Mission: Zodiac

bluegodjanus @ 2009-11-10T10:43:00

2009-11-10T18:44:14Z

I don't want to be a hero. I want to be a superhero. I'm not saving the world unless I get cool powers out of the deal.

brigits_flame nov.1

2009-11-07T07:05:46Z

New month, and that means a new contest from brigits_flame. This week the prompt was China. I decided to continue where my October mini-contest left off and deliver some more adventures of the archaeologist Persimmon. While it happens after Persimmon and the Jinn, I hopefully wrote it such that knowledge of the previous story isn't necessary to understand this one. It's mostly backstory anyway, so there shouldn't be too much trouble if you're new to my work. Without much need for further information, I present:

“Sheik?” Persimmon asked, echoing the word her one-time partner Dabir had just said. “You're the leader of a garden inhabited entirely by jinn?”

Persimmon and Dabir sat in a perfumed bath. Nearby, arms crossed over her chest, stood the jinna Mardazma. Persimmon's current partner, Edward, was nowhere to be seen. Persimmon hoped he was all right, but Dabir's situation was paramount in her mind. She'd known he wasn't dead.

“You remember a few years ago when we found Xian's Dart?” Dabir said by way of reply. “That, I am sure, is how I first ended up on this path.”

The skycab deposited Persimmon and Dabir in the midst of what was once a verdant woodland. Tree trunks, a rare sight on Old Earth, lay flat in a wide circumference around the site they were after, a site strangely unaffected by whatever mishap took place here, the slowly decaying Shaolin Monastery of Henan.

“It looks a lot like Tunguska, doesn't it?” Persimmon asked in reference to the trees.

Dabir nodded. “Tunguska was natural, though. This happened in the last war.”

“Tunguska wasn't natural. Something strange happened there.” Persimmon shook her head, still unaccustomed to how light it felt without a long braid.

Their conversation trailed away as they approached the stairs up to their destination. It was a bit daunting. “Monks did this every day, right?” Persimmon said.

“I'm surprised it took us so long to visit a Chinese site, given how much time you spend in New Jilin Sector while we're orbital,” Dabir said.

At the top of the stairs, they paused both to catch their breath and survey the area. “It's remarkably well-preserved for seven hundred years of decay,” Dabir said. “Cities that were occupied right up until the Sky Exodus look worse for wear.”

“It must be some kind of aftereffect of Jin Fei's Last Stand. Like the trees.”

The temple was, as they expected, deserted. All the monks had been killed during the war, and in the few hundred years between then and the Sky Exodus stories of ghosts, strange radiation, and deadly curses kept people away from the area.

In one room that looked like a living chamber, Dabir muttered a prayer in Arabic. It was too quiet for Persimmon to make out what he was saying. She knew better than to ask him – he always told her that it was not his place to spread Allah's word. Some of his quirks did inspire her to study Islam a bit more than she would have otherwise, but it didn't always give her an answer.

It wasn't until they went into basement chambers, hollowed out of the mountainside, that Persimmon found the temple to be of particular interest.

“What do you think is causing that glow?” she asked as they came to a corner.

“Some kind of power source that could last unmaintained for a few hundred years? Maybe it's the origin of those radiation rumours.” Dabir lowered a tinted visor over his eyes, just to be safe.

Persimmon turned off her torch, allowing the strange bluish luminescence to light their way. They found that the glow came from a shallow pool, although Persimmon couldn't be sure that the substance was water. Set casually, as though its owner would come back for it in just a moment, on a stone pedestal was a coil of cord with a sharp dart on one end. Barely readable from the entrance to the chamber were a few Mandarin characters.

“I need a better look at that,” Persimmon said, wading out to the pedestal before Dabir could respond. He wouldn't have, anyway. He knew her too well. “It's a name, no explanation. Just says 'Brother Xian'.”

