What my plan was when I created the ZOT

(and how I ended up) ^ | June 28, 2010 | Lord Dagon

[DagonofAlbion]

I deposit the Risk into the account of a dummy finance company for management, called the republican party.

Then, I deposit the damage into the account of a dummy corporation for control, called the democratic party.

I leave all the bible belt religions as spoilers, or third parties; putting them down as department store chains. To stave off the profit into the mints money burning facility, to insure that the money is worthless in terms of pragmatic value, and is only practical believed values.

And the Black market is pimped as bad but, even losing even your kindeys in a hotel bathtub on a drunk, is a value laundering scheme...

Thank you all for your input and participation!!!

[Tax-chick]

But watch out for Frank, who will bite you with his tooth and then throw up on you. He’s about 2 feet tall, with curly red hair, and he makes a noise like a dump truck backing up.

[Tax-chick]

I actually did know that, at some level, but it still drives me nuts! When I found him still lying here, he said he was “looking for shoes.” I found five pair on the floor of his room in as many seconds, but none were *the* shoes he was looking for. Is it Five O’Clock Somewhere yet?

That reminds me, I wanted to enter the drawing for the Jimmy Buffett vacation at Sirius.com!

[Monkey Face]

I’m wishing it were Five O’Clock here. *sigh*

Looks like I’ll have to walk to the 7-11 this morning while it’s cool.

[Tax-chick]

Unnngh.

The crack lawn service finally made it outdoors.

[Monkey Face]

YAY!!

[Darksheare]

Yes, getting run over by scrambling bipedal bunnies is somewhat embarrassing.
*cough*

Now where was I in writing those tales...
*rummage rummage*

[Tax-chick]

He never runs the edger, though.

Frank’s eating crayons again. I guess he thinks he’s a giant bipedal rabbit.

[Monkey Face]

*woof-woof*

[Monkey Face]

Somehow, crayons just never smelled good enough to taste. *blech*

[Darksheare]

It had only been six months since the entire incident with the gate and the hyperspace inhibitors, yet the rabbitoids seemed to have a faster sense of time flow than humans did.
To them, it was an eternity of abandonment.
They'd painted murals on the walls, and even cobbled together a kind of religion based on what history they knew.
He'd been thoroughly leaned on, chinned, and stared at by bipedal rabbits upon entering the facility several days ago.
They'd been shocked at seeing an uncovered human face as those sent to collect them had worn helmets and other things that were thoroughly terrifying to the rabbitoids.
The rabbitoid gave a triumphant mutter as the food unit hummed and produced kibble for the crow.
Scratches on the button said that the crow knew how to use it himself, he just preferred the larger creatures to operate it for him.
At the facility the rabbitoids were removed to, there was a constant chorus of “Bunny scared”, “I'm scared”, “Father! Help us!”, “Where's my bunny” and other more heartbreaking statements.
Here, the rabbitoids were happier if still mourning the loss of near three fourths of their numbers.
Something gnawed at his mind, some nagging...
Gut instinct?
The Inquisitor shook his head, something wasn't adding up.
He'd read the notes, logs, and data that he could find unencrypted in the site computers.
The rabbitoids that were here surely didn't represent anything approaching what had been achieved.
“Do you have a name? How old are you?” the Inquisitor noted that the rabbitoid twitched one ear and looked around as if someone might hear.
“I'm Jeremy TwitchEar of the TwitchEar clan.” the rabbitoid pursed its hands as if in prayer, half closed its eyes and began to recite:
“Longfoot the great leaper, HopNose the risk taker, QuickEye the far seeing, TwitchEar the all hearing. These are the four main families of bunny living here descended from those who were brought before,” Jeremy paused.
“The Longfoot were the first to stand tall, as they were lifted from all four feet and given hands with which to help the yoomans. HopNose were the first to learn not to eat things that were bad for them. The first HopNose was nibbling a wire over there,” Jeremy pointed to a large wire with blackened coating in the corner seemingly enshrined, “and Paw Lee told him not to do that, that he should only eat stuffs that was good for him. But the HopNose didn't listen and instead kicked Paw Lee away. In punishment for not listening to the appointed teacher, The One Over Us let the wire bite the HopNose who ran down the corridor yelling ‘Hop! Nose! Hop! Nose!’ and so the first HopNose was named.”
Jeremy continued to recite the origins of the families, “The QuickEyes were the first to see different things from all the other bunnies, colors, shapes, and words. And the TwitchEars were the first to hear things the others couldn't hear.”
He twitched his ears as if listening to something, the Inquisitor had noted that the rabbitoid had been doing that for awhile.
“How old are you?”
Jeremy stood proudly, “I'm five years old!”
He was floored, he'd been speaking to a six foot tall five year old.
But,. the data mentioned older rabbitoids that were far more advanced.
“Are there any adults still here, may I speak to them?”
“I'm not sure I can talk about that.” Jeremy spoke clearly except for occaisional sounds of f’s h’s or s sounds interspersed in the words, due mainly to the shape of his mouth and the thick solidity that was his cheek structure.
The Inquisitor finally understood why he'd been grabbed and nuzzled when he'd entered the facility, adult contact was in short supply, adult human contact especially.
He took his leave of Jeremy and wandered back to the room he'd been staying in, slid into a chair and stared at the terminal in front of him.
Down the hall, Jeremy continued to investigate the crow and the food dispenser.
“Rough day at the office?” said a voice from behind him, this voice held a marked peculiar focus to it.
“Somewhat. I just discovered that I've been speaking to a bunch of kids that were left behind without supervision.”
“Not completely without supervision.” the paw came from over his shoulder and picked up an interface pad.
He turned to look at yet another six foot tall rabbit, but this one had a mop of scruffy hair topping the space between his ears, sideburns, and a full goatee instead of whiskers.
The contrast with the base coat color was striking.
“Yeah, it does get troublesome to tend to.” said the rabbitoid as he tugged gently on his chin scruff.
“I. I don't rightly know where to begin, now that I've found what I'm looking for.” the Inquisitor said plainly.
“That's alright, I've given some thought to where I want to begin.” the rabbitoid pulled over a chair, sat down, and stared at him intently.
“Let's begin with: Where did they take the rest of my family and our father? And how do we get them back?”
This wasn't going to be easy.

