Friday 28 September 2012

100 Word Story - Sexy Helicopter Edition

Hi everybody!

I didn't mean to neglect you. I'm sorry. Please take me back. Please? O.K. I'm back.

Now that that's all over and done with, I wrote 100 more words for you. Admittedly, it's kind of creepy, but I'm living in a tall apartment building now, so things are different than I'm used to. Enjoy.


He is often seen chopping his way through the sky. People think nothing of him, even though his only concern is for them. He watches the way the roads move, the tiny colorful insects beneath him. He comes from above, twisting around buildings. The major centres are his territory, and he watches carefully. He sees the patterns. But this is not all he sees. When he is in the skies, he is unnoticed. The high rises are eye level, and people mistake height for privacy. Their intimacy is his pastime. He watches for danger. But he also watches for pleasure.

EEEEEEEEW. Like I always said, people with helicopters are up to no good. Disgusting.

Give me ideas, because apparently when I do this on my own, they're all gross.

Have fun!

-V-

Friday 24 August 2012

100 Word Story - Facebook Edition

Hiya folks!

I'm back, trying to write short things that are also entertaining at the same time. It's harder than I remember! Damn this concise collection of words. Oh well, I'm winging this one. It's about a sentient facebook account. I like sentience, especially in things that don't deserve it. Let's see how it goes.


It's all so simple. A young man signs in and wonders why parents have to be so awful. I like what he says, letting him know that I agree with him. I offer to play a game with him, and he does. If he does a good job, he levels up, levels up, levels up. I send him requests, keep him tied to the computer. His attention keeps me alive. I ask him to tend to crops, and he complies. I ask him to send gifts to other people. He'll get some in return. Doesn't he realize there's nobody there?  

That got a touch creepier than I thought it was going to. But isn't that always the case when you're shooting crap off the top of your head?

Send me ideas if you want to. I'll write them into stories. Or send me a story, and I'll break it down into ideas, although that's less fun.

-V

Tuesday 21 August 2012

The Honeymoon's Over...

...But I mean that in the nicest possible way. Lindsay and I have returned from our Asian vacasian, and it was a splendid trip indeed. I had a great time being a minority in a culture that values happiness, calmness, and laughter above money, status, and power. They thought very highly of us financially, because we were white, but with a little harmless bantering, and never losing sight of that buddhist goal of inner peace, we were able to work wonders with them.

In order of preference, I rank them thusly:

1. Cambodia - The closest thing to what I would imagine a southeastern Asian country to be like. It was kind of dirty and dusty, and the people were generally very poor, with the occasional rich guy driving around in a Lexus. They viewed us as somewhat of a novelty, or at the very least, recognized us for the travellers we were. No one ever complained or had disparaging words for others or anything, really. Plus, it's superduper beautiful.

2. South Korea - Although we weren't there for very long, it quickly became one of our favourite places in the world. To be in a country that had no need for our white dollars really opened my eyes to how pushy the western world is. I already knew we were pushy, but after being in a country that figured we were just there to be annoying, it became very obvious that we accomplish nothing by feeling so superior to third world countries. South Korea is what Canada would be if we were all way richer. All of us.

3. Thailand - This was the main focus of our trip, so it's kind of disappointing that we liked it the least. Still, it's incredibly beautiful and has such a wide range of experiences from north to south that there was no way we would miss it. Elephants are supercool, and we met lots of great friends travelling.

In all, I recommend you all get out of your strange little white guy bubbles and go see what the hell the rest of the world looks like. Believe me, you'll enjoy it.

I'm going to resume blogging on a more regular basis once we're moved into our new Victoria apartment, so if you want me to write any supershort stories, send me them ideas, and I shall. Otherwise, you'll just hear stuff that Danielle already wrote about at Royal Roads.

Kthxbai (that's Asian for Ok, thank you, goodbye)

Friday 8 June 2012

100 Word Story - Thailand Edition

Hi everyone!

You'll have to bear with me on this one today. I'm in Thailand, and all the words on the computer are in Thai. So I'm kind of going on sense memory with this thing. Also, I have no way of doing a proper word count, so it's basically just something close to 100 words. Today, this story is brought to you by the letter Eeew and the number 10 000 000 bugs.

