Moving on

I moved this blog over to wordpress.
Please, click on the link below to get there. (I used "please", so you know, this is important)

thrakbog.wordpress.com

See ya there ;-)

Humans and their weather

Yesterday the world ended.

5 things you shouldn't do when you stand eye to broad chest with an orc

She-human convinced me to produce one of these 5-things-lists. The orcish way, naturally.
Here you go:

Thrakbog, the boy band

I had a terrible nightmare. And I cannot possibly find words to express my relief that it wasn't real.
Here's what happened:
Last evening she-human and I had a lengthy discussion (no yelling, just plain talking) about different tastes in music and she told me about her fancying a boy group when she was a teenager. I had no idea what she meant so she showed me pictures and videoclips of several groups of young humans (presumably male, though I'm not so sure, and neither were they, obviously) in very colourful clothes and of questionable musical talent.
So far so good (or bad).

sun bathing

Did you by any chance recognize that it is sunny outside? Summer in krautland is very unstable, I was told. I am a creature that used to live underground for millenia but I find myself adapting to daylight quite cheerfully. She-human on the other hand has never spend one day of her life underground, and yet she refuses to leave the house whenver it is more than an average 25° Celsius outside. If she has no choice she covers her skin with something called suntan lotion.
Well, naturally, I tried it.
First, I confused it with toothpaste, so I put it in my mouth. Instead of spitting it out I swallowed it. Tastes as shitty as it smells. Then I drenched myself in it. Now I stink. Sweet and sticky, that's what I am now. And above all I have exposed myself to ridicule. Again. Will I ever learn?
You know the answer.
So, now I go outside, the sun is shining, I am trying to enjoy myself. But: I stink. Cats get out of my way (okay, they might have other motives to avoid me), bees find me enormously attractive, wherever I go, things stick to my skin. It's disgusting. The only way to get rid of it will be by taking a bath, I'm afraid. I hate she-human. I really hate her.

I hate my human

I really, really hate her.
Look what she has done.
Don't I deserve a little more respect? First thing one always loses when meeting humans:
Dignity.
Gone.
Forever.

Do we need an orc coroner?

Humans never cease to confuse me.
My own personal human loves stories about other humans that examine dead bodies. Yes, you heard me right. She reads abouth them, she looks at them on telly, she listens to them (No, not to the dead bodies, but to the stories about them. Don't pretend to be more stupid than you actually are.). It seems that she has a morbid fascination for corpses in all stages of decomposition. But only if a crime is involved. Someone's murdered and a forensic medical expert has to find out how it was done.

Busy dictator

In case you're wondering what I'm doing right now (well, not exactly right now, as I am blogging this very moment), but by the time you'll be reading this:
I am a dictator.
Yes, that does not come unexpected, does it. But the good news end here.
I am dictating. Words. To my human.
I know, I know.
Could anything be more pathetic?
I don't think so.
So take my advice: If you ever consider becoming a dictator, do it the proper way, not the book-writing-way. As I have no other options at the moment, I just dream of better days.
The thing I dictate is a story of adventure, of treasures, a shrunken head, and of course my comrades are in it too. Oh, what fun we had.
Those were the days.
Now I am miserable.
Thanks.
:-(

P.S. Ha! She-human feels compelled to console me a bit and offers to cook a nice meal. Always works with these compassionate humans. They'll never learn. Good for me. Grinning from ear to ear now. Oh, must put miserable face back on. Hehe.

A few complaints...

