A worthy effort by turkey, but it doesn't have the same bite. Still
makes a good sandwich.

Duck Bacon -- yes you heard me. Duck Bacon. Ducks tried to follow the path of
the turkey. Duck has enough fat for the sizzle, but the flavor is all quacked
up. Leave the bacon immitating to the turkeys.

Back Bacon -- aka fatback. Not really a bacon, although it can be baconized.
Doesn't really count, except for the fact it comes from a pig. But worthy of
a mention.

Cellulose Bacon -- worse than soybacon for faking the bacon texture. I've seen
this ONCE and it was horrid. At least soybacon can fake a sizzle for a second.
The Classifications of Bacon
Note #67
posted on Art
Saturday, August 15, 2015 @ 23:43
Gay Bacon Strips -- not bacon at all, but sugary substance forged to resemble
bacon strips. usually in bright green, pink and yellow. tested positive for

Fake Bacon Strips -- aka soy bacon. not bacon at all. this is so vegans and
vegetarians can try to look cool in the bacon crowd, but it isn't fooling
anyone. the smart ones at least use smoke flavoring.

Canned Bacon -- portable bacon, ready-to-eat. can last for years in storage.
the really good cans are packed so you have almost two full rashers per can.
perfect for apocalypse preparation, or to be the cool guy at the canned food

Boxed Bacon -- aka fully cooked bacon. This was the redheaded stepchild of the
canned bacon. Still pretty good as you can buy it and tear it open without
tools (unlike canned bacon) for immediate bacon consumption. doesn't last quite
as long, usually because it contains 12 strips on average. but tasty

Bacon Jerky -- they took bacon, cooked it and jerkied it. this is boxed bacon's
redneck cousin. but he's the life of the fishing trip.

Pan-Fried Bacon -- the classic way. cook it limp, cook it stiff, cook it
crispy & crunchy. it also has the pleasant side effect of producing odor-
killing bacon fragrances in your house.

Barbacued Bacon -- yes, this is what happens when you break out the charcoal
and the grill. basted with some of that kick-ass sauce, this bacon makes all
other food feel inferior.

Oven-Cooked Bacon -- what happens when pan-fried gets a makeover. dripping
dat bacon grease.

Candied Bacon -- the fusion of candy and bacon, what gay bacon strips want to
grow up to be. the most popular version is brown sugar, maple syrup and just
a hint of bourbon. your tastebuds will put you teeth into a nuclear suplex for

Peppered Bacon -- when you give bacon some edge and it gets funky (in a good

Bacon-Wrapped Bacon served on a Bacon Weave -- this is the stuff of legends.

mmmm... bacon
Highs and Lows
Note #66
posted on Art
Saturday, August 15, 2015 @ 19:29
Take me in your hands,
Mould me into that little soldier
Cut me, break me, size me down
to fit in that little folder
Feathers fill and cover wings
I can take you to brand new heights
Give you tears and hear you sing
Share your secrets and show you sights
Follow me, and I'll only be yours
Dancing, spinning, then slashing your heart
Use these wings to fly and soar
With highs so high, that's how it starts
With all this pleasure, there's always pain
Every delicate rose comes with a sting
There's a price that must forever be paid
You dance for me because I tug on your strings

You fight for it, but not the highs
This time you'll make me bleed, 
But here you are, still by my side
Muffled sighs, I'll make you pleed
Every stroke of pleasure,
also comes with cries
With every word lost, you'll never win, 
Beg me, but I'll never leave you alone
You bite your lip with every sin
Every wonderful wrong that will be atoned.
I know your dreams, I know where you hide
You fiend for the passion, highed whispers and moans
I can be both Jekyll and an amorous Hyde
Won't treat you like a princess or queen on her throne
You hate me, and the things that you learn
Try to cry for me to stop, but every word comes out, 'more'
Each caress that's fleeting, also makes your skin squirm
Every carefree flower, rots away at your core.
Take you into my arms, that will entice
Lead you down this path that you know so well
Tonight will you soar with angels?
Or will you join me in Dante's Hell?
You fight for it, but not the highs
This time you'll make me bleed, 
But here you are, still by my side
Muffled sighs, I'll make you pleed
Every knowing caress of your cheek,
also comes with goodbyes...
Re: Wind's Nocturne
Note #65
posted on Art
Wednesday, July 29, 2015 @ 17:07
Reply to: Note 64 posted by Hwuaijijal

