>> Monday, December 28, 2009
>> Friday, December 25, 2009
>> Thursday, December 24, 2009
Gosh, I love this song.
>> Monday, December 21, 2009
Everyone's freaking out because she's "too young to handle the mental stress of being alone two years".
When no one would let her, Laura ran away and was about to set sail. Until the stupid adults found her and literally dragged her back home. Her lawyer, Peter De Lange, says she has enough experience.
I say YOU DON'T STOP SOMEONE WITH THAT MUCH AMBITION.
Laura's taking all the safety courses, she knows a boat like the back of her hand. Let her go! Let the girl accomplish her dream and prove this idiotic world that no matter what your age, you can do anything!
People say she's mental. I say she's got guts.
If that Dutch court doesn't have her on the ocean in five months, I bet you anything they're going to have a very angry Celtic Traveler.
And a very peeved Dutch girl.
The other video won't embed so click here.
>> Friday, December 18, 2009
>> Monday, December 14, 2009
Edit: Silly me. This post was published years after I read The Hobbit, and apparently I forgot that Elrond was in it.
>> Sunday, December 13, 2009
My favorite Christmas song of the season!
>> Saturday, December 12, 2009
>> Friday, December 11, 2009
>> Thursday, December 10, 2009
Tommy Coen's Christmas Eve - Frankie Gavin
>> Tuesday, December 8, 2009
If you haven't heard this song yet, you must've been living under a rock.:)
Anyway, I love it and I hope you do too.
>> Monday, December 7, 2009
>> Friday, December 4, 2009
O curse the name Mad Eyes,/Say woe to the day/When he tried to steal/Tears of all Oceans away./All corsairs and searats/Whose messmates lie dead,/Saw blood and hot flame/Turn the seas flowing red./Though northcoast lies far/And the ocean is wide,/Run from the green arrows/Of vengeance, and hide./For the price of six tears/Through the dreams of us all,/Walks the fear of a warrior/From the place called Redwall./Now the life of our Brethren/Who followed the sea,/Will ne’er be the same/For such rovers as we./‘Twas the greed of a tyrant/That brought us to shame,/Six tears for a crown--/Curse the emperor’s name!
"Dead and gone, no, gone to be dead,/ Following the crack that runs through his head."
"This is war! Cut 'er loose, Rocpaw, 'tis waaaaaar!"
"Run from me, hide from me,/ Still my shafts will find you./ All you vermin of the sea,/ I must bring swift death to./ Lutra's Holt has not yet gone,/ By my bow I swear it so,/ I alone will carry on,/ Wreaking vengeance where I go./ Run from me, hide from me,/ Hear my longbow singing,/ Grath of Lutra's family,/ Sleep to you is bringing."
"Golden guardian of my wealth,/ Hear me now, be still,/ Deathly fang and coiling stealth,/ Bend unto my will."
"Just you give the word when yer ready, an' I'll show ye the color of yer insides!"
"I’m the babe of a bloodripper,/Born in the teeth of a gale,/I’m the one who wields a sword,/An’ makes the foebeast wail./I’m as sharp as the reef rock,/I carry death in me paw,/Go were I like, slay who I will,/
That’s the corsairs law!/Blood’s me favorite color,/I’m swifter’n lightnin’ aye,/Stand out me way, stand out I say,/Step aside now, or die!/‘Cos I’m the spawn O’ nightstorm,/An’ death sails in me wake,/I sheath me blade in innards,/An’ what I want, I take!/Come one, come all, I’m waitin’,/I’ll flay your carcass bare,/So everyplace I go they’ll say,/“Ahoy, you bold corsaaaaiiiirrrrrr!"
The vermin laughed and cheered as he twiddled a tune on his melodeon, singing in a cracked baritone, "Would yer plunder from yer mother?/Yes I would, yes I would,/For me mother always said I was no good./I'm a searat bred an' born,/An' I'm sailin' in the morn,/Stan' aside, me lucky buckoes, let me go!/Cut me teeth upon a cutlass/Yes I did, yes I did,/An' me pore ole daddy ran away an' hid,/Sayin', "That's no child o' mine,/Let 'im sail across the brine,/Stan' aside now for the vermin, let 'im go!"/If there's plunder in the offin'/That's fer me, that's fer me,/An' I never charge, I'll kill you all for free,/Give me lots o' lovely loot,/An' a cask o' grog ter boot,/Up the anchor, loose the sails an' let me go!"
