Category Archives: flat-sharing

Thrakbog vs. literature

Thrakbog: What do you mean, there is no magic in it? It is called “The Magic Mountain”!

She-human: It is indeed. But no magic, sorry.

Thrakbog: That’s cheating. Why? WHY?

She-human: That is actually a question a lot of people would like to ask the author.

Thrakbog: And?

She-human: He’s dead.

Thrakbog: So what? Get a necromancer and resurrect him.

She-human: Good god, no!

Thrakbog: I want to know why he called it The Magic Mountain when there is no bloody bit of magic in it! Not even a miserable wizard? An old hag? Any supernatural stuff would fucking do.

She-human: Language, Thrakbog, Language!

Thrakbog: Oh, piss off.

She-human: Would you like to sleep on the balcony for the next couple of weeks? It looks a lot like rain, I must say. But then again, orcs like to live rough, don’t they?

Thrakbog: Um, well …, alright, just tell me about that fu… pseudo-magic mountain-guy.

She-human: Well, the main character has some weird dreams.

Thrakbog: Oh, good. Juicy? Wild?

She-human: Strange would describe them more accurately.

Thrakbog: But strange is good, right? It could mean orcish in some way.

She-human: Um, no. I rather doubt that.

Thrakbog: Is there at least an old wizard’s tower on that mountain? Maybe he just deserted it and on his return the magic will be back too.

She-human: Your optimism does you credit but that is not going to happen. Actually there is a sanatorium on that mountain where people stay if they can’t breathe properly.

Thrakbog: You must be kidding.

She-human: I’m afraid not.

Thrakbog: So it’s shit! And no, I don’t mind my language at all!

She-human: You might have a point there. But it is a highly acclaimed novel.

Thrakbog: You mean like the teacup-fighting-soldiers-novel about Prick Darcy and dear Lizzy?

She-human: That had a lasting impression on you, hm?

Thrakbog: I’m still suffering from constipation after having swallowed it.

She-human: You really shouldn’t have done that. Books are for reading, not eating.

Thrakbog: Well, I’m definitely not reading or eating that fake magic thingy.

She-human: What would you like to read then?

Thrakbog: Must I really? I am an orc. It is so unnatural.

She-human: It was part of our agreement.

Thrakbog: Sticking to an agreement is rather unorcish as well.

She-human: Boo hoo.

Thrakbog: Alright, alright. So give me something gritty and grim.

She-human: So, Dickens it is.

Thrakbog: What the …?

She-human: Dickens. Exactly.

Thrakbog: Well, I hope it is at least short.

She-human:

___________________________

Of course we were discussing this famous drivel:

The_Magic_Mountain_(novel)_coverart

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The orcish side of blogging

Orc on a bottle

My human suggested that I should blog in a more conventional way but also revealing more of my orcish side. I do not need to tell you that she-human is full of those contradictions. And yet, I listened (partially) and did some research on what a proper blog should contain. Now I only need to fill it with the orcish spirit and that’s it then.

My research provided me with the following topics with which I might regale you over the course of the next couple of months. Perhaps you favor some over the others to read about? Let me know. So, here we go: Continue reading The orcish side of blogging

Hunt for the Onion Monster

My human has finally seen reason and gave up on this Alois guy (for now, she says). But instead of finally tending to my wishes she found something else to occupy her time: indoor gardening. Yes, she also has to do what she calls ‘work’, which from my point of view is no different to what she is doing the rest of day: computering. Or whatever you call that stuff. Me doing it right now, too. Hehe.

Anyway, she-human insists that we should be more eco-friendly. We had that before, remember? And how did that go? Don’t ask.Thrakbog cutting green onions But I finally saw a way to get her attention (I’m a sucker for my human’s attention, but I guess you figured that, right?): I help her with the green stuff.
Growing our own veggie stuff, is what she means by that. Producing lovely green orcs as offspring is what I would mean by growing green stuff, but never mind.

Myself being a wonderful shade of green I consider myself an expert on everything concerning that color. So, I joined in, cutting the giant plants. And in order to make it more fun I pretend there is a monster hiding in the green onions. That reminded me of the time when I went into the giant chives in order to get the monstrous fluffy spider. That was outdoor fun, now we’re indoors. Winter is coming. Again. I became rather fond of central heating I have to admit. Pretending to hunt the green onion monster was fun, at least for a bit. I moved very silently through the green jungle on the window sill….

And guess what? There it is. A green onion monster, I mean. Thrakbog in a heap of onionsMe. Muahahar. Pathetic? Yeah, well…, it is hard to be the only monster of my kind. I feel lonely, but does my human care? Well, she does, to be honest, but not nearly enough for my liking. Human monsters are so weird in their monstrosity that I can’t even tell them apart from the more friendly specimens of the species. So I stick to my human and her weird ideas about eco-orcs and orcish gardening. Or something like that.

Thrakbog cutting an eggNow I will prepare her breakfast. My fellow orcs must never know that I am so docile. Shut up, you.

What does he have that I don’t?

I am jealous. I’d say I am green with envy, but that would be an insult to my beautiful green skin. So, what happened? Gather round, folks, and hear me complain (again).

My human has found some other creature to occupy her time. But of all possible species why did she have to choose a troll? A dwarf would have been embarrassing, an elf would certainly have been ridiculous. But a troll? How humiliating is that? Let me tell you about this Alois guy.
Continue reading What does he have that I don’t?

Fennel? Must be aliens then.

My human is highly disturbed (and disturbing).

Right, you might say, that is not entirely new information. But in her defense I have to add that I find what happened today mildly disturbing myself. Gather round, lads and lasses, and hear me out.

My human hates fennel. She finds it so disgusting, that even the smell of fennel tea almost makes her vomit. She has told me so in no uncertain terms more than once, because I quite like it and was banned to the balcony whenever I merely suggested we might have a cuppa.

Today I caught her drinking fennel tea.

Asked WTF?, she looked at me with utter horror in her eyes, knowing immediately what I meant. She could not believe it herself. Not only did she NOT vomit, but she rather enjoyed the taste. Devastated, she assumed that the previous night she must have been abducted by aliens who probed her mind, sort of brain-washed her, to make her like fennel tea.

Personally I think my orcish charms finally worked on her and she secretly wants to please me. Although she would never openly admit that. She has commitment issues. Why she should be ashamed to have a relationship with a proper orc is beyond me. So, I let her believe it was fennel-aliens who did it. She is not someone to be gainsaid. I learned that the hard (cold/wet) way, spending endless hours/days on the balcony for various reasons.

Next, I will put my orcish charms to even better use: will make her like roasted rat breast on toast with hot sauce. And a slice of fennel. Hehe.