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http://www.kandy87.proboards82.com/

 This is a website that my friend came up with. It's incredible. It's a forum-mud kind of thing. Anybody that enjoys creative writing, magical powers, and that sort of thing would REALLY enjoy this site. Please check it out and tell me what you think.

Also, I have recently gotten into a prog-bluegrass band called "16 Horsepower". For those who don't know, prog music is really innovative and technical music. Think Floyd and Opeth and you'll get the idea. Below are two youtube videos of 16. I would encourage you all to listen to them. A little variety never hurt anybody, eh?

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HO9My5_H6dg

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PVm74OkoQmM

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=THlgU-8dMYg

The Gant is a massive repository of knowledge gained through experience. Nothing "book-learned" is allowed. The goal of this repository is to glean knowledge from all walks of life about all things. From A to Z, nothing is off limits (except for naughty links and pictures

http://rgant.proboards66.com

 It's an idea I came up with. I would appreciate if people signed up and posted.

The Eye

A Tauren approaches a well-worn and pitted table with tentative steps and sits down in a rickety chair that creaks with the strain of supporting his mass. His disheveled appearance lends itself to vagrancy but his visible features look noble, if unclean. He smells of good dirt and small grains of soil stain his leather armor and hooded cloak. Holes have been torn in the hood for his wide, low stone gray horns and the flaps of the hood obscure his eyes save for a flicker of ice on the right side. His snout is well scarred and his chin bears whiskers of about a moon in age. He carries a curved dagger at his belt that is stained with blood but looks no less sharp for the flesh it has punctured. He looks confused slightly but intelligent overall.

"I am... a nomad." He says this with a sense of finality, like a fate he no longer wishes to fight. His voice is unusually high-pitched for a Tauren yet it commands attention because of it's uniqueness. "I was not always a nomad. I had a family once. We were the Thundercloud clan. I had a mother, a father, and a brother. We lived in... peace. One day, we were attacked by Elves..." Here he pauses and a fire seems to light in his eye. He visibly shakes as he tries to control his rage. After a moment, he settles down and continues. "The Elves came to our cave and called us out for traitors to their order. Said that we were an abomination to nature and what we did to earn our keep was abhorrent. My mother was a shaman of the Earthmother and she sought a reconciliation with the Elves. None of us knew what they were talking about but my mother was a peace keeper. The Elves cursed her with a virus that ate at her skin. She died soon after... My father, seeing their preemptive strike, came at them with our touted Thundercloud rage and was struck down by sword and lightening before he could reach them. My brother and I were young bulls, our horns but stubs upon our heads. We could do nothing. They took my brother and I have yet to locate him or, indeed, find any information of him. The Elves then looked at me and pointed at my left eye. I was born with one green eye and one blue eye. At the behest of their leader, one of them pinioned my arms on the ground and the other took his delicate fingers and shoved them into my socket. The pain was like nothing I had ever experienced before!" The Tauren is visibly shaking again, this time in obvious remembrance of the excruciating pain. Again, he calms himself though with a much stronger effort then before. "Other warriors have scars to mark their battles. I have nothing. The Elf that reached in took my eye between his thumb and forefinger and crushed it. He then bent his fingers forward and severed the nerves that connected my eye to my body with his fingernails. They laughed as my blood flowed and they turned to leave. I shouted a promise to them that I would find them all and kill them. They obviously didn't understand me but one came back and grabbed me by my hair and held me up to his face so I could etch him in my mind. Feminine long white hair. Cruel golden eyes. Dark blue skin that was corded with muscle. Druid's garb. Scar leading from his left temple down across his nose to his upper lip. He kicked me in the stomach, laughed and walked away as if to say "so what?" That is my story. I care nothing for anything else other then achieving strength and hunting down that Elf that dared to challenge me! I will kill every Elf that I have to to find him and then I will show him the pain that he has caused me!"

The Tauren suddenly stands up, caught up in the frenzy of the moment. "I WILL FIND YOU, ELF! I ACCEPTED YOUR CHALLENGE AND I WILL FIND YOU IF IT TAKES THE REST OF MY LIFE!"

((I wrote this on my world of warcraft guild site. Brandylin recommended I write so I wrote. Take the last bit with a grain of salt of course but the sentiment is there.))

Hail, everyone. I have come to a great conclusion. My mother, a Tauren of some stature in the Thundercloud clan, was dying. Her horns are brittle and her strength is gone. She lied trapped within her mind and I ventured to our small cave within Thunder Bluff to say my final words to her.

She lay in her bed with potions, incense, and spells surrounding her. She reeked of death from a wound inflicted long ago that has finally eaten her alive. The spells, potions, and incense keep her alive if not coherent. She didn't know who I was but her friend from battles past, Sandfury was there.