The liquid behind the pedestal bubbled, heralding the appearance of a long, serpentine dragon. “Brother Xian did not participate in Jin Fei's Last Stand, as you call it,” the creature said, its voice low and rumbling. “He was delivering a letter for the abbot and never came home. He left this rope dart here, for me to guard, because it was his favourite weapon. Local legend says that Xian's considerable skill came from training with such a finely crafted tool. You two are the first to come down here since Xian left. He survived, though. Not until this day, obviously, but your transmissions have informed me, obliquely, of his legacy. While you're here, however, perhaps I can be of service to two more humans before I leave this place.” The dragon rose up, ignoring Persimmon, to address Dabir. “You are destined for greatness. When you come to a place lacking in spirit, you must stay and guide its inhabitants. You, youngling, are different.” Persimmon furrowed her brows at this comment – she was a full four months older than Dabir. “You are destined for sorrow if you cannot figure out what it is you truly seek. You are both here for a reason. Look for Xian's legacy and it may provide some guidance in your lives. Take his dart. May it remind you of your path.”

“You're here because a long told you to go on a spirit quest?” Persimmon said. “Think about all you've missed out on.”

“Are you happy yet?” Dabir countered. “Have you found what you're looking for? Our work was exciting, yes, but it isn't satisfying. I'm happy here. Most of the jinn have been around since long before the war. They're a constant source of fascinating information, quite enough to keep my curiosity sated. Furthermore, my position here has meaning. The jinn are lost without mankind.” Mardazma scowled and turned away. “Since we abandoned Earth they've lost their moral centre. They're more distant from Allah. I am happy and complete here. All your time in New Jilin and you haven't found Xian's legacy yet? I don't think you've been looking.”

“I still have the dart,” Persimmon protested weakly. Dabir's admonitions hit home.

Dabir turned, collected a small datasheet from behind him, held it out to her. It read “Centre for Shaolin Arts” in large script across the top. A man stood in a pose reminiscent of a lion waiting to pounce. Barely discernible on his sleeve were Mandarin characters Persimmon was quite familiar with: “Brother Xian”. “Go home,” Dabir said. “Find meaning for your life. And take Mardazma.”

“What?” Persimmon said, shocked as the jinna to hear this pronouncement.

“She's young – crossed over after the Exodus. She doesn't know humanity like many of the other jinn do. She'll benefit from being with our kind for a while.”

“One condition,” Persimmon said, and turned to face Mardazma. “My name is Persimmon.”

Writer's Block: Last supper

2009-11-04T00:04:39Z

If you had one night left to live, what would you do? Would you prefer to spend your final night with a loved one or alone? What would you choose for your last meal?

View 1114 Answers

I think if I had one night left to live and I said, "I'll spend it alone!" chickybluesky87 would make me have less than one night left to live.

brigits_flame: oct.mini

2009-10-31T05:52:41Z

So brigits_flame is having a mini-contest for October. I sort of forgot to actually post that introductory section of Finding a Thousand Suns to the community, so I missed out on successfully completing the main contest for the month. Fortunately this mini-contest came along to occupy my time instead. This time I got three prompts: persimmon, Taj Mahal, and cliffhanger. As such, I present to you:

