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Dr. Repose: The site's wanna-be author, professional jerk, monster who's dead on the inside, and semi-proud owner.

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The Joy of Statistics, Logistics and … Platypi

This site, well, doesn’t get many comments.   Page views seem fairly high though, and I suppose that tells me that at least someone is reading this nonsense, and that’s really good enough for me.   As Huxley states every now and then in the rotating quotes on the right, obscurity can only be cultivated in the dark.   Or at least something to that effect.

When I first created this site, it was much like… say, a rebound relationship.   My last website broke my heart, cut me to the bone, and made me want to pick up an acoustic guitar and write the world’s billionth love song.   So this was the first thing I made.   At first I wanted to name it Platitudes.com, for the precise reason that, unless I’m being extremely lazy in my writing, I sort of go out of my way to avoid platitudes.   You could even say that it was intended to be ironic which would have been sure to tickle the funny bones of any Gen-Xer that happened to be reading this.   As a side note to that, I  once cracked wise that the best way to get money out of those idiots is to just call things what they are, they seem to think saying something is what it is in a really droll voice makes it cutting and clever.  Ironic.  My brilliant idea was to make Gen-X clothing.   Hats that said, in small text ‘hat.’   Shoes that were in fact labeled ‘Shoe Brand Shoes.’   Expensive t-shirts that said ‘T-Shirt.’   You get the idea.  Of course, I couldn’t get the website name I wanted which sort of irritated me, so I got the Warden on Ventrilo along with another friend of mine in an attempt to coax a new name out of them since my first choice was taken.

Being the super useful Co-Admin he is the Warden cracked wise that Platitudes sounded a lot like, Platypuses.  You know, the ugly poisonous duckbeasts from that wasteland of humanity known as Australia, where everything is poisonous and will kill your ass.  Especially the music, Jet sucks.  So, the suggestion was to name the site, I shit you not… PlatitudePlatypus.com.   While not only is this a stupid suggestion, against my better judgment I said, ‘dude, who would think of something like that?’   Little did I realize that this is the damn internet.  It’s not a matter of who would think of something like that, it’s a matter of when. So I did a google search for ‘platitude.’  This lead me to an article on uncyclopedia.  What’s that you see in the right hand corner upon viewing the page?   A FUCKING PLATYPUS SPEAKING PLATITUDES!

Sometimes, I swear that god only decides to exist to mock me.

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Starship Rock 69 & 1/2 – Chapter 3

3

Wayward Son

Dudelicious looked over the ship’s command room, truly impressive. Sexy women handling all the flight controls and armed guards at all the doors. A wide window panned around the room in a large circle. He was standing on the command deck with Rockbring. Rocker 69 was on his way to the infirmary, so he was not present. Rock Whore had already began to undress Nurse Kiki and continued to … do things… to her on the ship’s command console.

“So youse wanted to lay some info-mation on me?”

Rockbring pressed a button on the command console that was right next to Rock Whore’s CENSORED. An image came up, of one of them tentacles and all. “Dudelicious, we’ve been looking for you for some time. It seems you’ve attracted their attention. You’ve done smuggling jobs for a lot of my men and agents, and your combat prowess is impressive. You see the band is both a front and our focus. We pull jobs all across the galaxy in order to find the great rift.”

“The great rift doesn’t exist, ya dig. I’ve been chasin’ that wild goose fo the past five years o my life. I’m tellin’ you, there’s no hint not even a rumor of where it could be. If that’s your goal then youse is jus’ wastin’ my time.”

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Flame Town Adventures