...to ask me anything. ONE THING.
It can be about myself, my life, your life, life in general, tech questions, art questions, food questions, bicycling questions, bicycling tips, bicycling maintenance, and all the miscellanea in between.
However, you are allowed ONE. And I will answer it to the best of my ability.
*edit* Basically, I'm doing this to prove if I can answer a higher volume of questions in a shorter amount of time.
...but it is what I do with my spare time at work.
You get a prize if you can discover the secret message.
So once I again I found myself locked in a dragon-guarded, crocodile-filled-mote surrounded castle, with no hope of escape. As you may have guessed, this wasn't my first time in a situation of dire peril. I mean, come on. I wrestled a bear one time. Get over yourself. Now, my only weak link in this particular MacGuyver-esque escapade was that the actual MacGuyver didn't happen to be present. What I did have was what I will be referring to in this rather censored version of the tale as a "little person". I realize that the term I had been planning to use was highly offensive to people of his/her stature (I really can't tell when they get under four feet, I mean, they might as well be the same to me, but I'm not going to mention that because it's decidedly stereotypical and ignorant), and so have decided to alter my lexicon.
But, that's all beside the point. To my strengths I possessed several chairs, a set of clothing gondolas, 50 gallons of fuel, a whole cavalcade of Husqvarna power equipment, a small propane stove, a quick wit and the vocabulary of a rabid mongoose. I use the word "strengths" here, not because I am devoid of a rich vocabulary, but because I am a damn clever individual. That's right. You'd expect me to say something more rich and meaningful, maybe a word you've never heard before or something like that, but no, I'm so witty that I used a common word so I could level with you and trick you up at the same time. I'm just that good.
Bear in mind, dear readers, folks... wizards, whatever you are, that this is all a true story. Only the names have been changed- to protect the guilty. You know what? You probably are all wizards or something, really. I mean, the odds are stacked against you and you know it. But, I digress. As I like to say, here's the "L.D." (And that stands for Low Down in case you were wondering.) A ferocious, possibly misunderstood (but most likely racist) dragon stood guarding the entrance of the castle I was in, the windows were barred, and the mote surrounding the castle was filled with crocodiles. Now hold up here. How could a mote possibly provide a substantial ecosystem for crocodiles? I mean really, now. It's the cliché of clichés when it comes to fairy tales and fantasy, but they never even considered biology at all.
Fact is, it did. I'm more shocked than you, trust me. Now, my first move was to use my only expendable resources, before the reusable ones. So, upon completing a trail of oil from the dragon back to the propane stove, which was set up next to one of the barred windows (and a chair, just because I can. What, you have a problem with that? This is my story alright?), I proceeded to take the little person in hand and ask him if he belonged to any particular religion. He began to go on at length about some sort of religion in which there were two omnipresent gods who really couldn't agree on anything, but always got along in the end, so the universe sort of ended up like every episode of The Odd Couple mixed together. Is it just me or did that show have extremely homoerotic overtones? I mean, the show was about two dudes, who were not in college living together and, I suppose, disagreeing as if they were married. I'm sorry, to me that's just a little gay. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but I'm just saying, the signs were there. Take it at face value.
I lost interest half way through. Not The Odd Couple, you see, but the little man's explanation. I friggin love that show, I'd never lose interest. But at what seemed to be the end of his excruciatingly long speech, I proceeded to tell him to pray to those particular gods that he may be forgiven. Why? Not because I cared of course. But because I thought it would be totally badass if I did. I then proceeded to hurl the midg- er, little man at the dragon, who, upon being struck with a smaller-than-usual human being, was infuriated, and proceeded to breathe flames in his direction, which in turn ignited the fuel, trailing all the way back to the propane stove, which exploded upon being lit, blowing out the window and the surrounding wall (and flinging that chair across the room. See, I told you it would be cool.), making it completely and utterly possible for me to escape.