“Tell me, Simon. What brings us down to Old Earth?”
“Due to your insistence on calling me 'Simon', I've lured you here so I have a place to hide the body.”
Persimmon and Edward held tight to the handrails as the skycab landed. The door slid open to reveal a dusty plain, brown and featureless to the horizon.
“I get it,” Edward said. “You don't like me as much as your last partner.”
“I don't like being called Simon. My name is Persimmon.” She stepped out into the glaring day, harsh sunlight washing out her features. Shading her eyes, she looked around.
Edward followed. “I'm just concerned. You were a legend. You've pulled relics of human history from long-forsaken sites, relics people thought wouldn't be seen again. Some of them nobody remembered existed. Word is that you're losing it. The last job went wrong, Dabir died. I get it. He was a good man.”
“He's not dead. We went somewhere we shouldn't. I've never had too much a problem with it before. This time I lost Dabir, but he's not dead. I don't believe he's dead. I came back to get him.”
“Where are we, Simon? There's nothing here.”
Persimmon pointed. Just as the skycab was taking off, she pointed beyond it. Amidst the dusty wasteland of Old Earth, a green paradise flourished. “It was called the Taj Mahal. We noticed it a few years ago on flyby to Mecca. I had to know how it stayed verdant amidst the desolation of this continent.” They walked towards it as she talked. “About a thousand years ago an Indian sultan built this place as a tomb for his dead wife. He seems to have had profound religious powers: an inscription near the edge of the grounds reads,
'Should guilty seek asylum here,
Like one pardoned, he becomes free from sin.
Should a sinner make his way to this mansion,
All his past sins are to be washed away.
The sight of this mansion creates sorrowing sighs;
And the sun and the moon shed tears from their eyes.
In this world this edifice has been made;
To display thereby the creator's glory.'”
They walked in silence a few minutes more before reaching the edge of the site. Abruptly the dusty soil became lush grass, bushes and trees growing in small copses a few feet in. A small stone stela with a barely-readable inscription stood at the beginning of a path through the garden.
“It's Arabic,” Persimmon said as they passed it. “Surprising, since the primary language was Hindi for most of the country's history. I'd guess it was modified in recent years.”
“Modified by who?” Edward asked. “Earth hasn't been inhabited in five hundred years.”
Persimmon spread her arms, as though to indicate all around them. “Obviously someone's been maintaining the place. The point is to...” She trailed off. Edwards footsteps had stopped.
A hot wind accompanied the voice which spoke from behind her. “I would think you learned, burtuqali, after last time.”
Persimmon turned, slowly, to see a woman – a human woman! - of about her size holding a scimitar to Edward's neck. “The name's Persimmon, actually. Why can't anyone get that right?”
“Perhaps if I kill this one in front of you it'll stick in your orange head. Man is not welcome in this Taj.”
“Is this about my hair colour? Look, just because I don't have Allah-granted black hair doesn't mean...”
“You know, Simon, it'd be great if we could just get out of here,” Edward interjected. “Obviously this madwoman murdered Dabir when you weren't looking. Mystery solved.”
The dusky-skinned woman shook Edward by the arm. “Mind your tongue, sa'ikh. This is women's business.”
“Who are you?” Persimmon asked. “That's what I want more than knowing about Dabir. How is this place maintained?”
The woman frowned. “Man abandoned this world long ago, for the betterment of the Earth. You wouldn't understand.”
“I've spent more time down here than anyone else in five hundred years. I know Old Earth pretty well. Try me.” Persimmon put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to one side. It was the look she used against impertinent archaeology students at the Outer Belt Academy. It meant, “I've been around, youngling. I know what I'm talking about. And apologise, dammit.”
“When the desert wind blows, it speaks our name. The fish in the sea swim free at our sufferance. The rumbles of the earth go at our displeasure. In the fires of the sun, radiant, burning, smokeless flame, were we born. First among Earth-dwellers. We are older than man, older than the angels. When the Lightbringer was cast out, we were already old. We are the firstborn, best-loved of the Almighty, and subservient to not even He. We are jinn.” The woman managed a slight bow without lowering her blade.
“You didn't kill Dabir,” Persimmon said. “I know me and Edward are heathens, but Dabir was Muslim. You wouldn't kill him.”
“Man is not welcome here, burtuqali. Like the archangels at Eden, I am set to keep you from this place.”
“Enough, Mardazma.” This was a loud, commanding voice that seemed to come from the air all around. “Dabir is a good man. Let the men see him.”
The jinni woman, Mardazma, looked upset at this pronouncement. Even though, she pushed Edward toward Persimmon. “Follow the path to the Taj. Your aswadi is within. Stray not from the path, though, for I and my sisters watch. We will slay you if you leave it.” Upon that statement she was gone.
“We're going into this place, aren't we?” Edward asked.
“Didn't you call me a legend earlier? You should have known the trouble I get into.”
The path took them through beautiful, well-tended gardens. They frequently had glimpses of tall, shadowy forms nearby, though they seemed to pay the pair no mind. They would be sitting near a pool, or standing below a tree, or walking along another stone path. If Mardazma and her sisters were nearby, they did not reveal themselves.
Eventually the path ended at golden gates, twice the height of a man, in a shining white wall. Thin, almost ethereal, spires wound into the sky, framing a central onion-shaped dome. At their approach the gates opened. Inside the halls were spacious, frequently opening into lavishly decorated rooms. Barely-clad harem women stood near most of the doorways, innocuous-looking but exuding just enough of a sense of menace to keep Persimmon and Edward on the right path. The trail ended at a room divided by a translucent veil. Steam and the scent of perfume wafted over from the other side. Mardazma waited here for them.
“Burtuqali goes in,” she said. “I take her. You, sa'ikh, wait here. Rayhana will tend to you.”
“Would it be too much trouble to call me Persimmon?” she said as the jinna led her to a side chamber. “The Arabic nickname is cute, but I'm fond of my own name.”
“Undress,” Mardazma said as she did the same. When they had both done so, they emerged into the bath chamber. Edward was nowhere to be seen, but a tall black man sat in the far side of the bath.
“Dabir,” Persimmon said as she slid into the bath and waded towards him. “I knew you were alive.”
Dabir nodded. “I'm glad to see you again, Persimmon. But it's dangerous for you to be here.” He indicated Mardazma, who hovered a few feet away. “She doesn't like humans.”
“You don't have to be a prisoner here any longer, Dabir. I came back for you. I miss my partner. Come home with me.”
“I cannot,” Dabir said sadly. “I am not a prisoner. I am the sheik of this place.”

