Wednesday, May 2, 2007

"Prelude to a Kiss" Part 2 - The Grifter

Just when you thought our friend's day couldn't get any worse...enjoy! Gym Class Blues Long and well traveled is the path to the bane of my school day. I glance ahead to see the masses enter the double doors as students and exit with a sadist's idea of uniformity. A good way to look at this was the fact that I could shed these pants that displayed the color of my boxer shorts to all who happened to look. On the other hand this was gym class and nothing good can come of this part of my day. Nothing. As I vengefully stuffed the traitorous pair of pants into my locker, I spied from the corner of my eye, three beastly goliaths being led around as though on a leash, by a fourth, more prominent figure. It was the jock squad. These four behemoths were responsible for the downfall of grace and civility during any class they happened to be enrolled in. Yes, there was no shortage of crude innuendos and fart jokes when these Neanderthals were around. Their leader was well built; almost Herculean to most of the student body. All he need do was flash a smile and faculty and females were at his beckon call. I loathed him for I had a special place in his daily routine. They approached me with a bit of a swagger. “Heard about English class today.” one said. “Did you?” I said. “Yup. nice going!”, another piped back. I returned the remark with a "Go-fuck-yourself" look. “Feh, see ya out there dork”. “Yah, yer ass is ours!” they remarked in unison. As they turned to go, I wanted to pummel them with a flurry of coarse remarks. I then realized that it would more than likely result in a savage beating. I held my tongue, and made my way to the coliseum where Caesar and his minions awaited this sacrifice. Casualties of War Coach Vermacher. His polo shirt and sport shorts were a constant reminder of how important it is to dress yourself with the aid of lights and a mirror. He stood at the front of row upon row of students that were to become his loyal followers or at least semi-descent athletes. He spoke as though channeling General Patton himself. “Listen up ladies! Today we will be doing something different. The Board of Physical Education says I need to test your reflexes and motor skills. So, that's exactly what I'm gonna do.” Just then, the Fuhrer's personal assistant rolled out a large cage on wheels. In it are what looked like medium, red, rubber spheres. As the cart came closer, I could make out some writing on one of the spheres. It simply said the word, VOIT. I began to tremble for fear of the worst. Could this be? Surely the gods weren't this cruel. Surely they had more than their fill of my torment. Then, he spoke those words. “Today, we'll be playing Dodge Ball. Divide up by class and go to your spots.” That sick bastard, I knew it. Oh the humanity of it all. This is the game that made bullies into legends and the weak into statistics. My head was reeling as I made my way to my designated encampment. I looked around at my team mates and those whom I would be buried with. The Chess team captain, the Debate Club president, and the head of the Captain Kirk fan guild were among the condemned. We haven't a chance, I thought. I offered up a prayer for my comrades as the first shot rang out. Like a swarm of bees, they flew from all directions. Red blurs all around me as droves of underclassmen littered the gym floor. I turned to seek shelter when I was staring down the path of a speeding red comet. Instinctively, I put my hands up to brace for the impact. I felt as my hand grasped the fiery object and stopped it dead. I had caught it. By some stroke of luck, I caught it. I opened my eyes to survey the carnage around me. I was surrounded by the upper-classmen. Not one lower-classman remained, save me. I looked in stunned silence as they look back with equal amazement. I had the chance of a lifetime to strike down one of their own. “What's it gonna be?” The coach snarled. I pulled the ball back over my shoulder as if I was going to throw the game ending strike of a no- hitter. I reared back, closed my eyes and fired with all my strength. I heard a metallic like thunk and a yelp followed by a thud. My target was hit. I opened my eyes to see the three Titans gathered around their master. I had hit the alpha male of the jock squad. He had left himself unguarded and my one ball struck his two balls with grim accuracy. I began to sweat profusely as they helped him to his feet. He was then handed a ball. He looked at me as though I'd killed his family and shot his dog. Someone came up to me; blind folded me and lit a cigarette. I stared in horror as he lined me up in his sights. The four horsemen, with an apocalypse in their eyes, reared back and fired their angry, red spheres at me. I awoke in a daze. The faint memories were being blocked by a dull throb. I looked up in a fog a saw a heavenly apparition. “You okay?” I could say nothing. “Here, put this on your eye.” Still, no words. The fog grew thicker and colder, then black.