"Whether she sails on river or sea,/May the wind be always behind her,/May she always be welcomed by friends like me,/May the foebeast never find her./Let her crew hold the lives of each other dear,/And avoid every sharp rock or reef,/Good seasons and fates now listen and hear,/Keep this gallant Freebeast from all grief!"
"Of all the creatures in the land,/The sea or in the air,/Not one of 'em is half so grand,/Or as noble as a hare./A hare can jump, a hare can run,/He don't live down a hole,/In fact a hare's a lot more fun,/Than almost any mole./A hare's courageous and so brave,/Good-mannered and quite courtly,/Sometimes he's serious and grave,/But never fat, just portly./He never puts a footpaw wrong,/His disposition's sunny,/With ears so elegant and long,/Not stubby like a bunny./So sing his praises everywhere,/This creature bold, with charm to spare,/The one thing better than a hare,/Is two hares, that's a pair!"
"Hmph! Good job I'm polite an' withdrawn too, not like these otter types, brash common wallahs. Still, what can one expect of a creature with funny little ears an' a tail like a bally plank."
Craklyn whirled her bushy tail fiercely. "Aye, and when we do we'll stuff 'em down the throats of those scum who kidnapped our friends, one by one!" Friar Higgle crept smiling from the infirmary, murmuring, "Very nice for young abbeymaids, charmin'."
Unfolding it, she read aloud, "There is a warrior,/Where is a sword?/Peace did he bring,/The fighting Lord. /Shed for him is my fifth tear./Find it in the title here,/Written in but a single word,/And eye is an eye, until it is heard."
“There was an otter be a stream,/Come ringle dum o lady,/Who fell asleep and had a dream,/All on the bank so shady./He dreamt the stream was made of wine,/It flowed along so merry,/And when he drank it tasted fine,/Like plum and elderberry./And all the banks were made of cake,/Come ringle ding my dearie,/As nice as any cook could bake,/That otter felt quite cheery./He drank and ate with right good will,/Till wakened by his daughter./She said, ‘I hope you’ve had your fill,/Of mud and cold streamwater!’/Come ringle doo fol doodle day,/Come wisebeast or come witty,/A fool who dreams to dine that way,/Must waken to self-pity.”
"Oh, that's a great help. I thought you were going to tell us all something intelligent for a moment there!"
“If Sister Cicely serves some soup,/She’ll surely see some sup it,/Swig it swift, sure and slick,/Should it set stiff ‘n’slimy, then suck it./If Cicely suspects that such soup has been scorned,/She’ll slip slyly in and even the score,/So if Sister persists, woe to him that resists,/Cicely’s certain to serve him some more."
Baring his yellowed teeth, the searat spat on the ground. "I ain't talkin' to nobeast an' you can't make me!" With startling speed, Grath leaped over the fire, landed in a crouch facing Gowja and fixed him, eye to eye. Her voice was dangerous, like the growl of thunder on a far horizon. "Keep lookin' at me, scum, and don't dare blink! I am Grath Longfletch of Holt Lutra, the only one of my tribe left alive after yore kind visited my home. When I've eaten my vittles you'll talk t'me, in fact I'll wager you'll make a babblin' brook seem dumb by the time I'm finished with you!"
“Sad winds sweep the shores,/Near a place called Holt Lutra,/Where first I saw daylight the day I was born,/And lone seabirds call/O’er the grave of them all,/Whilst my tears mingle into the seas as I mourn./
For those Tears of all Oceans,/Six pearls like pink rosebuds,/Once plucked from the waters beneath the deep main,/Oh my father, oh my mother/Dear sisters and brothers,/In the gray light of dawn all my family were slain./They sailed in by nightdark,/Those cold heartless vermin,/Their pity as scant as a midwinter’s breath,/Then laughing and jeering/As slashing and spearing,/My kinfolk were slaughtered by wavescum to death./But there greatest mistake was,/They left Lutra’s daughter,/I swore then an oath that the seasons would show,/My Green arrows flying,/And seavermin dying,/Cursing with their last breath the swift song of my bow./So vengeance will drive me,/As long as my paw’s strong,/To sharpen a shaft and my bowstring to stretch,/The price vermin paid,/For six pearls in a raid,/Is that death bears the same name as I, Grath Longfletch.”
