Ookings of d00m

Post-Apocalyptic Strawberry Shortcake Leads 80s Toys' Rebellion

Rainbow Noir

Rainbow Noir: the Mountains and the Sky

An Unclean Legacy: the Children of Montecristien Gargamel


The first is art, the rest is text. All are awesome.

I have a peculiar fixation on Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairies.

This goes back to steampunk RPG convention game I played in, where my character, a mad inventor, had a cigarette case full of dozens of tiny clockwork killer robot fairies that played Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairies, slightly out of sync, in a sort of cheap music box sort of tone.

I would love to hear Einsturzende Neubauten doing that song with crashing and banging, old school industrial style. I don't think they will, though.

If any of you ever come across a music box that plays that song, let me know. I wants it.

Weird thing seen on the highway today; I was following a dirty truck. I noticed something had been written on the back of the truck in the dirt. Then I realised that it was written in Norse runes. I tried to take a picture with my camera phone, but the camera on it is pretty awful, so one can't even tell that the truck is dirty, let alone see well enough to make out what's written on it.

Goddamned vandalous Vikings, man.

Surreal moment this morning.

I woke up, in darkness, and looked over at my clock. The numbers were changing, couting upwards. I checked my clock to see if something was pushing down one of the buttons on top of it. Nothing was.

I eventually woke up enough to remember that there are sleep and snooze buttons on the detached speaker on the other side of my dresser, and eventually woke up enough to go over and turn the speaker over (it had gotten turned upside down some time in the evening). At that point the clock stopped counting and went back to showing that it was about 4:20am.

In other words, sleep still hates me. I am exhausted.

I have a sunburn that is mellowing into a fairly deep (for me) tan, and sun bleached blond in my hair. Who am I, and what have I done with myself? And wear did I leave those feathers I had in my ears?

Now, I am crashing like a crashy thing, and wishing I knew where a little scrap of paper was.

This ended up longer than intended.

( Internal monologue de-internalizaed )

I am such a yuppie. (And yes, night__watch, I knew this)

A Canadian Yuppie, even.

I have now had the sad experience of buying an appliance for my car, from Crappy Tire, based on the the smug, self-satisfied advice of Canadian Tire Guy. And been EXCITED about it. The elation I felt at having (and installing!) new wiper blades myself was far outweighed by the realisation of what had just occurred.

In other news, I got to make an extra trip across the city (and back again) when I found out that I had inadvertently ended up with someone else's expensive blue headlight bulbs. I'm not sure if taking them back to the store was the right thing to do - the person who bought them might now get ahold of them, and install them. And I'll be responsible.

In a more newsy side of things: Toronto Police Chief Bill Blair blames the middle class for the recent gun crime spree. The logic here is that if the middle class wasn't buying and using drugs, the criminals wouldn't be shooting each other and innocent by-standers in the streets. Read that very carefully. By that logic, would politicians be responsible for not legalizing those drugs, and therefore bringing down the entire drug trade? Or maybe we blame the social conservatives who oppose legalization? (look! I dodge blame for societal ills like a white, middle-class privileged male, too!)