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Friday, November 8th, 2002
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9:10 pm - this is the end
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Hello, my dearest friends, it's been ages upon ages since I have last updated or made contact with anyone, really. I'm going to tell you all a little story, an occurence which may or may not have happened, but it makes a nice little story, eh? Sit back, enjoy a cuppa Romulan ale, and laugh when your teeth is stained blue for the next eighteen weeks and your bowels shift green. Though you probably did not want to hear about that. Hee!
( Read on... )
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(84 comments | comment on this)
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| Saturday, September 7th, 2002
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8:19 pm - uhhhh huh
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Oh, the old days.
There was a time when I wandered around Middle Earth (after my illustrious career as Beanomir which ended after higher powers got bored of the persona) with a fellowship of critters that had randomly been picked out of the X-Phile universe.
So, whilst I was amusing myself making crop circle egg-toast thingamajiggers (you know, the dish that is toast with the hole in the middle of it and filling the hole is an egg) and Nerdanel was in the kitchen too, singing and making orange juice, something caught my eye.
This creature was peering through the kitchen window with a most terrifyingly famished expression glued on its face. I dropped my fucking skillet and Nerdanel dropped the pitcher of orange juice with a shriek.
Then the creature raised its mighty fists and charged and blew a fucking hole right through the kitchen window and ran straight for the skillet and consumed it. Then it screamed and made wild gesticulations as the whites of its eyes rolled about... and then it fainted.
Messy.
Uh, long story short, the creature is a yeti. A yeti that was impregnated by BOB II. Remember BOB II? He looked like this. And apparently this female yeti was a messenger from BOB II who is apparently being held hostage by the Las Vegas Mob for the sum of $400,000. Something about gambling debts.
Of course I cannot let my dear old friend get himself blown full of fucking holes by the mafia, so I did the only proper and honourable thing someone can do for a friend in need: sold the homestead in Greenland, sell all the stocks that I own for Ulmo in Furs, and then filing for bankruptcy.
Sigh.
So, Nerdanel and I are moving in Mahtan's house until I can figure out what to do next.
The things I do for my fucking friends.
current mood: bah.
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| Tuesday, August 13th, 2002
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12:27 am
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Three out of... five of my parents' children are maiar and working for Manwe, Melkor, and Vaire, respectively. You would expect them to be damned proud of us but most likely they are distracted by other things. Such as coitus. But no matter, we all seem to appear as overachieving bastards now, but it's due to an insane amount of luck. Because maybe they like us, like, they really like us! Or maybe they don't - I have no idea about these things. I do not know what I am going on about.
I like cotton candy.
And we've kicked Aratan and Beregond out of the band and brought in Tulkas. Or at least, I did. Current lineup: Thomomir, Faramir, Thengel, Tulkas and we need a drummer.
Startling announcement: my brother looks weirder with a beard than I do. It's a durned fact.
And Nerdanel aborted a six week old fetus that she claimed is not mine.
Reassuring, really.
Hey look! Is that sleep coming over me? I believe it is. zzzzzz.
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| Friday, August 2nd, 2002
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12:12 am - SHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHHAAAAH
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| Sunday, July 21st, 2002
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11:25 am
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| Saturday, July 20th, 2002
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12:31 pm - i'm a fountain of blood in the shape of a girl
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*heavy sigh*
I have a secret.
Every Thursday night, I go to Lorien and attend the Interpretive Dance classes that are taught by Claude.
And I heart Bjork. Her charm and elfin features make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
That is all.
current music: me and bjork - i've seen it all
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| Thursday, July 18th, 2002
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9:14 pm
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Mmmm.
*gathers together with Tindomiel and Elfhild*
*joins the rest of the idle puppets on Audrey's bookshelves until our favourite person in the entire world returns*
Ooooooh!