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Monday, April 30, 2007

Rewinding to Buy Time

Greetings dear friends and fellow constituents. I hope all is well. Let's get down to business shall we? I am currently writing the finale to my long traveled epic, "What Dreams May Come". However, I still need to post like a good little boy. At least more often than once a week as pointed out to me by my dear friend, Edge. So, in an effort to keep your pallets moistened for the big finale, I want to re-release an old story of mine a segment at a time. I wrote this a little over a year ago, when I first came to The O and is one of my favorites. I hope it becomes one of yours. Here's part one. A Prelude to a Kiss Cold and wet. That's the best way to explain this day. Walking home in the rain and wind is the just the perfect ending to a perfect day. Don't you love how sarcasm comes in many forms? This is just one. As I walk home, I think to myself how much worse this day could get. Then it hits me. No, not anything profound or enlightening. Just a huge wave of rain water kicked up by a passing truck. A garbage truck. Welcome to what was my day. The planets weren't lined up right; Hell wasn't serving up rocket pops or banana splits. No, no; that would be an act of madness. Did I get a damn thing right today? Not on your life. Allow me to explain this culmination of extremely unfortunate and irritating events. Top O' the Morning Well, to start things off, I took a cold shower. I don't like cold showers. The knob had come off in my hand while adjusting the temperature. I thought, well, I've got to shower. I did. It was cold. I was not amused; clean, but definitely not amused. Brushing my teeth was no small task either. I was completely out of my toothpaste. I had only one choice. That was to use my little sister’s Barbie sparkle toothpaste. Again, not amused. After rinsing all of the glitter and bubble gum taste out of my mouth, I proceeded to my room to finish getting dressed. Much to my dismay, the only uniform pants I had to wear happened to be the one pair that fit a bit too tightly. It was too late to find an alternate solution, so I put them on. As I reached for my shirt in the dark, I felt something wet on my shirt pocket. I had left my lucky pen in my shirt pocket and it had begun to leak; a lot. Glancing at the clock, I had just a few minutes to finish getting dressed, grab my books and bolt for the bus. That is, if the bus was picking me up at twelve a.m. As if my morning couldn't suck anymore, my clock was flashing 12 am and had been since the last time I saw it. I grabbed my watch and looked. Instead of having ten minutes to go, I was ten minutes late. It was at this time that I came to the realization that I would be walking to school in the most ill-fitting of pants, a shirt with a blue ink stain and now my uniform coat wouldn't zip. I thought to myself, this couldn't possibly get worse. I should stop thinking that. Just in Time I was sweating and breathing heavily. My back pack weighed a metric ton and the strap was straining under the load. I had run about a third of the way to school, when the other strap broke. Fortunately, nothing fell out of my bag. Thanks to my zipper jamming on me when I closed my bag upon leaving the house. Oh yah, I was really looking forward to this day continuing. I made it in to class just as the bell rang. Upon reaching my desk, the remaining strap on my back pack gave way and fell from my back making a loud smack as it hit the ground. My zipper then decided to join in the fun and break open, releasing the contents of my bag onto the floor. Laughter and applause erupted as the catastrophe unfolded before my class mates. I was mortified. I was humiliated. I knelt down to pick up my school swag, when I noticed a pair of long, fair skinned, smooth as a baby's but, legs appear in front of me. I looked up and noticed that heaven was short one angel. It was her, the girl of my dreams. The girl I've had a crush on since the third grade when she pushed me off the monkey bars at recess. Oh, how love had smote me with its arrow. My face blushed a bit. Can I help you with that? Gah! She spoke to me. What should I do what should I say? Uh, o...okay. She knelt down and began picking up my books and papers from the floor. Any creature this beautiful shouldn't have to lift a delicate finger to help me. Oh, you unworthy swine. How dare you subject this fair maiden to such a request as this? Here ya go. I took the last bit of papers from her and set them on my desk. I turned to thank her and bumped her hand, knocking her pencil to the floor. Thinking chivalrous, I offered to pick it up for her to return the favor. It was then that my ill-fitting pants betrayed me in the worst possible way. I knelt to the floor in pursuit of her pencil when, as if in some horrible, slow-motion nightmare. The seem in my pants ripped exposing a three inch gash in the rear. Words could not describe the intense feeling of embarrassment. With red flushed cheeks, I handed the pencil back to her. With an equally red face she thanked me awkwardly and moved back to her seat. Me, I just sank into mine amidst the ever increasing laughter. Come one, come all, I thought. To the greatest show on earth. Here, now, the incredible shrinking boy. I was dying and it wasn't even eight- thirty yet.

