The fabled woods of Nor are usually filled with the chirping of birds this time of year. Yet in the clearing near the Tree of Infinite Truths, no creature dare stir. Sitting upon the roots of the aged elm sits the Tree Guardian, a powerful dimension traveler, the wrinkles of his years resembling the sacred bark he rests his back against. Nature itself respects the elder’s meditation.
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Let’s face it; people are getting lazier all the time. Everyone knows it, especially your grandpa who used to walk to school in the snow every day and blah blah blah derpy derpy doo and so forth. And in no aspect of our lives is this more apparent than in the way we get our food. Observe: We meet our heroes, Lord Sir Joseph St. John MacJasper KGC, Captain RN of the HMS Unbelieveblydifficulttosinknoreally ( we don’t see the name till the boat pulls out later, it is written in a wide arc above the aft windows), and Midshipman Louis C. B. Smith Jonesington as they enter the aforementioned ship via a gang plank flanked by Marines. From the Clunkline Future Affairs Correspondence Desk- March 9th, 2025 Christian Bale, 51, the disgraced ex-actor, has apparently sent himself back in time to halt production of Terminator: Salvation; the legendary 2009 flop that he feels is responsible for the destruction of his career. It’s time again for the Clunkline “columns from you guys” feature, where we give you, the reader, a chance to voice your opinion. Today’s guest column comes from Garth Q. Jennings in Dead Possum, Alabama, who dictated the following rant to one of our secretaries because he himself can’t type. Or spell. *** If Nuclear Weapons Are Outlawed, Only Outlaws Will Have Nuclear Weapons by Garth Q. Jennings Well, the government is at it again! Trying to infringe on my God-given right to carry a nuclear missile for self defense. And put “God-given right” in all caps. Wait, are you writing that down, too? Don’t write this part down, just the rest of it. No, I am not reviewing the Playstation RPG that people have been fawning over for years. Instead, I have obtained through my good friend J-tin a copy of the movie that takes place two years after the events in the game. I should preface this saying I knew about as much about Final Fantasy VII going into this as a blind man knows about the difference between red and blue. I’ve heard much about it, but have no real experience playing it. For that matter, the only Final Fantasy games I have played are a FFXII sequel and FFIII for the Nintendo DS. But I decided to see how this movie would hold against the standards of someone not enthralled by FFVII’s mystical aura. And quite frankly, it could have done better.
June 3, 3049 B.C. Today I tried making a ziggurat out of beef. The number of cows required for this undertaking cost an arm and a leg, which I supplied happily from my eldest daughter. Anu was pleased with my sacrifice, and the rains came, and the rains caused the cow-keeper to go inside, allowing me to steal his cows. Out of these, I built the ziggurat I mentioned before. It was stinky and did not stand well, and had more maggots than I am used to seeing in a house of the Gods. I wailed at the altar of Ki for several hours to make up for whatever failure it was that she was angry about. However, since the altar I wailed at was the one I had just built, the efficacy of my prayers is somewhat in doubt. The cowherd was annoyed as well, mostly because I left a rotting ziggurat in his field.
Having lived with my girlfriend-at-the-time for two and a half years, I came to take some of her possessions for granted. Then, one inappropriately bright and shining summer day, all of that stuff left my home and traveled to her new one, far away. Most of those possessions I was actually happier without, because most of it was stuff for which I had no use and for which we had no space to actually store. One among those things, though, was sorely missed after it was gone: The vacuum cleaner.
In late 2006, a money grubbing O.J. Simpson published a book entitled If I Did It, a totally hypothetical discussion of how O.J. would have killed his wife and Ronald Goldman. This book caused a firestorm of bad press and was tragically recalled before it reached stores. In O.J.’s memory, I wrote a tribute to him entitled If I Did It, a discussion of how I would have killed those two people. This book was also killed before reaching the shelves, but that might have had more to do with my poor penmanship and general aversion to personal hygiene. But seeing as O.J. is about to go to prison for the next ten years, I though it an appropriate time to pimp my forgotten masterpiece. |
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