[Darksheare]

Has he started chinning stuff to mark it as his?

[Tax-chick]

No, but he leaves his teeth-marks!

I went outside to put a note in the mailbox, and it is officially Hot Out There!

[Darksheare]

Ah yes, chewing.
At least he doesn’t try to dig through the floor.

[sionnsar]

I'd settle for 4 PM here. Got in to find my office was locked (and I don't have the key). It's the former HR office, which is why it has a lock.

Long day of email ahead. *\:^(

[Tax-chick]

No, that’s true. James is the one who digs.

[Monkey Face]

As I suspected, it’s Monday.
I kept trying to send a reply to a text message I got this morning and it just wouldn’t go. So I called the number. I was greeted by Cricket.com, saying my account had been suspended.

Au contraire! she says. I tried to pay the bill online last week, but Cricket wouldn’t accept it. So I mailed a money order on the 3rd, the bill being due on the 6th. *sigh*

I just emailed them and gave them the info about the MO, and all I can do now is wait. Is it 5:00, yet?

In other news, the place that sent me the part is going to send me another one, and in the meantime, they have sent me a return label. If this “new” part doesn’t work, they will refund my money. I sure hope my mechanic gets off his crutches soon.

I had to borrow some metric tools (ratchet and sockets) to get the bolts off, but as it is warming up, now, and the shade is heading to the other side of the truck, I’ll go out early in the morning and take the replacement off to be picked up by UPS.

If I ever told anyone I had a boring life, I’m sincerely sorry I lied so blatantly.

:o|

[Tax-chick]

I’ve officially declared it Early Restorative Hour, since Frank is refusing to nap. On the plus side, this means he’s feeling okay. He’s following Pat around, making the enraged-circular-saw noise every time Pat picks up a toy.

The AmVets truck came by this morning and took a box of Stuff I’d sorted. Saved me a trip to The Salvation Army, with its attending risks of buying more Stuff!

[Monkey Face]

I’m glad you made the Declaration of Early Restorative, since I would have broken the law, otherwise. I walked down to the 7-11 (2-1/2 blocks from here) and that was fairly good, as it was still cool. However, coming home is uphill and now I need to put ice on my k-nee again. *sigh*

Oooooohhhh! Salvation Army Store sounds a lot like Savers. I love to go there, but what do I need that fills up the cab of my truck???

I try not to go there.

[Tax-chick]

Everything you buy, you have to put someplace.

I’m going to try getting Frank to bed again. He’s whiny.

[Monkey Face]

Which is why I try not to buy. I have enough things in storage. (Mostly holiday decorations)

I was waiting for the mail man, but it looks like Substitute Day, so I won’t have time to watch the movie and get it out in the afternoon pick-up. So I’ll wait till I’m done with the truck in the morning, and watch the movie then.

Maybe on Wednesday, I’ll get another two loads of clothes washed. (No help for a couple of months.)