"Let the birds fly high before us,/An' our wake trail straight behind./When yore heart is yearnin' for it,/Home is not too hard to find./May our way be bright an' sunny,/Back to where the campfires burn,/There our friends an' families waitin',/For the warriors to return./Are the old ones happily livin'/An' the young ones tall an' grown?/We will soon see smilin' faces,/Of all those we've always known./Far we've travelled, long we've wandered,/Morn till night an' dusk to dawn,/But there's no place we'll rest easy,/Save the land where we were born."
>> Thursday, December 3, 2009
Yes! I was correct-Sean Bean IS playing Zeus.
Okay, some parts do look a bit odd and all, but it still looks good. Best line so far? "This is a pen."
>> Monday, November 30, 2009
>> Thursday, November 26, 2009
>> Monday, November 23, 2009
>> Thursday, November 19, 2009
>> Thursday, November 12, 2009
>> Wednesday, November 11, 2009
.Bad grammar on the characters' parts
>> Monday, November 9, 2009
>> Thursday, November 5, 2009
>> Monday, November 2, 2009
Why is it that night falls but day breaks?
If a store is open 24 hours, why are there locks on the door?
How do you get deer to cross at those yellow signs?
Do vegetarians eat animal crackers?
Aren't all mysteries unsolved?
What's the speed of dark?
Why do we have eyebrows?
Can fish drown?
Why is it called a black light if it's purple?
Do penguins have knees?
How fast does a zebra have to run before it looks grey?
Why do our feet smell and our noses run?
Who shuts the door when the bus driver gets off?
>> Saturday, October 31, 2009
>> Monday, October 26, 2009
I finally did.
It took all of Saturday to watch the first two (which are a good 4 hours each!) and I still haven't made it to The Return of the King. But it was everything I hoped for, with more action, songs, scenes, and more closley related to the book. But if you plan to watch it, here's a list of must-haves:
LOTR EXTENDED SURVIVAL KIT
1 lg bag Reees's
1 lg. bag M&M's
Ben & Jerry's
Paper and pencil for the taking of awesome notes
Large comfy pillows
A lot of time on your hands
Of course, there was new music (!) Is there a Extended soundtrack? I hope so. Anyhow, here are but a few of the extended edition songs.
>> Thursday, October 22, 2009
Picture by cybercatmania
"Well well, you're not short of nerve, mouse. What's your name?" The answer was loud and fearless. "I am called Martin, son of Luke the warrior!"
"I am a warrior! Martin son of Luke! I will live, I will not give in and die up here! Do you hear me, Badrang? I will live to take back my father's sword and slay you one day! Badraaaaaaaanngg!"
Felldoh sat listening to the soft snores of his companions. "Oh yes, let's think of something later," he chuckled lightly to himself. "How to sprout wings, and defeat Badrang and his horde with outside help from a mole and a mousemaid. By my brush, why didn't I think of those two good ideas before?"
"Silence, wot a lovely word."
"It'd sound better if you shut yer gob an' gave it a chance."
"Oh Grumm, you're a dear!" The mole made his way back to the tunnel, murmuring to cover his embarrassment, "Oi bain't no deer, oi be a mole, an' doant 'ee fergit it, mizzy!"
"Go to sleep, you filthy bunch. /I'd love to lay you all out with a punch. /How'd you win a mother's heart /With a squiggly trunk like an eel's back part? /Is that awful smell the reason? /You haven't washed all season. /So go to sleep in your scruffy beds. /May nightmares enter your beastly heads, /And when sunlight heralds new daybreak /May you wake with a tummy ache."
Felldoh was completely lost for words. He turned away from the cart and started breaking some driftwood up for the fire. Celadine dabbed at her brow with a dainty lace square. "Oh my, oh my. I'd be all season just trying to break one teensy piece of that wood with an axe, and look at you, sir, snapping it in those great paws of yours like it was dead grass!" Trefoil the other squirrelmaid unceremoniously bundled a pile of tunics at Celadine. "Here, missy, get your paws wet washing those through and leave that poor fellow alone before he turns into a beetroot!" The temptress flounced off in a huff, laden with dirty washing. Trefoil began snapping wood alongside Felldoh. "Take no notice of her, friend. I've seen her fluttering her eyelashes at dragonflies."
"Oi know lots o' things but oi doant know why oi knows 'em."