...or as my human put it: mimimi!
Already you begin to see the problem, right?
Yes. I feel neglected.
Lately, my human spends most of her time learning stuff about social networks. When I told her, that I could teach her everything there is to know about it she laughed hysterically. Apparently I have just scratched the iceberg. But I'm not sure whether that iceberg is my human or the amount of knowledge about social media one could gain. How any of this could possibly be related to icebergs at all quite excapes me.
Still, I feel neglected.
I went outside and tried to find pleasure in doing orcish things. For a while it worked, I played capture-the-flag. There's a lot of flags around here, all sorts of flags. Some with black, red and golden stripes, others with a strange blue emblem on a white background (she-human says it's the flag of the local football (i.e. soccer) team, the Arminia). That tribe seems to be a bit more fun than the average human. When I took down the black-red-golden flags, no one bothered. But with the blue-white one it got better: some guys tried to stop me, even ran after me. Only when I showed them my impressive... (I leave it to your imagination what it was that impressed them, hehe), did they stop coming after me, Now I have a nice little collection of flags. It was entertaining for a bit, but not for very long.
So, I still feel neglected.
When I look down from the balcony of my human's flat I see a few cats. They live in my neigbourhood. And I am not allowed to hunt them. They know that. So, they look up to me standing there, and I can definitely spot an evil grin on their face.
Now I feel humiliated.
Don't you think that 'mimimi' is a rather harmless and civilized reaction to all this? Next, they'll tell me I have to pay taxes...

P.S. She-human says that there is indeed a tax called 'Vergnuegungssteuer'. You are taxed for having some fun. Could anything be more depressing?
Mimimimimimi.........

Another holiday

So, she-human told me, this weekend humans celebrate another holiday. From what I saw so far most people are buying a lot of meat and charcoal, in order to have a proper feast. So, no argument there. But I did some research (yes, I do that kind of thing these days, it's disgusting, really) and found out that there's a lot more to this.

Are you an orc at heart?

I have a few questions for you. Don't think about the answers, give them as intuitive as possible and you will find out whether you might have a bit of an orc inside you (and I do NOT mean that literally!).
Here you go:

Random blogging - or: how do they know?

In my last post I announced to write something about orc erotica. My human suggested to try something else first, in order to provide less disgusting content. I don't see what's wrong about being disgusting, I am an orc after all. But here we go (the juicy stuff is only postponed, trust me).
So, in order to find something more blog-worthy I used a topic generator. I had to add three words into it and it would provide me with five new and interesting topics. So far so good. Naturally I used the following three words:

orcs - cats - hunger

Don't think.

The title holds true in so many ways. As in:

• Don' think that I'm gone. I was just enjoying the sunny weather around here.
• Don't think you could trust the human whose home you've occupied. It's a difficult relationship to say the least.
• Don't think at all. Makes a lot of things a lot easier. But that is something humans tend to forget. Which  is somewhat confusing.

Anyway, I came to tell you about something that has struck my mind recently (which is in itself an occurrance of almost divine proportions):
It seems humans try to betray each other, which is one of their more admirable traits. In order to do so, they created something they call 'secret service'. As is appears, they have lots of those.

Environmental Commitment

My human and I had a discussion about eco-friendly stuff.
Yes, we do that kind of thing these days.
I don't understand most of it, though.
As I get it, lots of the stuff that humans produce will not be biodegraded, ever. No monsters live around here to feed on rusty old cars, no Iron Golem that might be pimped with old machine parts.
If you have a pet, you practically destroy the environment. Providing meat for the pet takes up too much farmland for the cows, obviously. I eat meat. I could feed on the pet, would that help?
Of course, she-human became rather angry after that. She always does. Speaking of logic, it's not her most striking feature. Whenever it comes to puppies she gets all gooey-eyed and stops thinking rationally. If I can tell, you see how apparent it really is. Logis isn't my distinct feature either.
So, we all should contribute to protect this world, she said. Like saving clean water.
I did point out that I save a lot more water than anyone else because I do not use any water at all.
I do not flush the toilet, I never shower or bathe, I do not water any flowers, I have no pets (except my human, of course). So, the No. 1 eco-friendly guy, that's me. Challenge me on that one!
And guess? Of course the not-showering-thing did not go down very well with her. Neither did the not-flushing-the-toilet-theme. Humans. Never able to make up their minds.

Cards, not a game I can recommend at all costs

My human and I like to play games. So it was only natural, that we would do it together. Of course we very quickly realized that we do not like the same kind of games, but when she came up with something called strip poker, I was all game. Guess what? Of course. We both hadn't thought it through.
She was rather good at it I have to say, so it was first me to drop my pants, so to say (I rarely ever wear any, so I dropped my loin cloth). That did not go down very well with she-human (I know this sounds wrong on so many levels, and it truly is). But then I got the gist of the game (and how to cheat) and finally won a few. I really shouldn't have. Humans have no beauty, no leathery skin, not even hair where it is appropriate. Basically what I faced was a giant naked mole rat. Some things can never be made unseen. Will not be the same after this. Ever.