Writer's Block: Seeing stars

2009-10-27T17:33:02Z

Which character from any film, television show, or book would you most like to take on a date and why?

Submitted By blue_mariposa88

View 2252 Answers

River Tam. Our "date" would be us wandering around the city beating people up.

Writer's Block: Come here often?

2009-10-17T21:38:36Z

What's the best pick-up line you ever heard (or tried)? What's the worst? If you're instantly attracted to someone, will a stupid pick-up line dampen your interest?

Submitted By downfall35

View 725 Answers

I've always been a fan of "Does this rag smell like chloroform to you?"

brigits_flame oct.2

2009-10-16T20:01:40Z

So I made it into the second week. This time our prompt was "navel". That gave me a great idea that I'm still working on. So I've got plans for more of a story that follows this introductory exposition.

The Webway was growing again. It does that, at times, completely of its own volition. Outsiders think we made it, and that we periodically choose to extend its reach. In actuality, we just found it. We don't know who created it or how to add new strands. We have, by necessity, figured out how to construct new phase rings. That's where we're going.

The physics behind the Webway is particularly complex, but in essence it is a series of tendrils reaching through empty space. At each end of a strand, a phase ring converts our ships between normal matter and a form of exotic matter that is capable of travelling abnormally fast through the universe. The Webway strands protect the exotic matter from destruction by interaction with normal pieces of matter.

We've never gotten along well with the Aldrinar. There hasn't been open warfare in nearly a thousand years, but you'll rarely see us cohabiting peacefully. I mention this conflict because of how exciting the new strand is. The new strand reached deep into the galactic core – much further in than the Aldrinar gates can penetrate. They've been trying to breach the navel, as they call it, ever since the fiend wars – we were allies, then, fighting against a rapidly expanding demonic tide. They were working on a way to seal the borders of our universe against incursion from theirs. Black holes were the most popular avenue of research, and they still have an outpost orbiting Ellith. We didn't have time for that.

The demons had been piggybacking Aldrinar gates to pour through into our universe. The largest one came from what the Aldrinar called the Long Road – a pair of gates leading to a nearby galaxy. We shut it down. We've discovered a way to reprogram the gates for catastrophic failure. It ended the fiend wars, as well as our friendship with Aldrin. Demons still get through – mostly via the Aldrinar gate system, we're sure – but it's slower now. Since that time, the Aldrinar have sought to reach the galactic navel – site of the largest black hole anyone can find. They're sure they can seal the borders completely using its power. Now we have a way in.

They don't know yet. Most of our own people don't know yet. We have to get the phase ring in place first. The trick is that we have to make it across the strand, emerge from the Webway, and convert back to normal matter before we can build the ring. After much trial and (quite costly) error, we've found that there's a way to renormalize without a phase ring. It just takes a tremendous amount of material. Fortunately the Webway doesn't expand too often or too quickly.