*starts reading Tropic of Capricorn to pass the time*
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(comment on this)
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| Monday, July 8th, 2002
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10:16 pm - if i take a chair and start to talk shit
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Back in Greenland, after shuffling back and forth between Valinor and Apartment Pi, although there isn't really much of a difference as in both dimensions have valar taking residence in its rooms and fucking in its facilities, as well as Surround Sound speakers blasting the dialogue between Spock and Kirk at the end of Star Trek II 24/7.
Amras is here. When not painting or singing rubbish to himself, he carries around a basket of eggs and a frying pan outside trying to scramble them over the snow and the flame of a bic lighter. Cute kid, even though he is several... thousand years older than me. Yeah.
We rescued Amrod from where he was being beaten and living on gruel and peanuts for the past few weeks or so and placed him in a nice comfortable clinic where there is a 12 step programme which apparently enlightens you when you decide to devote your life to serving a vala of your pick. Or something. Its windows were nice and polished though; that's got to be a good thing.
I get fan mail from Manwe. Ehehehe. Cool.
I have no idea what the fuck is up with Faramir. Or my father who still seems to be prepubescent.
See that? Wonky eye. :D
current music: uh, me - a reminder
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| Wednesday, June 19th, 2002
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10:40 pm
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| Sunday, June 16th, 2002
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7:23 pm
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I'm in Valinor now, staying with Nerdanel who is currently taking care of her youngest son Amras who is still... under the weather. Even though I'm Manwe's maia, I haven't actually visited his home or anything since he made me one, so I decided to drop by.
I found him slumped in front of the television with an empty martini glass in one hand and the opposite arm bound with a belt. I only stood there for about two seconds before he suddenly jerked awake and shouted, 'What, no! I wasn't shooting up, Varda, I swear!!' He looked at me confused with drool falling from the corner of his mouth for a few minutes before he finally recognised who I was.
'Oh, hi Thomomir. What's up, man?' he said.
'I'm staying here with Nerdanel for a while and I thought I'd visit. Um. Hi.'
He motioned towards the wall. 'Are you hungry? Help yourself... I got the munchies earlier today... or yesterday... or a few weeks ago... and made enough lasagna for sixteen people. It's still frozen in the fridge. Just heat up and help yourself.' At this point, he started to flick at his left arm and muttering, 'I know I have a good clean vein here somewhere.'
'I'm fine, Manwe, sir. I just wanted to visit you and see how you were. I'll come by later. Bye!'
And I rushed out. I wandered around some more and then Irmo came galloping up to me. He winked, flipped his hair, and sparkled his teeth at me and said, 'Have you ever considered staying here permanently and maybe investing in plastic surgery? Not for your eye, your eye is perfect but for your ears. Your voice is so sexalicious, especially when you're covering Bryan Ferry songs. So what do you say, hmm?'
At this point, I start backing up slowly and then I run away screaming.
At another point of the day, I also bumped into Orome and his decomposing collection of baby fetuses but I will not get into that.
I am currently hiding under the guest room bed in Mahtan's house.
I am frightened. Terribly, terribly frightened.
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(29 comments | comment on this)
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| Friday, June 14th, 2002
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9:47 pm - Er.
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| Sunday, June 9th, 2002
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1:21 am
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Thomomir (to Elladan): Are you sure you don't want your hand fixed or anything? It's like... greenish-purplish and looks a lot like moldy grape jelly.
Elladan: Nah, see, I like looking at it. I'll observe with fascination until my untire arm falls off and then I'll just observe with fascination until I croak. It's like looking out the window. The scenery always changes.
Thomomir: I see. Do you at least want some air freshner or something? Your hand sort of smells.
Elladan: Sure, thanks.
Thomomir: *gives you an aeresol can* Tangerine scented.
Elladan: Thanks! *spritzes* You know, I feel like I should give you something in return for your kindness.
Thomomir: Oh no, you don't have to at all, it's perfectly fine.
Elladan: NonononononoNOnonono! I will, just wait here.
Thomomir: ....okay.
Elladan: I'll just be a moment. *runs off and finds a knife and cuts off middle finger and rushes off*
Thomomir: ...