Spiders are everywhere. Mosquitoes are everywhere, feeding the spiders. There are flies, worms, bedbugs, cockroaches, beetles, and all kinds of creepies that have crawlies. And they're everywhere. But I've got the solution. I bought this bag, you see. You step into it and pull it up over your head. There's a drawstring, and it tightens up over your face. It's like a cocoon. Hey, wait a minute. I think they tricked me. Now they're all over me. I can't get out. I can barely breathe. Get off of me, you monsters! You can have my blood over my dead body!

Scary! And I think they'll probably succeed. Most of our blood is gone, having been replaced with whatever it is mosquitoes put in you to make you itch. But honestly, Thailand is awesome. I recommend it to all of you, and immediately. You know. So we can hang out on an elephant.

Ok, that's all for now. I'll have better stories once the malaria wears off.

V.

Sunday 6 May 2012

100-Word Story - Avengers edition


Hello. There's only one girl on the Avengers. And she's the weakest. What does that say about us as a society, huh? 

There are boys everywhere. Some girls, too. They're watching this thing, on the screen. It's about four guys, and they have awesome super powers. They use them to fight the forces of evil, and set the world right. They stand up for the little guy, and do the damaging that needs to be done. You could say they're avenging us. Although that implies that we've already been killed. But whatever. They shoot lightning and punch airplanes. Oh, what? There's a girl? What's her power? Guns? That's not really a power. Oh well. I didn't even want to see it anyway.

This was a pointless update, but I felt it was necessary. 

Give me ideas. I'll write them. For realsies.

Ok bye.

Tuesday 24 April 2012

Kaboom! Go buy a Trans-Am.

If you can't get ahold of a Trans-Am, get a Firebird. Also not possible? Then chop the lid off your car, put this CD in the music thing, and crank that bitch until the knob falls off. Drive really damn fast and listen to Heaviside's new album, "Wasted Generation."

This thing reminded me of what music should be. The bass is fuzzed, the drums are fast, and lead singer Mitchell's vocal range can be described as nothing less than bitchin'. Johno's guitar solos sound like they were born from the song, not written. They are fluid and melodic and beautiful, and right where they need to be. The rhythm section smashes it up, blending together like gasoline and orange juice, creating a fiery napalm ocean that the guitars and vocals ride over on surfboards of iron and leather and electricity. This is a band to be reckoned with. And they're damn well ready to reckon.

We're stuck in a world of over-produced pop garbage, with layer upon layer of sound hiding what little musical value there is to be gained, and we're selling every single twelve-year-old as the next big thing, when all they're doing is rehashing the stuff that's come before them, with more sex and more technological advancement. Heaviside decided to keep the sex, and cut way back on the technology. This thing sounds like it could have travelled in a flux-capacitor-powered El Camino from 1977, bringing with it chicks in tiny jean-shorts and fluorescent bikini tops, drinking Michelob Lite out of their own cleavage with brightly-coloured twisty-straws.

Heaviside's not trying to sell you on any heavy message. They don't bog their music down with deep metaphors and soul-altering questions. They shoot you with a party gun, and bring you back to life with a rock 'n' roll defibrillator.

I had a blast listening to this album. It's the first time in years where I sat down to specifically listen to music, and I couldn't be more happy that I did. I also totally wrote about this before, see? I could hear fingers sliding on strings and breaths being taken and sticks clicking and clacking around, and it made the experience all the better for it.

I've only seen these guys live once, but they put on a hell of a show. And they get awfully sweaty. If the band you're watching doesn't get sweaty, they aren't performing right. Demand a refund immediately.

My favourite song on the album was Aurora, followed closely by Eva. The rest was all badass too. Listen to it. Do it.

Here's the website. Check 'em out. They're pretty. http://heaviside.ca/.

Saturday 21 April 2012

100 Word Story - Airplane Edition

Hiya folks!

This one is for Adrian. He wanted science, omelettes, and a crashing plane. I think I delivered juuuust fine.


“Hmm, interesting,” he said to himself, as the flames twisted over his head. “It appears that they've used real cheese, and yet they've sunk to the level of artificial bacon chunks.” The flight attendant slid by on the floor, chasing her legs, leaving a thick meaty paste behind her. “Awful!” he exclaimed, slicing through the omellette and breaking his plastic knife. “These plastic utensils simply will not do.” The plane cracked in half, and the people poured out of it, into the open air at 20 000 feet. “My God!” he whispered. “An eggshell!”