We're on our way now. We don't know just how deep the strand penetrates into the core, but our ship's sensors will relay that information with enough time to prepare the shift engine. Most people choose invoked rest while flying the 'way. I find the phase shifts to be exceedingly stressful, so I rest through them, but the actual journey I love. I'm told the experience of being exotic matter makes others feel like madness encroaches upon them. I feel like it's an opportunity to explore the outer reaches of my psyche. Things appear on the ship – not just people but places, objects. It's like re-enacting one of the ancient heroic journeys, but it's all drawn from inside me. I'm not fighting dragons or sorcerers, but the dark and quiet pieces of my own mind. It's both exciting and comforting – I'm always tired but happy at the end of a journey.

We've arrived. I set the ship to force itself back to normal matter, and then awaken the rest of the crew. We're not here to explore the core, unfortunately. We're here to make a new phase ring. In a month more ships will come. They'll explore. With luck, I can be on board one of them. Being the first to lay eyes on this, though. That's a privilege of its own. I think I'll call this region the Thousand Suns. And to think that it only gets denser from here. We might need some new kind of ships to get much further.

Writer's Block: My Favorite Neighborhood Business

2009-10-12T16:22:42Z

What is it about your favorite local small business that keeps you coming back again and again?

Sponsored by American Express in association with NBC Universal for Shine A Light .

View 290 Answers

I work here.

brigits_flame contest - oct.1

2009-10-09T20:30:10Z

So around the middle of last month I joined a writing community - brigits_flame. The basic idea is there's a big contest every month, comprised of four lesser contests each week. Each week, we're given a topic on which we have to write a story. Contest 1 for October is "instep". So with that in mind, here's a story about that.

I'm not from down here. I grew up in the sky. I know it's not fair for any of you, those who were born down here and never got the chance to fly. I did, and through some accident of my birth I messed it up. Now, I've heard the stories about the hermetics. Most of them aren't anything like the truth. Let me explain.

I was born in the sky on Deiros Island, named after my family. No, I can't tell from down here which one it is. They all look the same now. I see I confused some of you with the skyfolk's proper name: hermetics. The thing is, those islands are temporary layovers. Just places people stop when they're done flying - usually just to sleep. There are no skyships to traverse the islands. Only a madman (we don't have any up there, by the way) would think that the islands can get close enough for someone to step between them. It's all flight up there. The way people fly is with special grafted wings on their ankles. I don't really know how it works - I was banished when I was a kid. But thinking back, it seems a lot like those little wings couldn't lift a whole person. There was a story about our origins - sorry, their origins - that spoke of a man who gave us the wing grafts. The skyfolk - hermetics - are supposed to be named after him.

I didn't know anything was wrong for years. Young children don't get the grafts. We just play on the islands and have adults ferry us when we need to cross. I'm sure they all knew. They said I was born like this, so they had to know the whole time. But they never said anything. Never treated me different. On my tenth birthday I was supposed to get my wings. It's a day all children look forward to - it means freedom. Instead, I was taken into a dark room deep inside one of the islands. It was explained to me that because of my feet I couldn't be grafted. I have no arches, see, so I don't have the muscular structure to make them work right. A sombre-looking man I had never met before carried me down here, and I've never seen a hermetic up close again.

Writer's Block: Sick day

2009-10-05T17:56:06Z

When you get sick, do you prefer to go it alone or be doted upon by a friend, partner, or parent? Do you usually go to work or school or stay home?

View 1259 Answers

Who gets sick?

Ariel found this picture for me

2009-09-28T04:19:01Z

My triumphant return, pt. 2

2009-09-25T21:58:30Z

I have finally achieved internet at my house. As such, I can once again be found at the usual suspects.

Oh yeah!

2009-09-22T16:56:38Z

Summer is over. Fuck you, the sun!

Another victim

2009-09-21T19:08:44Z

So I've talked Ariel into getting a livejournal. She can be found over at chickybluesky87.

Writer's Block: What if calories didn't count?

2009-09-19T06:05:28Z

If a magic genie told you your calories wouldn't count for 24 hours, would it change what and how much you ate that day?

View 1264 Answers

No. And I would also wonder why he couldn't give me something useful, like telekinesis. Or a can of Brawndo.

bluegodjanus @ 2009-09-15T10:56:00

2009-09-15T17:57:21Z

I sometimes feel like my life should be more like this. Or I should at least have a picture of a guy with a big knife.

Writer's Block: Scorching day

2009-09-08T17:48:05Z

On a scorching day, do you prefer the beach or an air-conditioned movie theater?