Elladan: *comes back with a parcel tucked under arm* I just sold my middle finger to those dwarves and I bought you a keyboard with the money, see!!
See, isn't it nice?!!
Thomomir: Um, it is. But, uh. O_O
Elladan: Don't look so shocked, it's such a great revelation. I should be selling my limbs for money or something. Even though I don't really need the money, it's not like the pain is important or anything to me. I just want to make people happy, see? Don't you like your keyboard?
Thomomir: Yes, it's a very nice keyboard, but really, I would rather have you keep your hand intact than have this keyboard...
Elladan: SO YOU DON'T LIKE IT??? But... I cut off my finger for you and everything!!
Thomomir: I don't really know what to say...
Elladan: Fuck this. First Faramir and then you. People don't appreciate sacrifices anymore, that's what. And it's a fucking great keyboard too, a Ondes Martenot. You just don't see those around!!!! Fuck this.
Thomomir: Um, I'm sorry?
Elladan: Ugh, just keep it. I'm going off to find somebody who appreciates what I do for them, ok?? Good fucking bye.
Thomomir: Er, bye.
----
Please give that elf some therapy? Pleasepleaseplease?
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(20 comments | comment on this)
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| Saturday, June 8th, 2002
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7:40 pm - Hi
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Hello. I guess I haven't said much the last few days. I've been sort of lying comatose under the desk and then when I woke up, there was a note taped to my forehead that read:
Dear Thomomir,
Family troubles. Must pick up Amras and negotiate with Numenorean government. Will be back soon. I left you lasagna in the refrigerator.
XOXO,
N.
So, um, I guess Nerdanel is gone. I don't know what to do. I gave up on the reindeer project after I accidently gave them Drano. Um.
I got a letter from BOB II today. It reads:
Yo muthafucka,
Wassssssup? I've been here groovin' to mah bitchaz here in Vegas. I'm runnin' a harem agency here and WOOOOOOO WEEEEEE you wouldn't believe the hot a$$ I got pimpin' here, yo. Chikkas have legs up to *here* ya know what I'm sayin', foo'? Makes ya want them to sic those legs on ya and give ya ONE HELLZ OF A WHACKIN' JOB, ya know what I'm sayin'? And there's this one hot slut Maggie, her titties are so phuckin' perky, her little nubs reach her NECK!!! YEEEE HAW, my brotha, she is the HOT SHIZNIK. HOT HOT HOTTTTSSS!
I oughtta send ya one of my whores, my brotha. Ride and bounce ya like a phuckin' *donkey*, ya know what I'm hintin' at, bro? Anyway, I gots to run, yo. One of my sluts is callin' me, askin' for a backrub or some $hit. Catch ya lataz!!
Lord BOB II, Esquire.
PS. Cut the fat on those phuckin' horseburgers, yo. They be givin' my hos jiggy a$$es--the type that ain't good for the bizz. Peace out, my nigga brotha!
...BOB II has changed since I knew him. He used to viciously maul and consume the whores and strippers rather than... copulate with them. Um. Anyhow, I'm glad to see that he's doing well.
Even though I'm a bit terrified. Oooh, I feel an epileptic fit coming on.
*collapses and starts to spasm*
current mood: epileptic
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(6 comments | comment on this)
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| Monday, June 3rd, 2002
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10:57 pm - my daddy paid attention to me today! i got a fake plastic treeeeeee
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Happiness from that! :D
Awww, my precious has rolled away to create more destruction upon Middle Earth which haven't been caused before. I shall miss it but it's in, um, good hands now. Nice pecs, Mr. Sam!
So. My brother is still fucking deranged (I can claim that he's more deranged than I now, I think), the formerly and seemingly sexless BEREGOND OF ALL PEOPLE is eloping with an elf in Vegas, and some metallic-looking dragon was slayeth... or something.
Yeah.
Um.
The reindeer project is going along nicely!!! However, I think with the genetic mutation I'm doing with my powerful maia powers is somehow faulted - they all have the Nike swoosh on their flanks in green. I'm sort of pissed. I'm considering killing them all and starting over again, hopefully with a less offensive logo appearing, like... uh... EMI Records... or something.