In the attic

There's a creature living in the attic.
I wonder how many stories start like that.
Anyway, in this case my human keeps whining and complaining about the hell of a noise said creature makes at night, as it apparently lives above her room called bed. And no, I am not that creature.

The legends of Barb and Seb

So, these days humans celebrate that one moment in the past when their leader was put on a stick. While cross-guy's anniversary is still a bit dubiuos to me (see post from 31st October), she-human told me about some other guys that went through something similar and I very much enjoyed the stories of St. Barbara and St. Sebastian. I mean, to get rid of your enemies is one thing, but to do it in such a creative way, now, that says a lot about your mindset.

Chancellor Thrakbog

I think I might run a campaign to become the next chancellor of krautland. Why shouldn't I, right? They had their 'Frauenquote', now it's about time they get the 'Orkquote' which would be the logical next step on the typically human stupidity, called political correctness. But to be honest I can see myself quite cheerfully, accepting a bunch of flowers after elections, eating them or throwing them in the face of some surprised human. Yes, that would be fun, wouldn't it?

Orc in a wok

My human and I had a bit of a discussion. Alright, a yelling.
About a week ago I had been watching something very interesting on kraut telly. Some very odd folks were using a huge bowl-like dish by the name of Wok to sled down a track. It looked like a lot of fun. (In case you have no idea what I'm talking about: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wok_racing or: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qUHQoD3lgQI )
So, naturally, I wanted to try it myself.
Luckily, she-human owns a wok, so I took it. A series of problems occured:
1. no snow or ice anywhere near where I live right now
2. rooftops are not as useful as I thought
3. stairs have no use either
4. the wok is not suited for a butt of orcish proportions
5. she-human now needs a new wok
6. I might find it difficult to sit for a while

They did not mention all that on the telly. Bunch of liars.
Do you know where I might get a bigger wok?

Orcs' Progress

It just dawned on me that I might safely boast to be the only orc proficient with social networks. Okay, it always depends on how you define proficieny but I think I'm doing rather well, Given the fact that I had been illiterate when I arrived in this world. That brings me to the question how I could use this newly gained knowledge after my return home. She-human tells me the little device I'm currently using will be utterly pointless in my own world as long as no one invented electricity, the internet or four-layered toilet paper.

Of politics and butts

Kraut-land is odd, very odd indeed. Not only do they indulge in something called politics - which not even inlcudes huge axes and hammers - but they do it with such an amount of correctness that makes it practically disgusting.
Gird your loins, folk and gather round, I tell you what disturbs me:

The Orcish Heptathlon

If I remember correctly I have already told you that I am about to write a book about the origins of orcs. Here is a short excerpt that deals with orc sports in particular.

Whenever two tribes meet this does not necessarily end in hostility. Fellow tribes usually celebrate their meeting with some competitive fighting, called the Glorious Games. Competitions might vary in form but the following is an often observed version:

1. Carry the family

This is to be taken literally. The whole family has to be carried over a set distance. Whether all members cling to the strongest at once or the fastest member carries each one separately is up to the families participating. Important is that only one member is allowed to do the carrying, no part of any other body must touch the ground. Childless monogamists are disqualified by rule and tribal honour. The number of family members is not as important as the overall weight of the whole bunch, so three really fat children count as much as six skinny ones, for example.

If I may be allowed a personal note here: The last time I entered into this special competition, I carried two of my wives on my back, the youngest child clung to my leg, and another tried to balance on my head. Unfortunately it covered my eyes with its arms and I stumbled into a river instead of reaching the finishing line, being not only disqualified but also very humiliated.

Again? Really?

I have this bloody stupid flu again. I mean, how is that even possible? My whole life I've never had such a stupid illness, and since I came here it is the second or third time? This is humanity trying to gain the upper hand. But I shall not be overcome by mucus or cióughing fits. I'll stay firm in the face of things that come..., well, out of my face.
But right now, I think I may have a bit of a lie down. I'm rather hot. And for once even I know that it is not very appealing to she-human or anyone else.