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Thursday, April 26, 2007

Good Night - The Grifter (Reprise)

GoodNight A walk in the clouds. A view through those eyes A ride through the stars. As passions arise The touch of her hand, the sound of her voice The warmth of her breath An obvious choice. An evening so clear For perfection to best Arms to form cradles Where this one may rest. This night I have dreamt For time to stand still To speak out confessions Romances and thrills. Nothing to stop me No opportunity to miss The close of this evening With a warm summer's kiss.

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Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Farewell Days of My Youth - A Small Memoir

Have you ever gone back through an old year book or sifted through a box of keepsakes? Do you remember how you felt when you saw what was and how things were? You sort of look back fondly on all the good times you had. Slightly nudging at the bad times and trying to forget the embarrassing ones, as well. What brings me to this oasis of the past? I recently finished watching the third saga of the anime Robotech. It brought back so many fond memories of when I was a kid. I remembered during the summer of '85, my best friend and I would be glued to the TV at 4 o'clock in the each afternoon. We knew the theme by heart and never missed an episode. We loved to go to the dead-end street afterwards and act-out or favorite scenes. He would always be the evil arch nemesis and I would always play the brave young hero. He lived far away, but had an aunt and uncle that lived across the street. So every Summer, we would watch Robotech and then burst out of the house and jump into my Veratech Fighter as he clibed in his Zentradi Battle Pod, and wage combat on the unsuspecting world we created around us. We strived to achieve our goals for human survival in the face of a tyrannical enemy or complete annihilation of a pathetic race of weaklings. Making sure all the while that the battles would end as the street lights began to turn on. Our combat was finished for the day, but our war of attrition had many more chapters yet to be written. As we grew older and farther apart, I never forgot those days. Even now I still remember the way he would face me down, his gun barrels gleaming in the blazing sun. I lay there, on the brink of defeat, one solitary round left in the chamber of my rifle. Both our protoculture reserves deadly low. No hope at all that I would come home to my dearest. I'll always remember that smile he flashed as he pulled the trigger just as I did the same. Then a street light faintly glowed in the distant ending our stand-off. I'll never forget you, my friend. Even though, I've gone on to become the Captain of my own ship with my dearest by my side. You were lost to a war you never got to see to its conclusion. I will never forget you for you were a great friend and truly a remarkable and worthy adversary. Though you're gone now, I'll sit and wait patiently in my Veratech Fighter, ever vigilant. One day, I will see you in that great beyond. There, where the streetlights never come on and Summer never ends. For Eric 1978-1992

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Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Got my head in the clouds Got the music loud Walkin' big and proud I'm breakin' out of this shroud I got a little cash And I'm feelin' brash Got my foot on the gas And I'm lookin' to pass Gonna shine like a star Gonna burn bright as I can Not gonna care who’s watching Might as well go blind I’m gonna shine I’m runnin’ a new race Gonna set my own pace Just tired of the chase Lookin’ to put a smile across my face Wasting no time This day is already mine About to blow the doors right off Not about to stop Gonna make a difference No more same ol’ way Wanna make this my own Gonna seize the day

