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.
Showing posts with label I'm doing it. Show all posts
Showing posts with label I'm doing it. Show all posts
2015/05/31
2015/03/29
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?
2015/03/22
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?
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?
2015/02/11
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.
2015/01/18
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.
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.
2015/01/15
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.
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.
2014/12/07
self portrait
Who would have thought that painting a bloody picture could actually be a pain in the ... claw. If you're not sure what that is:
Me in a pink tutu. In order to amuse my human and kill her by making her laugh hysterically. Didn't work so far but was a close call.
2014/11/17
Through France-human-land, I think.
The local human population refused to speak with me, except a young lad who explained at least Europe's map to me. Odd that he knew this guy who owns the map. Strangely enough he stopped being helpful when I asked him about the frogs. Maybe amphibians are fearsome creatures in this part of the world.
After walking on my own for a while I was being picked up by a human in a huge driving tin which he had all to himself (and hundreds of dead animals in the back). He said he was from a place called Bulgaria, bringing meat to France, and then taking other meat from France to Bulgaria. We both agreed that questioning the logic behind that was a sure route to insanity. Been there.
His name was Stojan and he had pictures painted on his skin: a lizard, a naked she-human and the heart of his mother. Holy Trolls of Trellagore! I envisioned myself coming home with that last one. Hehe. I would be the laughing stock of the tribe. And then my family would get very creative to find an exceptionally painful and humiliating way to slaughter me. And rightly so. I decided to keep my opinion to myself for once as Stojan was so friendly and useful. And the france-meat was rather delicious, too. But: not one frog to talk to. No france-humans either. We're on our way to kraut-land now.
After walking on my own for a while I was being picked up by a human in a huge driving tin which he had all to himself (and hundreds of dead animals in the back). He said he was from a place called Bulgaria, bringing meat to France, and then taking other meat from France to Bulgaria. We both agreed that questioning the logic behind that was a sure route to insanity. Been there.
His name was Stojan and he had pictures painted on his skin: a lizard, a naked she-human and the heart of his mother. Holy Trolls of Trellagore! I envisioned myself coming home with that last one. Hehe. I would be the laughing stock of the tribe. And then my family would get very creative to find an exceptionally painful and humiliating way to slaughter me. And rightly so. I decided to keep my opinion to myself for once as Stojan was so friendly and useful. And the france-meat was rather delicious, too. But: not one frog to talk to. No france-humans either. We're on our way to kraut-land now.
2014/11/16
Orc on a plane? Nope.
As she-human and I were now irreconcilably divided, I no longer saw a good reason to stay in the metropolis, as I had not the slightest clue to a way home around here.
I mean, having marital disputes is the normal state of being for me and my countless wives. But she-human and I were not even married, so why did she bother? Anyway, I was no longer wanted (ok, I might not have been wanted at all to be honest), so I was going to leave (now, that's a first).
The thing is, she wanted to help me (to get rid of me, of course) and said the quickest way of getting elsewhere was by plane. I had no idea what she meant, so she took me to Heathrow.
I mean, having marital disputes is the normal state of being for me and my countless wives. But she-human and I were not even married, so why did she bother? Anyway, I was no longer wanted (ok, I might not have been wanted at all to be honest), so I was going to leave (now, that's a first).
The thing is, she wanted to help me (to get rid of me, of course) and said the quickest way of getting elsewhere was by plane. I had no idea what she meant, so she took me to Heathrow.
2014/09/24
Book Review?
First of all let me assure you that I've never read a single book in my life. Just to make sure that you see I'm not a sissy. I'm an orc, and orcs don't read books. Ever. Having said that I have to admit that there are exceptions. I watched comrade Noden do it occasionally and found it mildly disturbing how he would totally get absorbed by it, completely ignoring his surroundings. Highly dangerous pastime, reading. His eyes would glaze over in a way they should only ever do when looking at my daughter, his wife. So he fancies books. It took me a while to see his qualities as a clever orc underneath all this sissiness.
Now, thanks to a purely arbitrary act of a god I am capable of reading and writing myself. I find that I still don't trust the whole bookish stuff but my human convinced me to give it a go. One of the rooms we currently share (alright, I occupy against her will) is filled with an endless number of books. Could be several dozen or hundreds. Remember, I'm not good with numbers. Human insists that it's just an average number and that there are whole buildings filled with books, called libraries. I've heard of those. Where I come from that's where the wizards go to study. Might have a look at the British Library to find a sorcerer later. For now one room filled with books should suffice. So she suggested I have a look at them and pick one that sounded interesting to me. I didn't even know where to begin so she started to give me short summaries to narrow it down. Why one writes a long book when it could be summarized with a few words totally escapes me. After about half a dozen plots I got tired of it and picked one randomly (alright, it was the thinnest I could find on the shelf). Human began to laugh hysterically which is never a good sign and made me promise to read it to the last page. I agreed maybe a bit rashly, caught by my vanity. She pointed at the book and remarked how fitting this would be then. I read the words on the cover:
Now, thanks to a purely arbitrary act of a god I am capable of reading and writing myself. I find that I still don't trust the whole bookish stuff but my human convinced me to give it a go. One of the rooms we currently share (alright, I occupy against her will) is filled with an endless number of books. Could be several dozen or hundreds. Remember, I'm not good with numbers. Human insists that it's just an average number and that there are whole buildings filled with books, called libraries. I've heard of those. Where I come from that's where the wizards go to study. Might have a look at the British Library to find a sorcerer later. For now one room filled with books should suffice. So she suggested I have a look at them and pick one that sounded interesting to me. I didn't even know where to begin so she started to give me short summaries to narrow it down. Why one writes a long book when it could be summarized with a few words totally escapes me. After about half a dozen plots I got tired of it and picked one randomly (alright, it was the thinnest I could find on the shelf). Human began to laugh hysterically which is never a good sign and made me promise to read it to the last page. I agreed maybe a bit rashly, caught by my vanity. She pointed at the book and remarked how fitting this would be then. I read the words on the cover:
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)