L. Marcus

Well, sometimes good things result from a serious bout of insomnia:  I finished my chapter on Australian Aborigine mythology! It came in at 17,500 words, a lot longer than I expected. This is despite only having three gods who get character sheets (tied with Armenian mythology for the smallest number, so far). Mostly I think the wordage comes from some detailed cosmology stuff, a complete system for Aborigine magic, and descriptions of a bunch of weird monsters.
 
Now on to a new chapter. I suppose I should tackle one of the remaining "major" mythologies (Celtic, Chinese, and Hindu), but I'm more in the mood for Slavic/Russian, so that's what I'm gonna work on.

True, but I never return anybody's calls. Besides, she stopped calling years ago, after she got enamored of some kinky L. Marcus guy and his perverted practices with lingonberry jelly.

Perhaps the most heartwarming thing I've read all day.

Make them remember Lindisfarne!

I have no idea what they're doing upstairs, but it sounds like a raving mad bumblebee playing a steel didgeridoo. 

"Hey Dad, can you buy me a truck?"
 
"What? You mean like a real truck?"
 
"Yeah."
 
"What for?"
 
"So I can fill up the back with water and use it as a pool."
 
"I see. Well, that makes sense, but usually the water leaks out the back."
 
"Oh, okay. I'll just fill it with sand, then. Or Skittles!"

I once asked a friend what he'd bring if he found a way to Middle-earth. He said he'd probably take a machine gun. I said I'd rather introduce Broadway musicals. He told me I was evil.

http://www.giantitp.com/comics/oots0922.html
 
"OK, now I know we're doomed..."

I still make residual SAN and Beserk rolls on jobs I no longer work at.

Did some experimental photography while volunteering for Grand 2 Grand
This was a long exposure of the moon.
 

g2g_130921_16_moon_lr by lemming552, on Flickr

Funny, I was just telling my AP class about Brownian Motion and the Annus Mirabilis papers the other day. Random does indeed have its uses!

The face that says "Seriously, bro?"

For SCIENCE!!

That does sound like an enjoyable Saturday afternoon.

So you want to capture an asteroid, make it orbit the moon, use it as a base, and crash it into the moon when you're done?  
 
Read about it here!

Looks like SpaceX is really starting to push the envelope.

"Iguanodon" is not the don of the Guano organized crime syndicate.

Which brings up the visionof gluteal haberdashers.

For long-time HERO Boards members:
 
 
 

A few months ago, I watched a new opera, The Gospel of Mary Magdalene. Before heading off to the opera house, I dined at a restaurant named Absinthe. I did have a glass of that liquor with dinner.
 
Maybe it was the drink or the heat of the opera house, but I had the strangest hallucinations during the first act. Notably, my peripheral vision kept interpreting the arch at the far wall as a large shadow person standing beside me.
 
I hate to think what my hallucinations would have been if I had been watching Mephistopheles.

"What do you mean every player on my roster got suspended?"
 
NT: Subtle signs the man selling you your new taablet computer is out of his mind.

Five minutes to impact. The sirens wailed in the background, an oppressive blare that heralded the end of the world. I strode into the living room, stuffing the last of my emergency supplies into a backpack. Not that it would matter, but it gave me something to do with the last few minutes of my life. A few people wandered around outside the front window, strangely unhurried, though undoubtedly they, like me, had nowhere to go anyway.
 
Time was up. I crouched between the sofa and the heavy wooden coffee table--the best I could do in this wooden house--and waited. I held a map in my hand that plotted the impacts. There was one, far away from where I was at. A moment of hope--maybe all the warheads would miss me, somehow. Another one on the map, closer. A pause, then a low rumbling outside as the shock from that one reached us. A concerned murmur from the people outside. My whole chest pounded; full adrenaline deployment. I wanted to run, or scream, or something, but all I could do was curl here fetally by the sofa and wait. A long pause. The cat walked up to me; stupid animal, I thought, aren't you supposed to know where the good hiding places are? I grabbed her and pulled her under myself, thinking that maybe she might survive this, if no one else.
 
A bright light outside the window--white flaring into an incomprehensible intensity. I felt the heat on my neck as I curled over the cat and yelled in terror. The damn siren was suddenly, eerily silent, replaced by the faint screaming of the people outside. The heat. The heat--

I am the dorky cousin.

Check out this diorama.

"I Am In Love With You" by Imogen Heap, 'Speak For Yourself' album