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Tuesday, April 10, 2007

Mindless Ramblings of an Eloquint Soul

On the Drawing Board: I've scrapped the Inuyasha project because I just wasn't happy with how he was coming out. Sorry to those of you that were patiently awaiting that little number. Instead, I'm going to embark on a new and fun venture. I want to combine old print ads from the 30's, 40's, and 50's with modern anime characters. I've got the first idea ready to sketch. I'm kind of excited to see how this will turn out. Grifter Learns A Lesson: It was brought to my attention by my good chum Darkangel, that there was a portion of a wallpaper that was used without permission. I immediately pulled it from the Otaku server and wrote an e-mail to the original artist. I informed him of the mistake and, after apologizing, I explained how the owner of the site in which I attained the image had removed his signature from it. He responded in kind and thanked me for my letter. After that he gave me permission to use his works so long as I gave the proper acknowledgments. I thanked him and re-posted the wallpaper today. You can find his 3D Gundam renderings in beautiful technicolor on his site at www.deviantart.com/sandrum. The least I can do is plug the man. Responses to the Last Post: I'm glad to see such a good response from you guys concerning my last post. Please know that I like to research the material for any editorials before I go on the rampage. Mind you that was tame, it still needed to be addressed. Know that I'm not here to judge or pick a fight with anyone. I just want to invoke your thoughts and voice. Too many people tip-toe around what needs to be said. I'm just a facilitator with a good heart. I love to see people succeed, not fail. So when I rip sites like this, it's not for a cheap bid at ratings or to fulfill a vendetta. It's just good ol' Grif raising something up the flag pole and seein' who salutes. So far it's 14 salutes and, fortunately, none of them used the single finger variety. Later all, Grif

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Wednesday, April 4, 2007

Abuse O' Power- New Wallpapers for All!

It get crazy as it approaches the end o' the year here at the law school. I say this as my back is up against the wall with end o' year deadlines and such. Therefore, I only have time to drop a quick line and try and visit some sites today and tonight. I submitted two wallpapers recently. This one features Ed and Winry. Hosted By theOtaku.com. This last one features the sassy little duet of Asuka and Rei. Hosted By theOtaku.com. Please enjoy with my compliments. Well, with that said, I'm out. I'll try to check back in later. I'm taking a couple o' days off. (Friday and Monday. Lord knows I need the rest. Later all, Grif

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Monday, April 2, 2007

Casting Votes: The Battle for Popularity

Throughout my time At The O, I've noticed a lot o' sites host different contests. Writing contests, banner contests, wallpaper contest, to name a few. None more so than the Battle Royal tournaments. These tournaments consist of our favorite anime characters from all types and genres of anime, duking it out for a mythical crown and title of most adored anime character. While these are all well and good, not to mention entertaining; there seems to be a census of those that know what they are doing and those that don't. Those that do have set aside rules and take the time to craft a quality product. These are hallmarked by thumbnails of the character across from their opponent with their names prominently displayed under their grimacing mug-shots. The craftier MC's place well written commentary before and/or after the bouts have transpired along with the results. This adds to the entertainment value and over-all experience. Unfortunately, with every good there is a bad. these are the contests that are rigged to make the site owner's name sake win the title or even worse. How bad can these get? In one instance, I observed a site owner create a contest to see if they should do on their upcoming weekend. If you have to poll to decide whether or not you should play an RPG on your 360 or watch 12 hours of dot/hack something, you have got more prominent issues. Then there is the person who half-asses the contest just to get people to show up and hit the site. There is no real relevance to the contest; merely an ad campaign to see whether or not you like their newest layout or song. These are the same people that sign guest book with the obligatory "Please stop by my site and sign my guest book" only to never be heard from again. The way I see it is there are three types of site owners: Those that enjoy what they do and don't really care about getting into the top 500. Those that only care about cracking the top list and pimp their sites like Head-On pimps their head ache roll-on. Then there are those that fire off a few poetic ramblings about being misunderstood and tortured and only post once every six months. How these people get the most hits is beyond even the most scholarly member of The O. The moral of the story, my friends, is this: If you're going to do a contest, take your time to develop the idea and make sure it's going to work before you even mention it. Otherwise, when you call your shot, it'll amount to nothing more than a dribbler back to the pitcher. (Pardon the baseball analogy, after all, it is opening day.) Go around The O and scope out the work of others. See how they do it and make improvements and tweaks to it so that it becomes your own. When it's finished, see what improvement you can do to make it better. I can think of no better example than Lordsesshomaru. Check out his site for a quality resource. Anyway, that's all for now. I hope this was more educational than editorial rant. Later all, Grif