The Agency

I have been informed that in this world humans who are without employment have to visit The Agency. The whole idea of not employing yourself by simply doing whatever it is you usually do is very unorcish indeed.
Humans have to go there in order to find employment. They have different names for it, employment agency, job center, dole office. It all comes down to The Agency making sure that said humans get a job. Or so they say. They boast to promote reinstatement, further human's career, and - even more important - they handle the unemployment benefits. If I got that right it means, humans without a job get money for doing nothing. Makes me wonder why anyone would ever think about taking a job at all. She-human explained that The Agency has come to that exact conclusion as well and so they make the humans take any job or else: no money. Problem in this world: no money - no fun.

So, there we are. Unemployed orc.

Sentimental Orc

She-human is reading a book about orcs in space. Looks fantastic, I'd like to do that myself. On the other hand, it probably means, I need to get inside more tin cans. Not a very pleasant thought.
Anyway, some of the pictures in the book show orcs in their battle outfit and it reminds so much of my fellow comrades that I'm getting really sentimental right now. The heads of his slain enemies that Slaag would wear on a pole over his own head as trophies, that's a real looker. I miss him and his stubborn ignorance. I even miss my son in  law and his unpredictable usage of fireballs. Frankly, I would give a lot to be hit by one of them for once. I would cheerfully bear the noises Groisch makes when he jumps his wife. I would even go so far as to say I'd like to see and hear my family. Yes, I admit it. I miss the whole bunch. And now I will give in to that sentimental notion and have some drink. Copious quantities of alcohol are always an answer and solution to an orc's sentiment. Cheers,

Unexpected problems

I've been very busy these days, writing (dictating) my book about the origin of orcs. My chosen name for this -Thracitus - still has a nice ring to it, although orc-purists may say it sounds a bit too scholarly - and therefore unorcish - , which is absolutely right. But writing a book is in itself a traitorous act in some way. My comrades should probably never know about it. But what are the chances right now, ey? And what do I care? I do whatever I want. Dare to contradict me.

Orc got the blues

Finally I found something that gave me hope about the human race. And his name is Muddy Waters. What a great name. She-human said that he died over thirty years ago, but  -  all praise to human technology - I can see him on this electronic device. If you never heard of him, you only got yourself to blame. I added a link to one of his songs, in fact it is the one song, that made me reconsider my opinion about humans in general. A race that can produce a man like this can't be all bad. And this special song is so much a bout me it's actually frightening. He got balls, let me tell you that. So do I, you did know that already, right? You better nod silently, or else I come and get you.

Strange thing is, while I was mesmerised by this incredible song and the even more impressive singer, she-human seemed to drool over the sight of one of the skinny pale guys in the background. I will never understand her. Anyway, when I get home, I'll tell my folk about the Blues. It's gonna change orcish life forever. And for once, change will be good. Very good.
Watch this:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cZ01bSEh4fI

She-human said that it might not be allowed to show that song (something to do with copyrights) but I mean, seriously? This amazing song should not be kept from anyone. Also: I am an orc, so what do I care about laws? I do not even understand it, anyway.
I am a hoochie coochie orc.

Married or not married, that is apparently a question

Now, here's a thing: I have been reading some stuff on the interweb and found something strange. It seems that quite a lot of he-humans of a certain type keep their marriages a secret from the public. I wondered about it and asked she-human who came up with a typical human - and therefore confusing - answer. Let me elaborate:
It seems there are some young males that might be called famous for some thing or other, being successful especially in the music or film business. Those men marry just like any other members of the species but they seem to hide that fact. That in itself isn't what bothers me. There might actually be good reasons to do that, like getting more wives, avoiding evil stepmothers, or even more evil and jealous rivals, and so on.

I am great. In every sense of the word.