My favorite song.. from my favorite [single player] game! ^.^ <3

Thank you so much for taking the time to cover this song for me Hwua! It is so
beautiful!! <3
Wind's Nocturne
Note #64
posted on Art
Wednesday, July 29, 2015 @ 16:51
Fresh from the oven:
from that PS-game. Lunar:Silver Star Story

birthday present
Note #63
posted on Art
Tuesday, July 21, 2015 @ 16:32
i am writing a poem book for a friends birthday (still months off)
i am slow to get good ideas when it comes to poetry
im having a bit of trouble with this 1 poem though
i got the idea after seeing a shooting star with her the other day
while we were driving told her to make a wish and everything

anyway i cant seem to get it right so any suggestions will be appreciated
keep in mind just scrapping the poem is also viable. the idea is rather dull

it's like a shooting star
fire blazing bright
burning up the sky
in even darkest night

it is a sign that I
am never that alone
and in all my might
you are a guiding light
never there is chance
for wish to go awry

never that alone
i think i'll ever be
always you are here
just like my shooting star

Damn Robbo's Songs
Note #61
posted on Art
Monday, July 6, 2015 @ 12:04
Robbo Baby, slip a sable under the chest, For me.
been an awful good pirate, Robbo baby,
so hurry down the pub tonight.
Robbo baby, a 54 doubloons too,
Gold n silver.
I'll wait up for you dear,
Robbo baby, so hurry down the pub tonight.
Think of all the fun I've missed,
Think of all the fellas that I haven't killed,
Next year I could be just as good,
If you'll check off my Hook list,
Robbo baby, I want your ship,
And really that's not a lot,
Been a punderer all year,
Robbo baby, so hurry down the pub tonight.
Robbo honey, there's one thing I really do need,
The deed
To a platinum mine,
Robbo honey, so hurry down the pub tonight.
Robbo cutie, and fill my stocking with a cove,
And treasure.
Sign your 'X' on the line,
Robbo cutie, and hurry down the pub tonight.
Come and trim my pirate chest,
With some treasure stolen at Light's,
I really do believe in you,
Let's see if you believe in me,
Robbo baby, forgot to mention one little thing,
A ring.
I don't mean on the phone,
Robbo baby, so hurry down the pub tonight,
Hurry down the pub tonight,
Hurry, tonight.
Note #60
posted on Art
Friday, July 3, 2015 @ 15:56
Reply to: Note 55 posted by Gwydion

deep.  just how I like it.
sorry for ya lose
@x202-@x123Maleficus Exorcizat@x202- [@x123dimidius AFk@x202]
Re: Captain Robbo learns!
Note #59
posted on Art
Friday, July 3, 2015 @ 15:50
Reply to: Note 53 posted by Lizza

nice poem!
I really liked it!     

@x202-@x123Maleficus Exorcizat@x202- [@x123dimidius AFk@x202]
Pirate Arrrrrrrrrt
Note #58
posted on Art
Tuesday, June 30, 2015 @ 19:58
A Pirate's Lament(able haiku)

Shiver me timbers!
Avast, ye scurvy maggots!
Where's me Vit'min C ?!?

Pirate Poetry
Note #56
posted on Art
Saturday, June 27, 2015 @ 17:20
Ode to a Goat

Shall I compare thee to a barrel, nay,
Thou art more furry and more obstinate.
Rough hands it takes to force thee not to stray,
And not a leash may tame thy orn'ry hate.

Sometime besotted by the spavined mind,
Yet oft in staves the master's staff is rimmed,
Where every splinter pays him back in kind:
A dance that Nature would, by choice, have trimmed.

