News of my death* by digestion has been greatly exaggerated. I'm totally fine. No way The Wizard would choose to eat me over a freshly heated box of frozen pizza bagels. He even let me have a few. He's a good guy. Some of you people have said some mean things. I want you to know The Wizard is a guest in my home. Granted, it's not been exactly what I hoped for... yet. But please, in the future, I hope that you can give him the respect that a Warlock of his stature deserves. I think he's earned it.
I'm still excited that The Wizard teleported into my life. He's there with wisdom and answers during this tough patch in my life. He offered me hope with a mere wave of his magic wand.**
True, The Wizard hasn't actually done any conjuring for me but I have to say it's just comforting to know that I have a powerful sorcerer and wizened scholar of the world right by my side. When is the last time a master of the dark arts appeared at your door when you needed an emotional boost in your life? Yeah, that's what I thought.
He told some fascinating (true) tales of otherworldly events and encounters that had my mind spinning with amazement. I think the second day of the Wiz's visit was basically fine except for the fact that he turned every conversation to matters of a carnal nature. I didn't know the answers to his questions. I didn't know where he could go to hook up with a "Latina honey-ho" that could "stiffen his "man-staff." I feared that I had not proven myself worthy of his enchanted intervention in my life. He started to swear and sweat even more than he normally did and he sent me out on a mini-quest to get him some "Hearty Dwarven Stout, or a Robust Mead" to calm aura."
When I came back from 7-Eleven with just a 12-pack of beer and a bottle of Absolut Vodka, he was not pleased. He starting getting verbally abusive and the skin under his chin became flushed. I apologized effusively and after some pouting and muttering The Wizard reluctantly tried the metal canister of "unworthy beverage." He seemed to like it and I was relieved.
After he had pounded down a few of the beers his voice got a bit slurry and he began hugging me a bit more than seemed necessary. He asked me if I wanted to see a taste of his magic. I got goosebumps in anticipation. The the Wizard quickly downed the rest of his beer made a quick magic gesture and extended index finger. His look of intensity made me think that perhaps a bolt of lightening might shoot out from his hand. He commanded me to tug upon his digit. Then he let out a wet fart. It wasn't what I was expecting but the volume it reached was definitely impressive. I think perhaps I am gaining The Wizard's trust. I need to go run out and get him some Oreo cookies and Funyons right now. Perhaps they're ingredients for a dazzling spell. I hope so! More later.
Oh and the Wizard just called to me from the bathtub. He says he's ready to answer any and all of your questions with his ancient and mystic wisdom.
** Sorry not "wand." I mean to say staff. The Wizard says "wand" makes him sound like "a friggin' gaylord pufter."
* News of my death has been widely reported all over the internet. And when I say "all over the internet" I mean three comments in my blog post.
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11 comments:
Hey, here's one:
"When I ask my wife what time it is, she always responds in an angry tone, and says 'Time to call the lawyers, dead-beat!' Do you think my marriage might be in trouble?"
I wish I'd thought to ask his Lardness this question before!
Anyway, glad to hear you've suffered from Twain's disease and nothing more. (Mark Twain having originally being thought to be dead when he was in fact just hanging out at his place with a fat-arsed wizard houseguest for days on end.)
If the wizard doesn't get you an ointment for Twain's disease, I can probably help you out with that.
Funyons? what is? i don't speak american.
kranki, i thought the wizard was going to offer you a taste of his STAFF
Ask the Wizard how to spell poofter.
Also, ask him how to stop the cat from sitting on the keyboard.
Please.
I agree with Quirkie on the spelling thing (although I think it may have been a dig at the Australian accent from an American's point-of-view).
As for the cat thing, I predict some nasty and cruel answer will be forthcoming.
Ask him if me moving to a uni 4000km away to be with a boy is a bad idea. Also, ask why everytime I look at the clock I see palindromical times.
*looks at clock*
1.06 am.
Except for then.
buggar, just missed it
i was going for 10:01 just for you anna
Everybody. I am truly truly sorry that I showed The Wizard how to blog. It seemed like a good idea at the time.
This wizard scares me. I thought wizards wore adorable wire-rimmed glasses and travelled on steam trains to invisible schools in the Scottish countryside. But this one, he's such a bad-ass. He'd be expelled for sure (or be in Slytherin).
"LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSER!"
Sorry, just a bit of self-abuse, there. I find it keeps me in check.
My parents lived with an actual wizard in their first sharehouse together in 1970-something. He was their housemate of choice, as
the others included a guy who tried to strangle my mum, and a woman who worked with juvenile offenders and thought it was 'good life experience' to bring them home and help them roll joints on the kitchen table. So maybe if you come to Australia you can meet a REAL LIFE WIZARD (b.y.o. cape) although I'm told he's rather staid these days. Big sell-out.
This is the babbling girl, signing out.
I love your babbles, Babbling Girl. I will not let the Wizard get near you with any of his "schemes."
BTW If I become fully Schizo would somebody please tell me. I don't want to be the last personality to find out that I'm sharing a body.
i don't know whether to be offended or flattered. i am just really scared of that arm of his.
Ahahaha ... The Wizard rules!
I have totally reversed my low opinion of him (I've even returned to referring to him with a capital W!) as a direct result of these comments from The Wizard.
Great stuff!
Kranki, if you ever get too crowded inside that head of yours, feel free to come on over. I've got maybe one or two spare rooms inside my head, although there's still a lot of rubbish in there from the last tenant. There's a lot of us in here, but we bunk-up. Plus, we have cockroaches.
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