She-human has a very strange habit (she has several of those to be precise, but I'm trying to focus here, so shut up), she likes listening to someone reading a book to her. That in itself is NOT odd, as I like doing that myself, when she reads to me. But this someone that she listens to is not around. Those people have recorded their reading on tin, just like the iron butterfly did with the song I liked so much (see one of the previous posts). So, she quietly sits on the couch and listens. She doesn't do anything else and hates it when I interrupt it (yes, I like doing that all the more, of course). When it first happened I thought she was dead and tried to get rid of the body. Big mistake. Won't try that again.

Am I an ad(d)-orc?

I had a lengthy discussion (no yelling, I am SO learning to behave, it's disgusting, really) with she-human about this new facebook thingy. You know, collecting all kinds of information about you, now even more than ever. She said that the organization wants more data about their users in order to individualize their advertising. I didn't understand even half of it. What I DO know though, is that you never give your enemy more info than absolutely neccessary. Or simply wrong information, which makes it a lot more fun.
So, if I were to register at facebook, would they send me orc-related ads? What could that possibly be?
A "pillaging-do-it-yourself"-starter-set?
"Axe-polish, for the daily beheading"?
"Monster shop, everything for your pet"?
Actually, I think I'll get myself an account and see what they'll come up with. How will facebook deal with orcs?

No flowers in MY hair. I'm bold.

I've been going through she-human's tin-music (everything human comes in tins, remember?) and laughed my ass off (not really, as it is massive and it would need more laughter than any lung could possibly hold in order to laugh it off), when I came upon something called 'Flower Power'. I mean, really?

Sausage-people and orcs - common ancestors?

As I told you in my last post, I seriously consider writing a book about the origins of orcs. So, for once I did what she-human suggested, I read another book. Only this time it was short and rather entertaining (no females in lace). What really surprised me though, was the sheer overwhelming similarity between kraut- or sausage-humans and orcs, especially their fighting style. If you don't believe me, here's a copy of said book:
http://www.gutenberg.org/files/2995/2995-h/2995-h.htm

Also, I think that this Tacitus guy has done a really good job of presenting his topic. To honour his spirit I'm thinking of writing my own book under a different name. I think I like Thracitus.

Who better than me?

I should write a book. Seriously.
As I found out, the human I am currently sharing a flat with has quite a substantial number of books (don't make me count them, let's say: a lot). And some of these are about orcs. 'Hang on' you gonna think, and rightly so. How come that humans write books about creatures that
a) do not exist around here (at least to their knowledge, we know better of course) and
b) are not their own species?
How dare they.

Sausages

I had a proper look around, these last couple of days, despite the crappy weather. And I realized: the humans around here should by no means be called krauts. True, that stuff is available at those market-like buildings, stored in tins (everything concerning human comes in tins). But I never once saw anyone actually eat it.
What they DO eat, constantly, is bread and sausages. It comes in various forms and tastes, and it is available literally everywhere. Humans enjoying their favourite pastimes (football, not internet-trolling) - who's already there? A sausage-seller. a remote place, deep in the forest, a carpark, and? Right. Sausageman. Or Sausagewoman. the humans do not seem to mind who sells that stuff as long as they get it, preferably with a slice of bread and some green stuff called mustard. THAT is fantastic shit, I tell you. And it does funny things to the nose, when you eat at least a mouthful of it. I love it all.
So, today I may proudly say I am a sausage-orc. With a mustard-mustache. Life is great. Fuck the rain.

Re: the golden-poo-year

I thought you might want to hear how that incredibly exciting adventure began, when five dragons were threatening our world and yet the year was named after metallic excrements. One day I might tell you the whole tale but today only the beginning. If you are wondering who the guys are that are having this chat, go back to older posts and do some proper reading.

Slaag: "This is NOT a dragon!"
Me: "But it is."
Groisch: "No way! It's tiny. I feel betrayed."
Vorn: "Now you know how your wife always feels."
Noden: "And it IS a dragon."
"A toddler - at most."
"Then stay away from it. It just hatched. I don't want it to follow us because it thinks you are its mom."
"Baby dragons are harmless."
"Then why are your pants on fire?"
"Hehe. Have you been talking to my wife?"
"Seriously. Your pants are burning."
"I'm not wearing any pants - just a loin cloth."
"Too much information !!!"