Nerdanel is still here. She's very nice. Hee.
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| Friday, May 31st, 2002
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7:41 pm
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| Wednesday, May 29th, 2002
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4:28 pm
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Eee yayayayayayayayayayayay.
I've started to take pills. Sometimes, late at night, my limbs elongate and extend towards the pulse points of the closest sentient being, most of the time, being her. I'll sing you a song! I heard one time that everyone is at risk of brain aneurysms - consume an asprin, advil, tylenol - one a day and avoid rupturing veins inside your skull as you drop flat, dead to the ground. Carbon monoxide is the most painless way to go. Fall into a deep slumber with the motor running - slice your fingertips open while holding a cigarette for a farewell fuckall to the earth - snuff yourself out before cancer eats livers and digs into grey speckled lungs.
Though there is an overabundance of horse meat, I think my job at breeding equines is rather fucking futile. I live ontop of glaciers stacked up each other with no speck of straw in sight - they have to be specially imported or I play alchemist with rings. Dead dead dead, they're all dead. I'm not sure what to do. My grandfather suggested that I start breeding reindeer instead - I will grow mossy antlers out of their heads, dye black spots upon their bodies, affix enema bulbs upon their noses, and the like.
Grow cotton candy from their snouts.
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(15 comments | comment on this)
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| Tuesday, May 28th, 2002
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6:14 pm - ya can't hide it, man
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4:06 pm
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Take the Radiohead Collective Member Test.
Today, as I was ingesting some potato crisps, an entire world filled with yellow mascara, gluesticks, aluminum foil wrapped in polysterene sunk its fangs into my skull and unleashed its full intoxicating force of seizures, eyeglasses, and botched eye surgeries. One, there is a reason why eyes are symmetrical. When I was a lad, a tinier lad, in age, in girth, but not in height, I had eaten a wildebeast and as it floated through my guts, I thought to myself, 'self, you're transmitting Thomas Edward Yorke who once declared that his father had a face that you wanted to hit.' I fell underneath the coffee table after spotting a beautiful girl and your stomach turned to ashes. You wonder, why is she here? Why is she looking at me, and why on earth are you breeding equines ontop of glaciers.
She looked a bit like this.
What a fine face, you think. A face you'll never have. Fall to the ground, you think. Weep and shove your throat and gullet with pills and sweat cold drops and paint your face white. It can't be done, they tell you. There's not a man alive who can catch that worm - just eat the worm before it digs a cave inside of you and picks away at your kidneys. You find a kindred spirit whose words struck meaning inside of your cavern: He spoke of condiments that could be made from the neverending resources that can be wrought out from inside the human body.
Furrow your brows for a moment and contemplate. Construct tadpoles from urine. You're in looooooooooooooove.
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(4 comments | comment on this)
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| Friday, May 24th, 2002
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6:40 pm
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MybrotherisgoingtoliveinaholeMybrotherisgoingtoliveinahole
MybrotherisgoingtoliveinaholeMybrotherisgoingtoliveinahole
MybrotherisgoingtoliveinaholeMybrotherisgoingtoliveinahole
MybrotherisgoingtoliveinaholeMybrotherisgoingtoliveinahole
This makes me sad. I didn't even get to see him or anything since that thing with Ms. Dernhelm. FARAMIRRRRRRRR COME BACK SOOONNNNN!!! Or I might have to pluck your bearded lumberjack self out of that desert hole myself. Either that or I'll send one of Feanor's sons to get you; that Amras seems strangely attached to you. Hmmm.
Elladan is a fucking butthole.
That is all.
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(38 comments | comment on this)
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| Sunday, May 19th, 2002
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6:33 pm - doot doot doot
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I can't be fucked to re-read Lord of the Rings.
Hey C.S. Lewis! Write me into one of your fucking books instead.
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boromirofgondor's journal