Little did I realize, the wall was actually not comprised of brick and mortar, as I had first guessed, but was actually entirely made of phonebooks from the Harlem area from 1986. This came as no shock to me. I was completely ready for it. I immediately began picking them up and hurling out the gaping hole in the wall, where the surrounding villagers began picking through them, as if they needed to have a preference. One even began musing about how the 1986 Globetrotters were the best team he'd ever seen in professional basketball. This, of course, incited a riot of other sports fans, who clearly had other ideas who the best team may have been. Just what I needed. They began to toss each other into the mote, thus distracting the crocodiles long enough for me to make my escape.
I snagged my clothing gondola, a Husqvarna chainsaw, and another chair and backed up to the very opposite of the room. Pushing forward on the gondola, I gained enough speed to fly out of the window all Dukes of Hazzard style, wielding a chainsaw in one hand and a chair in another. Looking back, I kind of wish that I had one of those sweet action backgrounds, like you see in anime sometimes, where it's just like a bunch of speeding colors and no actual scenery. I always wondered what that was supposed to be. Whatever. What I'm trying to get across is, it was totally awesome. Upon hitting the water, the shockwave from my entry was enough to throw a few crocodiles out of the water, and into the crowd of rioting sports fans. Enough for me to escape anyway.
Of course, now the odds were heavily stacked in my favor. I had a roaring chainsaw (or rather, man-saw, because of how goddamn manly it is, seriously) in one hand and a friggin chair in the other, while the crowd was already being attacked by bloodthirsty crocodiles. The scaly bastards and I now stood side by side, fighting off the rioters, they, striking tooth and nail, and I, striking chair and saw. It was a glorious day, indeed. The crowd was easily subdued, and I gave the saw to the crocodile king, as a token of my appreciation, which I later found out, was gold plated and hung on some guy's mantle. Not a crocodile, mind you, but just some dude. I think his name was like, Jeff or something.
Upon parting ways, I left a rather scathing note to whoever it was that occupied the castle before the dragon, insisting that if they weren't such a pansy, that maybe they could have actually garnered their father's appreciation, and not lost their castle. I know it's a dragon and all, but I just felt like stirring up the waters a bit. My journey continued westward, where, about six feet from the glorious battle, a young scholar asked me about my previous endeavors. I began my story saying,
"Now, this is a story all about how
My life got flipped-turned upside down
And I'd like to take a minute
Just sit right there,
I'll tell you how I became the prince of a town called Bel Air.
In west Philadelphia born and raised,
On the playground was where I spent most of my days
Chillin' out maxin' relaxin' all cool
And all shootin some b-ball outside of the school.
When a couple of guys,
Who were up to no good,
Started making trouble in my neighborhood.
I got in one little fight and my mom got scared,
She said 'You're movin' with your auntie and uncle in Bel Air'
I begged and pleaded with her day after day,
But she packed my suite case and send me on my way.
She gave me a kiss and then she gave me my ticket.
I put my walkman on and said, 'I might as well kick it'.
First class, yo this is bad.
Drinking orange juice out of a champagne glass.
Is this what the people of Bel-Air living like?
Hmmmmm this might be alright.
But wait I hear they're prissy, wine all that.
Is Bel-Air the type of place they send this cool cat?
I don't think so.
I'll see when I get there.
I hope they're prepared for the prince of Bel-Air.
Well, the plane landed and when I came out,
There was a dude who looked like a cop standing there with my name out.
I ain't trying to get arrested,
I just got here.
I sprang with the quickness like lightning, disappeared.
I whistled for a cab and when it came near,
The license plate said 'FRESH' and it had dice in the mirror.
If anything I can say this cab is rare
But I thought 'Now forget it' - 'Yo homes to Bel Air'
I pulled up to the house about 7 or 8,
And I yelled to the cabbie 'Yo homes smell ya later'.
I looked at my kingdom.
I was finally there.
To settle my throne as the Prince of Bel Air."
Posted the thread, now posting here.
Rushed, horrible... amazing?