"The old earth gently turns as the seasons change / Slowly. /All the flowers and leaves born to wane. /Hear my song o'er the lea, like wind soft and /Lowly. /Oh, please come back to Noonvale again."
"Never. I would rather die!"
"Hoho, missy, that kin be arranged."
"Harr, the murderin' scoundrels, 'ooever they are."
Pallum could not resist doing a comical impression of the warden. Strutting stiff-legged, he glared at Grumm and spoke sharply. "I am the law. These are my marshes. I am the law!" Both the hedgehog and the mole burst into subdued chuckles. The warden turned and glared at them. "Make fun of the law, and I deal with you. I am the law!"
"He seems to know the country well enough." "Oh yes, and do you know why that is?" Martin smiled knowingly. Leaning close he whispered into Rose's ear so that the warden could not hear. "Because he is the law!"
"O fie on you, O great disgrace, /Look at that sad unhappy face, /I'll not walk with you, /Not one pace, /You're not the one I love."
"What can I say except, break a leg!" Felldoh looked puzzled until Ballaw explained. "In the actin' game it's our way of sayin' good luck to a chap." The baby Fuffle waved his wooden spoon. "Break bofe legs!" There was laughter and applause for the infant's wisdom.
"Yurr am oi, Malcumm, completely disgusted, /'Stead o' water oi bin drownded in custed!"
"You Rambling Rosehip Players, you seem to make a joke of everything. Don't you realize we're in the middle of a battle, fighting for our lives?" Ballaw patted his head with a bandaged paw. "What d'you want us to do then, laddie buck? Break down an' weep? Make the best of the situation, m'boy."
"Don't think about what you could have done, concentrate on what you plan to do; it is more useful."
"I'll just go back to buryin' yer dead an' wait fer you to turn up as a customer."
Rose stared at Martin; it was as if she were looking at a strange creature. He was still as a rock, the blood rising behind his eyes as his paw whitened with the furious grip he had on his sword handle. The blade rose above his head and fell in a straight line, pointing at Badrang's hated fortress. The horde went silent, staring up at the Warrior mouse, waiting as the word rolled from his lips like steel striking stone. "Chaaaarge!!!"
He was trying to force himself to stab and slay the foebeast when the rat whined out pleadingly, "It's me, matey, Wulpp. Don't kill me!" Brome gasped. It was Wulpp, the searat whose injured paw he had treated when, disguised as a corsair, he had gained entry to Marshank. Brome thrust the javelin into the sea close to Wulpp's neck. Leaning down, he muttered to the terrified rat, "Lie still. When we're gone take off south down the beach. I never want to see you again. Good luck!"
"I'm arf a stoat an' arf a mole, /An' I'll bury youse all in a nice deep 'ole, /Down, down where it's still an' cold, /An' y'never live to get old!"
"I was never in a war, is it always this complicated?" Rose shrugged as she twirled a sling. "Your guess is as good as mine, Pallum. I was never in one either!"
"But furr all seasons everybeast shall amember thoi name, Marthen 'ee wurrier!"
>> Monday, October 19, 2009
>> Thursday, October 15, 2009
This is from Michael Bublé's new CD.
Makes me laugh every time!
>> Saturday, October 10, 2009
So why has no one heard of it before?
Edit: This was after briefly seeing the film. After re-watching it, I discovered that Battle for Terra had far too many tree-hugger themes.
>> Monday, October 5, 2009
I half died laughing when I first saw these!
Gandalf the Chipmunk Dies
Lord of the Rings could have been shorter
>> Saturday, October 3, 2009
It was cold. But not as cold as the smile on the face of Ferahgo the Assassin.
"Oh, they're fierce fighters, sure enough, but they lack cunning and suffer from silly little things, like honor and conscience."
"Let's see if this vermin can die like a warrior!"
"I never done nothin', smartstoat, it was you!"
"Oh, stow the gab. It was both of us then. Does that make yer feel better?"
"You're an absolute bounder, Stinkee. D'you hear me? If I could get out of this confounded shrimp net I'd raise a blister on your noggin that wouldn't go down in a season!"
"But while there's life there's hope, eh. At least we'll be given food for awhile." "And then jolly well served up at a party." Pikkle gulped. "What a nice suprise. Makes a chap feel wanted, wot, wot?"
"Now you git t' sleep an' stop gabbin'."
"I go t' sleep now. G'night Mista Thugg."
"See you inna mornin'."
