The Feathered Princess

Here’s another fractured fairy tale. I think that this one with transfer over to bardic circles well…because it’s short 🙂

The Feathered Princess

Once there was a fisherman. He was small, and greedy, lecherous and generally unpleasant. His nets were torn and frayed, and he was too lazy to repair them. He was not a very good fisherman.

One day he was leaving his boat after a meager day’s catch, when he saw a fair maiden bathing. Being lecherous and generally unpleasant, he hid in the bushes to watch. And he noticed that on the lake’s shore was cloak made of feathers.

The fisherman knew the legends, and he knew that this fair maiden was actually a swan princess. If he could steal the cloak, she would have to marry him and he’d have all the riches he could ever want, and being greedy, that was a lot. He crept forward, very sneakily, for he was lecherous and used to creeping sneakily, and grabbed the feathered cloak.

“Ha ha!” He cried. “I have your feathered cloak, Swan Princess! Now you must marry me, and all of your riches will be mine!”

The maiden slowly left the lake and walked toward the fisherman. Her steps were small, but she walked with purpose, her flaxen hair falling behind her. She raised her arms in the air, as if to embrace the fisherman, and ran to him.

Here comes my wealthy, beautiful…and also wealthy princess, the fisherman thought as he rubbed his greedy palms together. Look at how eager she is for me to hold her.

The maiden stopped in front of him. She let her arms fall to her side.

“What do you have to say to your husband and lord?”

The maiden looked him in the eye…and hissed

“What?”

She leaned in until her face was inches from his. “HONK!”

“What?”

“HONK!” She snapped her head forward, breaking the fisherman’s nose. “HONK!” She headbutted him again, flapping her arms as she attacked.

The fisherman had made a terrible mistake, for it was not a Swan Princess, but a Goose…a horrible, horrible goose. “No! This isn’t how it’s supposed to happen. You’re supposed to be my bri–”

The goose maiden honked again, and her call brought a flock of geese to her aid. It was a flurry of honking and pecking as they savaged the fisherman, who was now crying for mercy and for his mother.

When the fisherman was finally a bleeding, crumpled mess, the geese lined up one by one. Each of them took a possession of his: the first took his net and threw it in a tree. The second took an oar from his boat and waddled away. The third took a boot that had come off of him and swam off. And they continued until everything he had was gone. Then the Goose Maiden took back her cloak, kicked him once, and pushed his boat out to the center of the lake.

For she was a Goose. A horrible, horrible, goose.

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The Fly on the Wall: Another Weirdass Fable

The following was inspired by a huge fly that got into Katie’s apartment last night and pissed me off with its flyness and flyosity.

Once upon a time, there was a fly. He was not a sly fly, nor a cry fly. He was not my fly or your fly or anybody’s fly. He was Guy the Fly, just a simple fly in an unsimple world, a world where he could find no picnics to sample and faced all sorts of predators that wanted to predatize him with their predatory ways.

One day Guy was fleeing…no…flying…away from one of these predators when he saw with his hundred eyes a rectangular-shaped cave. It was cool in the cave, and Guy could see with his hundred eyes that there was raw chicken breast on a baking sheet in the kitchen. “What luck!” He buzzed. “I can eat a tiny bit of that chicken and there is nothing that will attack me. This is paradise!”

The cave closed shortly after Guy the Fly flew into it, but Guy was not perturbed. He had flown a long way before he saw the cave, and was not afraid of such odd occurrences. But when a giant, fleshy hand swatted at him, Guy went from unperturbed to very, very perturbed.

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Doggos (and Cattos) Explained

Happy Saturday (even though I’m writing this on Friday)!

My friends know that I’m obsessed with DoggoSpeak, so they send me doggo memes all the time. Closer to the truth is that I’m obsessed with language and how it evolves (even from Doge to Doggo in just a year or two!), but that’s a post for another time. Cat talk like the now mostly forgotten can haz cheezburger also gets me thinking. I mean, why do cats and dogs have such horrible grammar and spelling skills? It does me a bamboozle.

A friend sent me a Youtube link today, and I went down down down down down the rabbit (doggo) hole. Feast your eyes on THESE!

BUT WAIT! THERE’S MORE!!

Someone did this with cats too!!! This whole post is like the doggo/catto dictionary. Take that, Mister Webster!

 

This shitpost has been brought to you by: Weird Obsessions, Pet Love, and Too Much Cawfee!

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I Am My Turtle’s Slave

I’ve posted about Shelvin, my pet Eastern Painted Turtle and friend for 34 years (yes, I’ve had him since I was 6), but I don’t think that I’ve ever gotten into our disturbing dynamic. I thought that I was training him, but no, he was training me.

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Shelvin with a suncatcher covering him in a rainbow. The thing that looks like French Toast is his floating island.

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Wisdom From Cookie Monster

Every now and then I like to do a funny post with memes. Why? Because I think they’re neat-o 😉 I also (as you probably know by now) have an obsession with the Muppets.

I also think that memes are an effective way of getting a point across. People respond to them because they use both words and pictures, which connect to the mind in different ways. It’s similar to what I learned as a teacher, a concept called “differentiated instruction.” But I’m not going to talk about that today. Bring on Cookie Monster!

Note: I suspect that some of these came from Mitch Hedberg

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The Epic Doggo Bamboozle Post!

I love doggos.
There, I said it. Doggos dressed up as other things to bamboozle hoomans make me so happy that I could bork!

Btw, bork is the new bark. Get with it, people 🙂

So, in honor of doggos everywhere, here are some of my favorites. They are doing me a happy. Note: not all of these are bamboozles. Some are just awesome. 🙂

Also, I’m posting from my phone. Awesome.

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Hot dogs.

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And the finale. ..

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Silly baboozled hoomans

Oh, if you think you’d like flying dogs with your historical fantasy mysteries, check out my novel, ” The Watchmage of Old New York. It’s good, and I’m not bamboozling you.

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My Twitter Acct Was Hijacked (by me)

I tweet…a lot. I tweet to promote my books. I tweet to promote other people’s books. I belong to a group called Rave Reviews Book Club, where we retweet each others novels and blogs, etc. It’s a pretty cool group, and though it has a small membership fee, the increase in book sales is worth it.

But I’m not here to promote Rave Reviews. I’m here to talk about the evolution of my Twitter account.

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