Robin Hood Prime

I don’t mind being waylaid by highwaymen when journeying by carriage. I always carry a silk purse of the King’s coin on me, but there’s more where that came from, and I come away with both my life and a story.

But lately the highwaymen have been asking me to rate and review them saying “it helps the forest’s algorithm” and I must say, I’m at a loss. Where does everyone else stand on this question? And does anyone know anything about how to safely remove a crossbow quarrel from one’s leg?

The Signal: EP193

The Signal: EP193 – Exactly 45 minutes of spitting fire, alien jams beamed down to earth. This time out we’ve got hip hop, Japanese experimentation that is also somehow hip hop, reggae, French pop, rock and bass to break your face, snacks in the lobby, and much more!

Download by clicking on the link (or image) above. The file is available only for a limited time. If you’re interested in the tracklist, it’s in the mp3 itself, in the id3 tags. If you’d like to receive an email every time a new mix is posted, uh… ask me, I guess. If you don’t know how to ask me, maybe you should just keep visiting the site every once in awhile. Or follow me on bandcamp, you’ll see what I’m buying.

my amnesia guy

my buddy watts: i got so many regrets… so many things I want to forget

me: you don’t have an amnesia guy? i’ve got a guy. you want me to make an introduction?

my buddy watts: sounds like a plan

me [dialing my friend luce]: yo luce you still got that comically big hammer and impeccable aim?

luce: [the sound of reckless hammering]

it’s a journey

When I first logged into the internet, you had to fast for 48 hours, then drink a bitter tea that made you throw up. They’d roll you up next to a fire and behind your eyelids, the tumbling world, the bottomless sky and the the internet would talk to you.

It would tell you that your concerns were so small and the universe so large. It would tell you of a thing called a Bonzi Buddy (a kind of mechanical elf made of higher dimensions).

And you never wanted (or needed) to go online again.

brains are weird

It’s chilly in the home office today and while I was working away, the babble of language in my brain was puzzling out what to do about our general discomfort.

And I caught it being strange.

I had the thought “Might be time to—

♫ Plug in de space heater / MURDERA! ♫”

and that’s how I discovered that my brain is apparently still on the lookout for syllabic patterns that match “Here Comes the Hotstepper” by Ini Kamoze, a song that got lodged in my head almost 30 years ago.

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Categorized as Webloggery

The Signal: EP192

The Signal: EP192 – Exactly 45 minutes of music designed for the maimed but airborne, a soundtrack to accompany the rushing wind as it passes over your wings. This time out we’ve got cumbia, French garage rock, cyberpunk pop, Italian soundtrack music, a British safecracker who loves nitro, and more!

Download by clicking on the link (or image) above. The file is available only for a limited time. If you’re interested in the tracklist, it’s in the mp3 itself, in the id3 tags. If you’d like to receive an email every time a new mix is posted, uh… ask me, I guess. If you don’t know how to ask me, maybe you should just keep visiting the site every once in awhile. Or follow me on bandcamp, you’ll see what I’m buying.

stay safe out there

Please, this year for your RPG holiday parties, do not Drink a Yard of Dice out of a Glass Boot.

Yes, the various shapes will feel delightful dancing across your tongue and tumbling down your open throat, but the human body is a terrible dice tower.

nature is healing

Since reintroducing wolves to the American mall ecosystem, we’ve seen an amazing turnaround.

Foot Lockers are springing up near babbling brooks. B. Dalton’s erupt, selling paperbacks and providing warm dens for pups.

Do not drink from the fountain, there’s a dead elk in it.

thanksgiving

Looking forward to the holidays and baking my classic Hand Squash. It’s easy: wash the skin, put in the oven whole at 350 for 40 min. Then when it’s cool enough to touch, cut it open at the table to reveal a human hand inside, palm up.

Everyone at the feast gets to compare prints and palm lines to find out whose hand it matches and in the coming year, they will be Chosen By The Fields. But the real secret ingredient is to melt on more butter than feels safe, plus some cinnamon.