View 1244 Answers

Actually, when the weather gets really unpleasant I go beat up the sun and make it go home.

Further musings on superluminality

2009-08-18T17:59:36Z

In my previous post on the matter, I mentioned my faith in the validity of Einstein and the universal speed limit. I've had thoughts to the contrary in the meantime.

My new method to toss on the FTL tech pile is called the webway, and it's based on some highly spurious interpretations of physics. According to the Lorentz transformations of general relativity, funny things happen to local timeflow at superluminal speeds. In essence, the time factor becomes negative - local time flows backwards. While this seems at first like a nonsensical result, one of Richard Feynman's theories allows it to gain some better meaning. According to Feynman, antimatter moving forwards in time is mathematically identical to matter moving backwards in time. If we merge these two ideas like Voltron, we can see that antimatter is clearly allowed to move at FTL speeds. So all we need is a big machine to convert a ship and its crew to antimatter, jet them across the universe, and change them back.

This is obviously a terrible plan.

With all the thin plasma and interstellar dust and the like out in space, such a ship would quickly be destroyed. This is where the webway comes into play. The webway is a great network of magnetic fields stretched through the universe, allowing antimatter ships a safe "tunnel" network to fly through. Each entry/exit to the webway has a big space station-style ring to perform the conversion process.

Science!

2009-08-15T05:38:46Z

I think me and Agatha Heterodyne need this shirt.

On issues superluminal

2009-08-03T18:42:24Z

It's clear to me that sublight interstellar travel is ridiculously ineffective, to the point that no sensible society would do it. And yet still I occasionally see science articles about proposed new rocket technology (to include such neat-sounding ideas as plasma ion engines) that would bring the nearest star or two within "feasible" reach. ("Only six years Earth time to Proxima Centauri!" Yes. Wonderful.)

However, I'm also a firm believer in the validity of relativity, making literally superluminal craft an impossibility. This leaves us with two choices - accept that we'll never really reach the stars, or figure out how to bend the rules. So far, I've figured out three basic ideas to make the universe work for us.

The first, and the one I'm personally most comfortable with, uses gates through some manner of hyperdimensional space. A few things about this seem likely to me. The first is that the number of relatively safe paths through such a space is probably less than the total number of paths through said space. As such, it may not be possible to get everywhere from anywhere. The second is that, depending on the specifics of the technology, it may be difficult to establish new routes. If, for example, it's set up Stargate-style, where we have ground-based portals that people walk through, that suggests a need for portals on the other side if the trip is expected to be two-way. The main difficulty, however, would be in figuring out how to send people or starships "outside" the universe into this extra space.

The second method utilises a quirk of quantum mechanics and rather impressive probability manipulation. Heisenburg's uncertainty principle indicates that particles can't really be considered to have a particularly specific position in space. Instead there's a probability wave describing where in space you're most likely to find said particle. Oddly enough, there's an infinitesimally small (but nonzero) probability that said particle could be nearly anywhere in the universe. As macroscopic objects (such as a person or starship) are aggregates of billions of particles, quantum effects tend to average out into the much less interesting world we see around us. However, given a potent enough ability to alter probability, one could theoretically change an object's location in space through a form of unlikely quantum nonmovement.

The third, and probably most dangerous, method is warping space. Again from Einstein we know that mass warps the space around it. In our daily lives this effect is largely unnoticed beyond the gravitic effects of our planet. But a large enough mass (such as, for example, a black hole) warps space in a rather extreme fashion, potentially creating enough of a spacial distortion to somehow allow rapid travel through space. The main trouble with a black hole is that you can't simply turn its mass on and off to facilitate travel. However, another consequence of relativity is that mass and energy are equivalent. A large enough source of energy (such as, for a random example, two superpowerful lasers focused on a point) should also warp space sufficiently. My main problem with this method is that warping space is a rather hazardous proposition. Too much energy and one is likely to punch a hole in the universe and fall out (which may be a way to facilitate method 1: gates. It may also lead to something like the movie Event Horizon. Hard to say).

Why didn't I post about this sooner?