Hopefully you enjoyed this silliness at least as much as I enjoyed writing it. (Ed. Note - I didn't enjoy it. Too much violence.) Welp, send me your ideas and whatnots, and I'll make them shorter and more ridiculous than they need to be.

-V

Wednesday 18 April 2012

100 Word Story - Mullet Edition

Hi everyone! Thanks for the wonderful facebook suggestions. I'll do one for each of them, I think, in time. For this instalment, I wrote about one Kurtis Mullet, and I hope you all enjoy it.


Kurtis Mullet is a bad kind of guy. His eyes glow, but for all the wrong reasons. He stomps and clomps, ruining the economy with every footfall. Women tremble at the sight of his ankles. They can't see much higher up than that, with the clouds and all. There's only one man that can stop him. He's the same size as you or I, but as strong as all of us. His power comes from within us, and Kurtis can tell from the way he uses his walk that he is Woman's Man, and he's got no time to talk.

Excellent! References from before I was born.

Ok, that's all. Please keep making whatevers, and I'll whatever them.


Monday 2 April 2012

100 Word Story - Owl Edition

Okay, here's another one for you guys. This one is courtesy of Carrie's wild mind. It's about a lonely hooter.


Armand is a noble man. He hums and haws on his accordion all day, supporting his family with coins thrown by tourists. Others say he shouldn't be proud of being a tourist attraction, but Armand doesn't mind. His friend Louis, the Screeching Owl, sits nearby, singing along with Armand's graceful notes. The tourists come for Armand's songs, but they leave when Louis starts to sing. His high-pitched screeches are poison to the ears of tourists, and a precursor to death for small rodents. “Louis,” says Armand, “You may have wings, but tonight, I think I must fly solo!”

Ah hah! Poor Louis.

Well, as always, give me ideas, and I'll make itty bitty stories out of 'em.

-V

Sunday 25 March 2012

A Million Stupid Bastards with A Million Guns!

It all starts with information.

Information makes the world move forward. It allows us to grow as human beings. It helps us plan for future events, and understand past ones. Information protects us from poor decisions, or shows us the outcome of these same decisions. Information is the soil from which ideas grow and blossom.

So more information is better, correct?

Of course not! We have more information than ever before, and it's so readily available that with little to no effort or financing on my part, I could download and print the world's news for the past week and distribute it to everyone in my nearby area. And I could post the link to all of it on this here blog, and facebook, and twitter, and all over the damn place. I could attempt to educate the world.

And I would fail miserably, because the world is full of stupids. And these stupids seemingly refuse to be educated.

The easy availability of information does not encourage folks to do research and understand issues that they feel passionate about. They simply have an easier time finding one (usually unreliable) source and bleeding it dry, copying and pasting and reposting the information that pops up first when they type two words into the Google.

I feel that the availability is directly leading to these problems. Before the internet and file sharing and wikipedia and all that jazz, if you wanted to know about something, you had to physically research it. This involved long hours in a library, flipping through books and reference materials and microfiche and cross-referencing and fact-checking and pulling all-nighters and such. And you wanted to cover all of your bases, because one disputed fact that you couldn't account for, and you were in for another night at the library. So you became well-educated in your chosen topic, and you made rational assumptions and reasonable concessions to refuted points.

Now, it takes little to no effort to shout one poorly-articulated point, and then flood your adversary's facebook wall with link after link to supposedly factual websites by people who probably did more work than you did.

I realize this isn't true for everyone, and there are plenty of people out there that do their research and understand something before they start talking about it. And there are people (like me) who may have wrong information, and may mention it to other folks, but we're willing to own up to mistakes and admit that sometimes we just don't have a clue what we're talking about. But these aren't the people I'm talking about. And the people I am talking about have a much bigger army.

There are millions of stupid bastards out there, and they're all armed with unlimited information. And they only need a little bit of it to drive you crazy.

Monday 19 March 2012

100 Word Story - Unicorn edition

So, I posted a thing on my Twitter, asking for a story idea. I would write it in exactly 100 words. I got fully one response. So, without further bull-hooey, here's a story for Brenna, in 100 words.