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Tuesday, March 27, 2007

The Battle for Consistency

I've been at war with this concept for some time now. I have had issues with posting and commenting consistencies. This all started for me when I got a new boss at work. Before, when I first started this entertaining journey known as The Otaku, I had the freedom to post and comment from work. My work went on without suffering and I was able to be a regular contributor. However, now it seems that I have a heap more responsibility both at work and at home. I guess you could say that life is happening. I used to chat with Otaku friends on a daily basis as well as catch up on all the goings on in the world of Anime. Not to mention I could watch full episodes and series to my heart's content. Alas, those were the good ol' days. Now that I have a new boss, he has a tendency to drop by unannounced and and give me "meat-head" tasks to do. I dare say it gets old but then I realize, I'm at work and I shouldn't be screwing around....hey, stop laughing, you guys. So, I guess I should really just do my posting and commenting at home from now on. I just hope my battles will slow to a cease and I can get back to supporting you guys as well as keeping you entertained with my own brand of nonsense. Inuyasha should be finished today and posted by tomorrow *crosses fingers*. I've also thought about posting my friends work. He's a great anime/manga artist and I want you guys to see his work. He happens to be one of two o' the youth I mentor from my Wednesday night gig. He and his friend are very good artists and I try to encourage the heck out o' them to keep striving to be the best. So, hopefully, I can post some o' there stuff later on . Well, with all that said, I'll wrap this up and put a nice bow on it. Take care, Grif

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Monday, March 19, 2007

Back From The DeadZone

Man, I'm finally on the mend from my cold. That thing kicked my ass something fierce. In total, I ended up missing three days o' work as well as the first game o' the opening round o' play-offs with my hockey team. I've got to be really sick to miss a game o' hockey. Fortunately, I'm getting better as I'm in the middle stages of "cough and hack the lung butter up" phase o' the cold. Should be a fun and exciting time for me, yummy. For the past two weeks, Zealot and I have been teaching a friend of ours how to drive. She's had her permit for almost a year and has only been behind the wheel twice. She asked us if we would help in giving her the finer points on how to drive. We agreed without hesitation and made a standing appointment every Sunday afternoon. I've never taught someone to drive, so I'm trying to remember and apply all the things I've learned from my dad and my driving instructor as well as my own experiences. Now ol' Grif's been driving for almost 15 years, but I've had a lot o' driving jobs. I've been a parts runner, drove 20 and 40 foot box trucks, tractors, forklifts, not to mention my own cars and trucks. I suppose you could say that she's in very capable hands. She's got 4 more weeks of wheel time with me and Zealot, so I'll keep you guys posted. In these closing thoughts I'd like to ask for you to wish me luck. My hockey team was rather abysmal this season and we made the play-offs by the skin o' our butts. I have a game tonight/tomorrow night (depending on when you read this) and could use some luck. I know it takes skill and heart, but a bit o' luck never hurt, right? Take care all, and thanks! Grif

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