"She asks for help and for her long-dead brother," said Sandfury. "The Shamans say she does not have long."

"Leave us. I must say my last words to her," I said grimly. Being so young a bull, I was not really ready for it but in a way, I knew what I had to do and I intended on doing it. I touched her hand with my fingers; it was cold and dry as if all the blood had left it. She looked in my direction and whispered "Help me". I was more convinced then ever of my decision.

She suddenly lifted her hand from my fingers and placed it on top of my wrist and a flood of images came to my mind. Absolute fear of death, incomprehensible pain, being lost and in the dak for eons, a small pure child writhing in the Dark.

Speaking would obviously do no good so I... thought towards her. I sent all of my thoughts towards her:

"This is Rowtag, your calf. I am here, Mother. I love you and I won't let you hurt and suffer anymore. I will find you a way out of your pain. I love you, Mother. I will make you proud."

She seemed to calm down then. She closed her eyes and drifted into sleep. I took a small blade in my tunic, sliced open one of my fingers, and drew the sign of our clan, a lightning bolt out of a cloud, onto her forehead. I walked out then and met the Shaman that was attending her. He suggested that we keep her alive with the spells but I cut him off. "She doesn't deserve to be so lost. It ends now. I give you command, disperse the spells. Give the potions to those who need it."

Less then an hour later, she died, asleep, with her clan and her glory all around her. I hold her remains in a small tattoo on my right shoulder now and I feel her watching from Beyond. She is lost no more and she is at peace. I hear her from time to time but it is naught but happiness and good advice.

The Matriarch of the Thundercloud clan is free. I have freed her. All is well in the world.


((Love you, Mom. It'll all be over soon.))

The Closed Fist is not based entirely upon doing violence, despite its name. Individuals following this path may be quicker to resort to violence than others, but a trained warrior can wound just as easily with the open hand as he can with the closed fist. The Closed Fist is a philosophy of doing whatever it takes to further one's station, regardless of the consequences this has on the world at large.

While The Closed Fist isn't necessarily evil, its followers tend to take its tenets in that direction. The Closed Fist teaches that strength is power, that power is desirable, and that all things bow to those who know what they want. The Closed Fist is not concerned with consequences or with balance

Following The Closed Fist has its rewards. The core philosophy leads many to far greater things than they would have gained by quietly observing their station, simply because people who follow this path have no problem reaching out and taking what they want. Many people in positions of power in Azeroth are there because they reached for that power and grabbed it before someone else could do the same.

 Here's a bunch of pics a took at an ex-guild meeting. I'm sorry but if you're gonna act like they did then I want nothing to do with you. Saying your character is "drunk" and then having them go ???-crazy(er then general which is another story) is NOT roleplaying. I may be an "eliteist prick" to them but, dammit, I have a sense of what good roleplaying should be in a game like this... and that was so far from the mark that I can't believe I stuck around with them for that long.

On a quick side note, I did a pain suppression regime tonight. Situps,
sumo-squats, and pressure points were all used to mass amounts of
pain... but it's a good kind of pain. Since I'm not a fat ol' bear, I
have redesignated myself as a boar. As such, I should be as tough as a
warthog. THERE IS NO
PAIN! On to business...

 

Yeah I know you saw the pic but I made a story for him. Yes I can speak this way.



Full Name: Name's Bahrm Loam (Balrim Lowman)

Nicknames:
Bahrm, Tha' sum' bitch Bahrm. (The Backwoods Cannibal Cook)

Date of Birth: Don' 'membah

Age:
Ain' no old 'un.

Race:
Dwa'f

Gender:
Man

Hair:
Pale blon' an' untouched by anythin' unnat'ul.

Skin:
Ruddy ferm bein' 'n th'forge an' th'sun.

Eyes: Brown. Lef' 'un done shot out.

Height:
Shoh't

Weight: More'n ave'ge




Place of residence:
Don' settle no place f'too long.

Place of Birth: Back'ds some're

Known Relatives: Pro'lly some 'roun'




Religion/Philosophy:
Alweys 'membuh num' one, else ye'll step in num' two.




Occupation:
Hittin' things

Group/Guild affiliation: This'n obv'usly. Also know'a coupl'a people over'n Fabled Order.

Guild Rank:
Don' cotton tah rank.

Enemies:
Any'ne dumb 'nough t'piss off muh em-plo'ers.




Likes:
Killin', cookin, sleepin' rootin' roun', makin' money, talkin', eatin, an' tha's bout it.

Favorite Foods: Whatevah I kill'n cook a'cause I's bettuh cook'n mos'
y'all. Specially you's that ovuh-spice ever'thin'. I wants tah eat
MEAT, not damned spices.

Favorite Drinks:
Blood'n mint... or cinn'mon if I kin get it, Cawfee, tea, Don' care fer alchyhol.