Chocolate cake is a rare commodity in the land of Rainbolivia. It is rich in nutrients vital to the wild unicorns that prance about the landscape, engaged in petty chicanery and gentle stabbing. The only obstacle standing in the way of these horned creatures are the machinations of the nefarious clownfish. He's a puddle-jumping monster, sneaking into the cakes and condemning them to disgusting flavour with his fishy scales. But there is one special unicorn. In his youth, he burned his taste buds on chocolate lave cake. He tastes nothing. He's got the fish in his cake. And he's hungry.

More to come. Send me ideas, I'll keep doing it, for reals.

V.

Wednesday 7 March 2012

Shuffle Repeat. Forever.

I'm thinking back to the days before music came in readily available online doodads, downloaded from whatsit sites using Gigs, or whatever.

I used to know every word to every song on Weird Al's Greatest Hits Volume 2. Don't laugh, it was the first CD I ever owned, and I listened to it a thousand million times. The words and melodies were ingrained into my subconscious, and when provided with the most subtle of cues, I could burst into song if the need should arise. When I had enough cash on me to buy my own CDs, I listened to them constantly, to the point of burning holes clear through the discs. I couldn't afford a ton at a time, so usually there were 3 or 4 in rotation. When they died, I would get new ones.

And I learned all of those songs too. I could recite the lyrics from any song at any time. I could sing the lyrics to from one to the rhythm of another.

I also learned to appreciate music this way. I discerned quickly what I liked, and what I didn't. There was no time for messing about with bands and songs I didn't want to hear, or that I heard once and enjoyed, but didn't consider it a long term thing. I learned that I didn't like listening to sad music when I was sad, because it made me feel worse. I like happy music most of the time, and angry music some of the time. And when I listened to CDs, I could choose the tunes that best fit my mood.

Fast-forward to 2010, when I finally got an iPod, and I started throwing all kinds of music on there. A little farther forward, and I figured out what a torrent was. And now, I have hundreds of songs on a constant, unending loop playing in my car. It's probably playing right now, with no one listening to it, and no one noticing one way or another.

My appreciation for the finer things in music waned. It became background noise, a generally ignored soundtrack. Some of the songs are my personal favourites. Some were downloaded on a whim. People gave me other ones. Most of them, I don't even care about, and I skip right through looking for the gold. As I download more, the odds of me finding something I want to actually hear diminish. It's something like a 1 in 20 chance that I hear what I feel like at that particular moment. When I was buying actual physical CDs, my odds were 19 in 20.

I'm not lambasting digital media, or the ability to rip off the record industry at an alarming rate, and jacking up the price of actual physical CDs. I'm just saying it's changed the way I listen to my music. I suppose I could turn off shuffle, and take it off repeat. I could pick an album on my iPod and roll like that for a while. But it's already on shuffle. And the next tune will probably be good. Well, maybe the next.

And shuffle. And repeat.

Monday 5 March 2012

New Title for a Book: "Do Not Disturb: I'm Reading, Ya Bastards!"

Sometimes, when I'm sitting alone, on a park bench, or in a coffee shop, or the break room at work, or on a plane, train, automobile, or anywhere that it is possible to sit, I'm accosted by a very strange person.

This person feels that a book is just a harmless pastime. They're not wrong. I'm not studying for a class or anything. I'm not deeply engrossed in philosophically pondering the repercussions of cybernetic parts implanted onto a human body. But I'm trying to be.

I have the urge to go to the places that these people call homes and walk in on them watching TV or doing word searches, or whatever it is they do with their time, and I'll start talking to them about how those are things that I don't do. I'll say, "Yeah, I was never really into the TV-watching thing. I mean, I don't have the attention span for it. I was more into books." I'll continue on in this fashion until they see how I feel.

Equally obnoxious are the people that sit down across from you and wait with expectant eyes, like I'm about to break into song or something for their benefit. I'm afraid they're expecting my act of reading to be a little more exciting than it's actually going to be. But I feel no shame, no regret. Reading is a personal act, and I'm doing it for me. If they want me to read out loud to them, all they have to do is ask. But they're probably not going to understand what's going on, and I'm definitely not starting over.

In RE: the title of this blog post, I feel that a banner should be placed along the top edge of any book, both front and back cover, that says "Do Not Disturb." Maybe then people will start getting the idea.