The Landlady Cometh
The Orks had a legend of a Magic Buick-Convertible driven by a haunted Orkish poet questing for the secret of the haunting entity.
Two Humans and a Dwarf tricked the Orks into selling them the movie rights, and the location of the poet, then raced for the horizon with the Orks in hot pursuit.
Cut to the Dojo, where I was a cross between Sam Spade and Clint Eastwood, training with my partner in investigation, the ninja-hottie.
I managed to deduce that one of the humans must have been an elf in disguise (you prolly already guessed that), and I was thus well ahead of the game from the start...
It wasn't until much further into the plot that I discovered a further twist. My Ninja-partner was also an elf! The skank would probably have continued to fool me except for the fact that while elf-ninja school turns out masters of stealth and disguise, they don't teach their students to kiss properly!
Nasty Tricksy Elvses!
Then I awoke.
Now it's 9pm. I've spent the day whirling vortex-like around Auckland, and my house, throwing possessions at people, sucking in implements of home-torture, and wielding them in the garden, the proch, and the bathroom.
It's 9pm and Im mortaring bricks together, and soon I will paint.
The great bricklayers of history are turning in their graves as you read this.
This is my Saturday night.
I learned recently that in cases like this it is not permissible to blame myself, I must apportion blame elsewhere for the sake of my self-esteem...
The logical culprit therefore is **YOU**.
Yes, in some way I have yet to fully comprehend this lack of partying on a Saturday night is the responsibility of you, the reader. And I expect an explanation for your slackness!
Two Humans and a Dwarf tricked the Orks into selling them the movie rights, and the location of the poet, then raced for the horizon with the Orks in hot pursuit.
Cut to the Dojo, where I was a cross between Sam Spade and Clint Eastwood, training with my partner in investigation, the ninja-hottie.
I managed to deduce that one of the humans must have been an elf in disguise (you prolly already guessed that), and I was thus well ahead of the game from the start...
It wasn't until much further into the plot that I discovered a further twist. My Ninja-partner was also an elf! The skank would probably have continued to fool me except for the fact that while elf-ninja school turns out masters of stealth and disguise, they don't teach their students to kiss properly!
Nasty Tricksy Elvses!
Then I awoke.
Now it's 9pm. I've spent the day whirling vortex-like around Auckland, and my house, throwing possessions at people, sucking in implements of home-torture, and wielding them in the garden, the proch, and the bathroom.
It's 9pm and Im mortaring bricks together, and soon I will paint.
The great bricklayers of history are turning in their graves as you read this.
This is my Saturday night.
I learned recently that in cases like this it is not permissible to blame myself, I must apportion blame elsewhere for the sake of my self-esteem...
The logical culprit therefore is **YOU**.
Yes, in some way I have yet to fully comprehend this lack of partying on a Saturday night is the responsibility of you, the reader. And I expect an explanation for your slackness!