Favorite Colors:
Red, black, green, brown, grey, an' blue.

Weapons of Choice:
Hittin' sticks.

Dislikes:
Ex-wife... tried controllin' me... "civilizin'" me. Peaceniks. Hate the bastuhds

Hobbies: Helpin' folks out what needs it an' makin' cewlinary de-lights fer muh frien's.




Physical Features: Bald'n some which's strange considerin' how young
i's. No scers as'f yet. Muh ol' red shirt. Al'ays walkin' with a skip'n
muh step a'cause it don't do no good to be slouchin'. Gots a perm'nent
stain on muh beard from eatin' alls I has. Wears it as I badge of
honor. Muh eye pulls a few stares...




Special Abilities: I kin hear well an' I got a scent like a damn wolf. Other'n that, I's perty normal.

Positive Personality Traits:
I's helpful an' loyal to a fault to the right people.

Negative Personality Traits:
I 'magine I's perty off-puttin' tah some...

Misc. Quirks:
Heard once I gots an accent... an' I don' have scruples when't comes't a-quirin' meat... kahahaha.




Played by What Famous Person:
((Now who in hell asides me could pull that voice off?))

Theme Songs: This'n

 

Also, thank you very much to those who commented to my last blog. I appreciate the advice a lot. 

I woke up from a dream...





(8:42:11 PM) Ryan: I had a dream that Dad got me arrested because "I
shouldn't worry so much" and then I got let off by the judge who
smacked me and told me to grow up. My last image was of me doing
pushups in the rain and my note-taker came up and I said as loud as I
could "I hate him!"


(8:42:26 PM) Ryan: The judge looked like Rosie O'Donnel


(8:42:27 PM) Joe: riiight


(8:42:43 PM) Ryan: I wonder if it's a sing


(8:42:45 PM) Ryan: sign?


(8:43:03 PM) Joe: who knows?


(8:43:47 PM) Ryan: I was a blubbering mess in court and when I got out, I was all fire and rage


(8:44:16 PM) Joe: ok


(8:44:33 PM) Ryan: what a hell of a dream


(8:45:18 PM) Joe: yes indeedy


(8:45:29 PM) Ryan: Maybe I subconsciously blame dad for keeping on telling me to "forget about it and let HIM play with you"


(8:46:03 PM) Ryan: Thus giving me the go-ahead in my own head to do what I did


(8:46:11 PM) Joe: perhaps


(8:46:39 PM) Ryan: You were there, Joe. You heard him!


(8:46:55 PM) Ryan: Just forget. Let him play with you. You don't know what you're talking about


(8:46:58 PM) Ryan: /scream!


(8:47:18 PM) Ryan: RAAAAGE!


(8:47:26 PM) Joe: ok


(8:47:47 PM) Ryan: If only they'd listened to me


(8:48:00 PM) Ryan: any one of the thousands of damn times...


(8:48:14 PM) Joe: true.. remember though: your dad's an idiot

(8:48:54 PM) Ryan: I didn't want to go to school in Freemont when I
was 12. I didn't want to do Auto Shop when I was 17. HE was a damn
menace! NEVER... EVER listened to me!


(8:49:20 PM) Joe: yes


(8:49:32 PM) Ryan: I don't want to be stuck here


(8:49:49 PM) Ryan: I've got to find a way to make the best of it... I've got to find a way to drown out the idiocy


(8:50:13 PM) Joe: well, boozahol doesn't help


(8:50:30 PM) Ryan: Neither does sleep apparently


(8:50:44 PM) Joe: mm


(8:51:36 PM) Ryan: I'm going to rise above this, Joe. I'm not going down that old road again


(8:52:06 PM) Ryan: Not specifically THAT road, mind... just a bad road... like overeating


(8:52:14 PM) Ryan: you know what I mean?


(8:52:25 PM) Joe: yeah. Well, do what we recommended


(8:53:04 PM) Ryan: I realized a flaw. I'm going to do it but I've realized a flaw


(8:53:19 PM) Joe: ok


(8:53:28 PM) Ryan: "If I do it then you aren't dealing with your own problems, you're getting someone else to do it for you"


(8:53:56 PM) Ryan: Like I said, I'll try still. I'm just predicting


(8:54:06 PM) Joe: ok


(8:54:34 PM) Ryan: I'm off to drown in WoW... and water... and maybe some coffee... definitely some soup later on.


(8:54:41 PM) Joe: all righty


(8:54:48 PM) Ryan: thanks for listening


(8:54:56 PM) Joe: no probs




I have daddy issues and since he doesn't know any better (he's
mentally challenged), I can't unleash on him because he won't know why.
Anyone have any escapist ideas until 6 classes next semester does the
job for real?