February

I was initially quite skeptical about the machine. I mean, who wouldn't be? This is something that mankind has dreamed about since the beginning of time, before the dinosaurs, and even when humans called themselves Mars dwellers. It wasn't something that my feeble brain was able to accept so easily. It was all a huge, miraculous phenomenon really. How this fine piece machinery had wounded up in my hands.

It was a fine autumn morning, I was out front, sitting on a flipped army green garbage bin, minding my own business, when as if from nowhere, a very flustered looking scientist presented himself in front of me. Now this wasn't just any breed of scientist, this one was clearly a Mad Scientist. He possessed a wild, untamed white mane, and ridiculous glasses that were a size to large for his face. Stark contrast to his scientist counterpart, the Ordinary Scientist, who possessed sensible spectacles.

And that was how I got my hands on the elusive Snow Machine that makes real snow. I will test it out tomorrow morning.

You are Urahara

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Belated Rememberance

Kind of late for Rememberance day, but hey, what does the date matter when you have a perfect image?

P.S. Image credit goes to Sally.

The Gravity Gun

It arrived in the post last Tuesday. I hadn't gotten around to opening the parcel and using it because I was scared of exactly how awesome this thing was going to be. Turns out this Gravity Gun I ordered over the Internet is so awesome it'll make your socks explode.

The first thing I did with it was to pick up the postman. He didn't seem too happy about the whole thing though, so I switched the gun to "Repel" and sent him flying at a ridiculous velocity across the early morning rooftops of the sleepy suburb where I live. A few seconds later I heard a muffled crash. A car alarm went off. "The postman has landed", I thought to myself and headed back indoors.

The Gravity Gun is a marvellous thing. Invented by the creators of Half Life 2 and built in reality from a few pieces of string and some orange peel, it is capable of grasping an object firmly within its strong, directional gravitational field and then, if so desired, hurling said object many miles in a given direction.

It was almost 11am - around the time when I would head down to the local supermarket to pick up some bits and pieces for lunch. I stood up and decided that, in the pale light of my kitchen, the fridge would look better a couple of feet further left. I hoisted the Gravity Gun and gently picked up the fridge using my carefully harnessed gravitational field. Unfortunately, I had gotten confused with the shoddy labelling on the "Repel" and "Release" switches. After mistakenly pressing the "Repel" switch, I watched with a mixture of awe and disbelief as my fridge moved suddenly a few hundred feet or so east, taking with it several pieces of fridge shaped masonry from my house and the other houses in my neighbourhood which it had chosen to move through at an astounding speed.

Vaguely bewildered, I walked out of my back door towards the supermarket from which I was still determined to purchase various items, Gravity Gun still in my grasp. I noticed that someone had parked their car ever so slightly too far out in front of my drive. This would not be tolerated so, taking suggestions from my increasingly psychotic mind, I hoisted it into the air with the Gravity Gun and, unsure whether or not it was yet another genuine mistake or because I actually found it incredibly funny, pressed the "Repel" switch once again. I had been pointing the car skywards when I hit the switch so, with nary a sound, the vehicle hurtled into the atmosphere at a speed which I had now started to call "Close to a billion feet per three seconds" because, as I have already mentioned, this day was proving somewhat harmful to my mental wellbeing and I was becoming more psychotic with every passing second.

Laughing quietly to myself, I wandered into the supermarket. By this point, a couple of people had noticed my lunacy and had followed me discretely but, because I was slowly becoming a grade A mentalist, my ever-alert mind picked up on their treachery. I hurled myself around and aimed the Gravity Gun at them, picking them up with the merest of effort on my part.

"No!", they pleaded, "Leave us out of your lunacy, we have done nothing to upset you". One of them started crying but I, yes I, the King with the Big Awesome Gravity Gun heeded not their words of mercy, but hit once again the "Repel" switch that sent them spinning into what I think was the moon, but it could have been anything. I really wasn't thinking too clearly.

I turned upon my heel and announced to the supermarket that I was there to purchase some milk, some bread and some ham so I could make some sandwiches. I announced this last part about my intent to create sandwiches with a booming voice, so it would be extra clear. I decided that, since I was now an all powerful being who could perform herculean tasks with the flip of a switch, I had no need of the trivialities of daily life such as actually "walking round the supermarket". I aimed the gun at what I calculated to be the center of the store and thought about the milk, bread and ham that I wished to retrieve.

The gravitational field converged about a metre in front of the Gun and, since it was directional in nature, affected pretty much everything within twenty metres of the point where I was standing. Although this material probably contained milk, bread and ham, it also contained a lot of masonry, some shelving units, checkout staff, checkouts and a large portion of the rear wall which, I assume was a supporting structure. Experimental results, i.e. the ripping out of said wall with my Gravity Gun, proved me correct and the rear portion of the supermarket collapsed in upon itself.

I turned around to retreat from the carnage and reaslied that I still had contained within the confines of a gravitational prison, several tons of rock, metal, complaining employees and food produce. Having nothing better to do, I fired it in the direction of the sun, knowing full well that it wouldn't actually get there and instead fall upon the home of some poor ususpecting fool, and turned to face whatever challenge life would see fit to present me with next.

Killer Saught Solace Online

Pre-reading: http://forums.somethingawful.com/showthread.php?threadid=1704519&perpage=40&highlight=&pagenumber=1

"In the weeks before 19-year-old William Freund donned a cape and mask and went on a shooting rampage in his Aliso Viejo neighborhood, he reached out for help on the Internet.
He wrote more than two dozen online messages in October, asking for a "real life" friend and saying he was contemplating suicide. He also threatened to start "a Terror Campaign to hurt those that have hurt me."