"Aye, now be quiet!"
"I quiet now. Dumble quiet."
"Well, I should 'ope you are!"
"Oh I are."
"Be quiet, d'you 'ear me. Be quiet!"
"Dumble quiet. You de one makin' alla noise, Mista Thugg."
Dumble's eyes widened, then he turned them ahead again, this time singing in a low urgent voice: "O Mista Thugg, don't turn around, /And don't you cause a fuss. /There's four ol' foxes wiv big sticks- /I fink they're followin' us!"
The foxes exchanged knowing smiles. One stepped forward. "Top o' the summer to ye, yer 'onner. What's in the 'avvysack?" Thrugg grinned cheerfully at the raggedy fox. "Four unconscious foxes with their tails chopped off who tried stealin' our vittles. Why do you ask?" "Hee hee, we've got a funny un 'ere, mates!" One of the foxes sniggered. Another fox drew his sword, testing the edge with his paw. "Yeh, wonder if 'e's tough as 'e's funny?" Thrugg twirled his sling ominously. "Why don't you come an' find out, mudface?" The first fox saw that the big otter was no easy proposition, so he adopted a whining tone. "Now be reasonable, friend. We're not lookin' fer trouble. You wouldn't begrudge four starvin' creatures a bite, would yer?" Thrugg took a step toward him. "Begrudge a starvin' creature a bite? Not me, matey. You come 'ere an' I'll bite you anytime."
"Ye've got a lot to learn, laddie. There's no magic in any weapon. That sword may be used for good or evil; it all depends on the creature who wields it."
"A paddle's me son an' a boat's me wife, /An' the open water is me life."
Forgrin pawed the blade of his sword, grinning at the rat. "I've sent many a beast to sleep wi' this liddle beauty. None of them ever woke up."
"Now what happens, do you kill a weasel, or do I kill a fox?" Terror had robbed Forgrin of his power of speech. A gurgling noise escaped his throat as he turned and ran along the beach. Ferahgo could throw a knife better than any creature. The long skinning knife took Forgrin between the shoulder blades before he had got thirty paces. His eyes were glazing over for the last time as the Assassin retrieved the knife. "Oh, I forgot to tell you," Ferahgo whispered close to his ear, "this game ends with the weasel killing the fox. Sweet dreams, Forgrin."
"You'm a mad ol' feller, but you'm moi best matey."
"So you don't want to be slain by murderers, eh?" Urthstripe roared with laughter as he went after the Assassin.
The sounds of yelling, chanting vermin stamping about inside the mountain was growing louder. Big Oxeye threw a paw around Lingfur's trembling shoulders and chuckled. "Noisy old lot, aren't they?"
"Goo on, Sanken, urr hurr. Make Redwall proud of 'ee!"
"We'm not behoind 'ee, young un. Us'ns are with 'ee!" Oxeye stifled a laugh as he shook paws with the molemaid. "Well, thank goodness for that. I'd hate to face a warrior like you, young molemaid." Arula wrinkled her nose. "Thankee koindly, zurr."
Flourishing the hat elegantly, Thrugg kissed his sister's paws affectionately, declaring aloud, tongue in cheek, to the whole of Redwall: "You was never out o' my thoughts, sister dear, an' all the time I was freezin' in the mountains, battlin' crows an' livin' lower than a lame toad, there was one question that I made me way back here to ask yer." Thruggan sniffed slightly, and asked in an apologetically tender voice, "What was that, brother o' mine?"
"What's fer tea? Me an' me mates is fair famished!" The four falcons joined the crowd of Redwallers who had flooded out to greet them, laughing uproariously as they watched Thrugg fleeing across the abbey grounds with Thruggan hard on his heels, swinging a twig broom. "You bottlenosed rogue, I'll give yer tea. You'll get a taste of this when I catch up with ye!"
"Heroes, Samkin-we were never short of them: Thrugg, little Dumble, Arula and yourself, brave creatures all! What more could an old one like me desire than to rest here with Redwallers enjoying themselves in good health, peace and happiness..."
>> Thursday, October 1, 2009
>> Saturday, September 26, 2009
Not only that, but Newline has been kicked out of the whole entire ruddy picture by Walden Media!
Now, I love the book, love Tolkien, but I do not believe Guillermo del Toro can portray Tolkien's or Middle-eath's genuis.
Sorry, del Toro, but I'm sticking with PJ on this one.