:: Greebert ::

Tuesday, October 01, 2002

Walking home yesterday, I was distracted and detached. Stars and cylinders siphoned my already scarce attention away from the ever-important act of balanced bipedal motion.

I tripped and fell towards the concrete. Teeth popped, organs crumpled, and the marrow exploded from my bones. My gelatinous form slithered towards the curb and made its way down a drainage pipe. It was dark. Soon the small pink lanterns of the underworld illuminated the path before me. Before I could creep half a mile, the silk-clad caretakers descended upon me and dragged me the rest of the way. I managed to pick up some of their conversation.

"..totally mangled"

"Mind transference could... if he's not too..."

"...the question. Far too much..."

"I read about that, but... glue, nor do we have enough augers."

My knees hurt most of all. I couldn't even feel my head. Soon, I lost consciousness from the hemorrhaging. When I awoke, I felt infinitely better. I looked around to see I was convalescing in a dimly lit room, filled with maps of ancient sailing routes along dependable oceanic wind currents. I soon discovered I could move freely. My body had not only been repaired but enhanced. Several extra appendages had been attached. One consisted of an arm-like structure terminating in an oversized ocarina.

I began to play.

My euphonious sound echoed throughout the chamber. Continuing to play, I ran through the door, into the hallway, and out the clearly labeled exit (one has to mind the fire codes, no matter what one does for a living). I burst forth into the sweet sunlight. I found myself in the middle of a meadow.

And that's the story of how I became the greatest pole-vaulter of all time.

Posted by morland @ 05:29 PM

:: Comments ::

meadows, that does remid me quite vividly of yesterday.

there was a war...looming. one side, covered with vast mountain chains that undulated far. the other (my side) grew ankle high grass and short hills separated by miles. a small, furious crik divided the two. "mountain" spies crossed the crik onto our (hayless) "meadow". it was up to me to stop them. so armed with a protective funnel, i threw "adam" "weinberg" down with an ankle trip and sucked the consciousness out of his body.

Posted by: mikeyH on October 1, 2002 09:04 PM

my first visit to the site. Though I haven't the time to read every entry, it's good to know Merlin is doing well and using this as an outlet for his creative intellect. I have decided I too would like to have friends read little blurbs of mine daily. So ...I sent everyone I know this website and am just telling them to ignore everything else and go to the comments section to read about me and whatever topic I choose to tackle that day.Thanks for giving me the chance to do this. In closing I have these questions:

1. are you dressing with color yet?

2. is Conan's head as big as it looks on t.v.?

3. when are you coming to STL to pick up your stuff?

4. are you still the master of your dojo?

5. would you like to master mine?

alright, that's about it.

Posted by: the reeser on October 3, 2002 04:20 PM

Yeah, that's a good question. There was a time when Morland sed to wear only green shirts, especially on Thursdays, if you get my meaning. And I think you do.

Posted by: josh from denver on October 4, 2002 10:19 AM

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