2009-07-10T22:14:32Z

So I conjured forth a son from the illimitable deeps.
Salient details:
name: Liam
when: 3.07 Monday, 6 July 2009
big: 9 lbs. 10 oz.

It's really hard at the beginning. I'm hoping things get better eventually.

Writer's Block: A Few of the Challenges I Face

2009-07-10T22:07:03Z

What challenges stand in the way of your ideal lifestyle? How are you working to overcome them?

Presented by Intel, Sponsors of Tomorrow.

View 394 Answers

I'm mostly troubled by a lack of telekinesis. I haven't really figured out how to fix this genetic anomaly yet.

Writer's Block: Comic Instinct

2009-07-01T06:17:32Z

Do you think animals have a sense of humor?

Submitted By li_bean

View 500 Answers

I have a sense of humour.

Nonaccredited memery. Ha.

2009-06-13T04:58:53Z

1. You can ONLY answer Yes or No.

2. You are NOT ALLOWED to explain ANYTHING unless someone messages or comments you and asks. -- and believe me, the temptation to explain some of these will be overwhelming nothing is exactly as it seems.

Kissed any one of your LiveJournal friends? --- Yes

Been arrested? --- No

Kissed someone you didn't like? --- No

Slept in until 5 PM? --- Yes

Fallen asleep at work/school? --- Yes

Held a snake? --- Yes

Ran a red light? --- Yes

Been suspended from school? --- No

Experienced love at first sight? --- No

Totaled your car in an accident? --- No

Been fired from a job --- No

Fired somebody? --- No

Sang karaoke? --- Yes

Pointed a gun at someone? --- Yes

Done something you told yourself you wouldn't? --- Yes

Laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose? --- No

Caught a snowflake on your tongue? --- Yes

Kissed in the rain? --- Yes

Had a close brush with death (your own)? --- No

Seen someone die? --- No

Played spin-the-bottle? --- No

Sang in the shower? --- Yes

Smoked a cigar? --- No

Sat on a rooftop? --- Yes

Taken pictures of yourself in the nude? --- No

Smuggled something into another country? --- No

Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes? --- No

Broken a bone? --- Yes

Skipped school? --- Yes

Eaten a bug? --- No

Sleepwalked? --- No

Walked a moonlit beach? --- Yes

Rode a motorcycle? --- No

Dumped someone? --- No

Forgotten your anniversary? --- No

Lied to avoid a ticket? --- No

Ridden in a helicopter? --- No

Shaved your head? --- No

Blacked out from drinking? --- No

Played a prank on someone? --- Yes

Hit a home run? -- No

Felt like killing someone? --- Yes

Cross-dressed? --- Yes

Been falling-down drunk? --- No

Made your girlfriend/boyfriend cry? --- Yes

Eaten snake? --- No

Marched/Protested? --- Yes

Had Mexican jumping beans for pets? --- No

Used sex/romance just to get something? --- No

Puked on an amusement ride? --- No

Seriously & intentionally boycotted something? --- Yes

Been in a band? --- Yes

Knitted? --- No

Been on TV? --- Yes

Shot a gun? --- Yes

Skinny-dipped? --- Yes

Gave someone stitches? --- No

Eaten a whole habanero pepper? --- No

Ridden a surfboard? --- No

Drank straight from a liquor bottle? --- Yes

Had surgery? --- Yes

Streaked? --- Yes

Taken by ambulance to hospital? --- No

Tripped on mushrooms? --- No

Passed out when not drinking? --- Yes

Kissed someone of the same sex on the mouth? --- Yes

Donated Blood? --- Yes

Grabbed electric fence? --- No

Eaten alligator meat? --- No

Eaten cheesecake? --- Yes

Eaten your kids' Halloween candy? --- No

Killed an animal when not hunting? --- Yes

Done anything sexual in a church, mosque, etc? --- No

Snuck into a movie without paying? --- No

Written graffiti? --- No

Thought about the future? --- Yes

Been in handcuffs? --- No

Believe in love? --- Yes

Writer's Block: Call Me

2009-06-03T05:02:10Z

Do you still use a landline at home, or do you rely completely on your cell phone?

View 502 Answers

Actually, I rely completely on my wife's cell phone. If we're not together, I'm incommunicado. In some aspects, I like that. Makes me feel elusive.