Sunday, October 29, 2006

Saturday Night in Minas Tirith

So for my first "real" entry, I'm going for the gusto and publishing someone else's copyrighted material. If anyone has something to say about it, just let me know, and I'll be glad to make all necessary changes. HA! Who am I kidding? No-one is reading this damnable thing -- yet.

At work this past Christmas, Grace gave me a page-a-day desk calendar featuring photos from Peter Jackson's LOTR trilogy. I've made it my business to try and come up with a funny caption for each photo; sometimes it's not so easy. The other day, though, prompted by the above picture, the yucks kept coming and just wouldn't stop. Encouraged and aided by Grace Amelia, a new set of dialogue was "discovered." As you read this, you can keep Denethor's voice the same as in the movie, but Pippin should be dubbed in by every surly teen you've ever known. If you need a pop-culture touchstone, try Napoleon Dynamite on for size ...

Pippin: ...

Denethor: You going to stand there all night? Speak up, boy!

P: Uh ... can I borrow the chariot tonight?

D: What? No! Are you out of your mind? Don't you remember what happened last time?

P: I promise I won't let Frodo drive again. He's the one that wrecked it, not me.

D: The answer is still no, and that's final!

P: Aw! Well, can I go to the Green Day concert?

D: Only if you bring Faramir.

P: No way! He's a jerk, and he always starts fights. Last time, he waded into the mosh pit when it was full of dwarves, pushed one over, and they all fell down. He thought it was really funny. It looked like a wiggling bear rug covered in chain mail.

D: I don't care. Either you take him, or you don't go.

P: Awwwww! Can't we bring Boromir, instead?

D: Dammit, no! He'll just get you drunk -- again! That's probably what happened with Frodo and the chariot ...

P: I promise, he won't! Just take his horn away from him before he goes out, and he's fine.

D: No. That's final. How about Aragorn?

P: Pfft. As if. Now that he's Mister High And Mighty King, he's all, like, "I'm too good for Green Day!" He'd probably like it if we invited him to a Jewel concert ...

D: Hey! There's nothing wrong with Jewel, Mister! That does it -- you're going nowhere!

P: dick.

D: I heard that! Go to your parapet!

Thursday, October 26, 2006

Once a Week.

Is this the best I can do? I intended for this to be an outlet for my humor, for my musings and inner-space dialogue, but the best I can manage is once a week. It's a time-management thing. I've got all these snippets whirling around in my cranium, but to get them out in a readable and coherent fashion will take time, and that's something I just haven't got at the moment. Commitments. Responsibilities. All the things that make up a so-called "adult life." And the crazy thing is that it really only changed for me about three months ago. I wonder what the future holds ...

Watch this space.

Thursday, October 19, 2006

My Blogeristic Debut.

So this is the first post in my blog, and I find that I have nothing to say. This is worse than writing a letter to my mom and filling it so full of vapid inanities as to render any real reason for my writing in the first place to a null state. Well, in time, the reasons for a blog will come. Until that happens, I'll pretend to have opinions on various subjects. I'll pretend to have a connection to The World at Large, and I'll pretend to have enough spare time to fill this thing up with something worth reading.

Right now, I'm a desk jockey. When I tell that to people at parties (well, not so much "parties" as my local bar), they always think I said "disk jockey," and they're all interested in my work. I then patiently explain that, no, I don't spin platters; I bend alphanumeric strings to my iron will, trying to make sense out of the paper piles on my desk, and (hopefully) making people who I may or may not meet in my lifetime a little happier and/or more relaxed. At that point, my listeners have usually wandered off in search of someone with a slightly more colorful life, like a photographer or a policeperson. Lots of interesting questions they can get asked, like "Shot anyone famous recently?" Fact of the matter is, I work in the timeshare industry for a company that isn't very well known. When I drop this little brain-nugget into the mix, I get two responses:
a) "I almost bought a timeshare."
b) "I own a timeshare. Never use the damn thing."
Right about then, their eyes narrow. "Are you in Sales?" I hurriedly deny that charge. Sometimes I challenge them to a duel for even implying such a thing. Then I scurry off to find a photographer or cop to talk to.