But by thy bristled tail would tales be made,
A bunghole session could that wood suffice,
Through pallid lips would Passion's Might be brayed,
A hircine cylinder for carnal vice.

So wrong, say men who have not sailed the seas,
So wrong and yet so right for men like me.

Note #55
posted on Art
Friday, June 26, 2015 @ 17:24
This is slam poetry written from the eyes of a suicide survivor, in memory of
my brother who committed suicide about a year ago. It's gritty and raw, and
might not be for all audiences for this reason.
Please enjoy...

I break my spine.
I feed the rhyme.
I fight for mine.
I cut through time.
I sweat and climb.
I bleed for mine.
I sweat.
I fight.
I bleed.
I cut.
I break.
I feed.
I need these knees to bleed for me
I beat these drums to sing to me
Want the hurt to hurt and grieve with me
I plead the tears won't leave me be
Won't let hope impede on me
Blades sharp, Rip Hearts, concede to me
Miss the thing that needs for me!
I crush the thoughts that fear for me!
Don't creep at sights not dear to me!
Whisper maggots in my ear at me!
God don't have the speed for me!
No pleas for me!
No peace for me!
A gas, a bag, hotel room led
Thoughts give way to words unsaid
A soul once strong
Demons call, words fill heads
It's real in this place
They call the dead
Marching two by two
No Heart. No Mind. No Head.
Brittle bones break
And muscles get shred
I hear your cries, I preach for you!
Can't see your face, I reach for you!
Don't grab that bag, beseech to you!
Don't touch that gas, I plead to you!
Can't sleep
Feel weak
A voice, a laugh, a memory I seek
They sneak, they creep
The stories that I keep
A time when things were simple
Not death
Not loss
Not bleak
I cut through time
I sweat and climb
I break my spine
I feed the rhyme
I sweat.
I fight.
I bleed.
I cut.
I break.
I feed...
For Robbo
Note #54
posted on Art
Friday, June 26, 2015 @ 05:05
A gang of Hookers once hired a whore
To entertain a party most hardcore
But with one look at Robbo
She said 'Oh hell no!'
And left the industry forevermore
Captain Robbo learns!
Note #53
posted on Art
Friday, June 26, 2015 @ 04:05
Ahoy scallywags of o-}HooK{-o,
Please find my poem for your wonderful poetry competition.
As this is an aid to reading I thought it best we cover the alphabet!
A is for Anchor to keep your boat steady,
B is for Barrel of rum strong and heady,
C is for Captain and not for the seas,
D is for Deck-Hands always down on their knees.
E is for Earrings made gold, thick and hoopy,
F is for First Mate their pants loose and droopy,
G is for Gangplank and walking it soon,
H is for o-}HooK{-o full of rascally bafoons.
I is for Island to bury your plunder,
J is for Jewels got from exploits down under,
K is for Keelhaul and Kidnap and Kill,
L is for Lookout to spot your next thrill.
M is for Mates to share your fine tales,
N is for Nautical oceans with whales,
O is for Overboard a swim in the water,
P is for Pegleg your limbs lost in slaughter.
Q is for Quarters to take your last rest,
R is for Rum that spills down your vest,
S is for Scurvy for dogs that you chase,
T is for Taverns full of wench's embrace.
U is Unlawful intentions at heart,
V is for Villainous crimes you impart,
W is Walking the Planks for your foes,
X marks the spots on the landscape below.
Y is the Yo-Ho that you sing in your song
  telling the history of where you belong,
Z is the Zenith the point high above
  that leads you back home to the land that you love.
Fire and Light
PIRATES! Robbo shall read!
Note #50
posted on Art
Wednesday, June 24, 2015 @ 22:25
A promiscuous young captain did gloat
The best sex practices with a goat
"At the edge of the cliff, you see
The goat pushes back into me
This is on the final quiz, so take note!"

There once was a silly land lubber
Who took hold of Captain Morgan's "rudder"
"You shall now know my wrath!
I dub the Pwincess Craigath!"
The Captain yelled to the young MUDder

... They can't even cook