The messages paint a portrait of a troubled young man struggling with Asperger's syndrome, a neurological disorder described as a variant of autism that hampers people's ability to interact socially. He revealed his anguish and frustration on a website, wrongplanet.net, used by people with Asperger's.
In a prophetic message written Oct. 16, about the "Terror Campaign," he also said, "My future ended some time ago." Other postings included "Everybody hates me" and "I feel like I need to kill myself." He also disclosed that he had bought a 12-gauge shotgun and had gone online to buy ammunition.
Members of the online community for Asperger's tried to reassure Freund and offer suggestions, and volunteer moderators tried to find his parents.

On Saturday morning, Freund put on a dark cape and paintball mask and entered a neighboring house, killing Christina Smith, 22, and her father, Vernon, 45. He then shot at a house across the street and tried to fire at a neighbor, but the shotgun jammed. Then he walked home and killed himself with the shotgun.
Orange County sheriff's spokesman Jim Amormino said investigators did not know what sparked the shooting or why Freund targeted the Smiths. "We're looking into his mental health at the time of the shooting," he said.
An autopsy completed Sunday showed that Freund died of a single gunshot to the upper torso. Toxicology tests are being conducted, but Amormino said, "We don't expect drugs and alcohol set off his bizarre behavior."
What may be the best clues to what set him off could be the messages Freund left behind in postings on wrongplanet.net. The website was created by people with Asperger's syndrome and intended as a place they could post comments, share experiences and talk to one another in online chat rooms. It also offers articles about the disease but is not intended to be a authoritative medical source.
Those with the disorder are often described as loners who have trouble communicating and may not fit in socially.
To the outside world, people with Asperger's are sometimes merely presumed to be rude, although the condition is caused by a neurobiological disorder. Depression and suicidal thoughts often afflict people with Asperger's, but violent behavior is rare.
The syndrome affects more males than females, and although the number of people with Asperger's is unknown, some experts estimate that 1 in 250 people has at least a mild case. Experts agree that it is subtler than autism but can often be emotionally crippling.
Freund tended to keep to himself, although he worked for a while repairing computers and fixing viruses, said his former employer, Forrest Fuster, 24, of Mission Viejo.
"He was incredibly smart, but he lacked social skills severely," Fuster said. "He was a very deep thinker."
In his online profile, Freund described himself as an only child of adoptive parents, a student at ITT Technical Institute in Anaheim who enjoyed "computers, role playing, fantasy, pugs, Food, guns." He graduated from Aliso Niguel High School in 2004, the same school as Christina Smith, who graduated in 2001.
His online messages were filled with spelling and grammatical errors, alternately depicting a self-aware person desperately seeking help and a frustrated, angry man who wanted to lash out at others.
On Oct. 15 he said he had tried suicide before. "Ive Tried Everythink from asphxia, To lethal gases, Inert Gases To full suspended hanging … my minds Sick With depression."
The next day, he said that if he made it to Halloween, he planned to equip himself with body armor, an airgun and a laser to "just scare any little kids that try to destroy my pumpkin … and guess what I have A real shotgun. It's gona be a fun Halloween," he wrote.
On Oct. 19, he asked for references to a mental hospital, saying that he needed counseling and social skills training. He also said he had no friends. He wrote that he wished he had some, emphasizing it with 75 exclamation points. "]

-LA news source

After-shock: http://forums.somethingawful.com/showthread.php?threadid=1711278&perpage=40&pagenumber=1

Intoxicated Meese wander into Elderly Home

Stockholm, Sweden- A place where problems involving drunks, or rowdy behavior was few are far between; but residents of a South Sweden Elderly home had to deal with both, when two rowdy -and most definitely drunk- Moose wandered onto the premises.

Un-named Moose One and Moose Two had become intoxicated when they consumed a number of fermented apples that had fallen haphazardly around the property.

The police were successful in frightening the moose away once with glow sticks and Michael Jackson costumes, but the disgruntled creatures returned shortly, seduced, and unable to resist the tantalizing fruits that drove their senses wild. A fit of drunken aggression resulted; and the police were forced to bring out the big guns: the hunter and his canine to chase away the rowdy moose.

The culprits were not pursued, but police officers made certain that all fermented fruits were collected around the premises.

10/2xx

create your own visited countries map
or vertaling Duits

A couple of decades to paint that entire map red. Wish me luck.

Chav

"Derived from Chatham in Kent, this term can be applied loosely to every culture with a nasty, thieving element. There are many variants of this creature but all are subject to the following commonalities:
Chavs are completely Amoral, having never been subjected to right and wrong by their inattentive, uncaring and often absent parents.
Chavs are part Magpie, evidentially supported by their love of all things shiny, or as vaccuous, illiterate street-slang would say 'Bling'. They can be seen twokking from the Jewelry counter in Argos/Index.
Whatever their ethnic background, Chavs have a built-in affinity to hip-hop/R&B, even if they are inherently racist (see the Scottish). They see their life as glamorous and cool.
Chavs are for the most part, extremely stupid. However, some of them render a form of low cunning, which can be misinterpreted as intelligence. However this is false. A Chav has no desire to better themself through honest means nor learn anything outside of car modification.
All chavs think that they are nails. Again, this is false. Sitting in a beaten up nova smoking lamberts does not precipitate a healthy body. The irony being that a Chav owns mainly sportswear, yet will only break a sweat if running from the police.
Chavs are incredibly fertile beasts, and are highly successful breeders. Where they come unstuck is having to look after the offspring which their 13 year old drunken fumble produces. More often that not the child will grow to be a Chav, having received no more guidance on life than the parent.
Chavs have a fond love for cars, as well as a Vin Diesel fixation. Rather than buy a nice car to start with, a chav will spend all their dole and tax-free labouring cash on upgrading a 10 year old car with 200,000 miles on the clock. The end product will invariably be a luminous monstrosity with at least one serious collision to it's name."