Last night my human told me a story about a door-nail named Marlowe or Marley or something like that. For some reason she insisted that this door-nail was dead. Only a moment later said door-nail turned into a ghost. Yeah, whatever.
Also, it was called a Carol for some reason. Thankfully my human did not try to sing the whole story to me.
Anyway, this guy, Scrooge, who definitely was one of the more sensible humans, had a bit of a problem with ghosts. But instead of calling a wizard or warlock to get rid of them he just whined and complained. Typical.
The ghosts on the other hand seemed to be quite confused themselves. Instead of turning this guy into a whimpering heap of madness once and for all they brought him safely back home! Every. Single. Time.
In the end it was all merriment and pleasantness. There was some partying and feasting, alright, but come on! Where was the chaos and mayhem? All the fun they could have had! The only thing that sounded truly promising in the end was the bowl of smoking bishop. Looking very much forward to hearing more about that.
I came upon something very strange. Not for the first time, you say? Right. Must have to do with the fact that I’m still living with a human being. There’s always something strange to detect.
Recently my human made me participate in a game of crime and detection. She left me in no doubt that I was a complete disappointment to her when it came to solving the puzzle. First of all I did not see any reason why a murder needs to be solved at all. Dead person is dead. What’s the point?
Also, there were a lot of other passengers on the train, what about them? Alright, alright, it was part of the game to be the first to solve the riddle. But surely neither she nor you could seriously expect me to be that one?
Humans have a great weakness: the overwhelming need to know. This causes all sorts of problems as is easy to see. A question arises? They will not rest until they found an answer. And not any answer would do, oh no, it has to be the right answer.
That is – you might have guessed already – not the orcish way. Continue reading Criminal Orc
She-human convinced me to produce one of these 5-things-lists. The orcish way, naturally.
Here you go:
5 things you shouldn’t do when you stand eye (you) to broad chest (me) with an orc, (or else…):
- breathe (never a good idea within a 10-foot-radius)
- attack (rather self-explanatory, this one)
- yell (orcs have exceptionally good hearing, yelling will lead to the ‘or else…’-part)
- run (might be your only option to get away though. But you have to be really fast)
- talk a lot (patience is not our strong point)
These rules apply for all humans. My own personal she-human has to be more focussed on other things that have a lot to do with household stuff. this is not something she wants me to talk about. Perhaps I should have flushed the lavatory more often.
About the ‘or else…’-bit I can only say: use your imagination. Whatever you heard about orcs, it’s probably true.
Did you by any chance recognize that it is sunny outside? Summer in krautland is very unstable, I was told. I am a creature that used to live underground for millenia but I find myself adapting to daylight quite cheerfully. She-human on the other hand has never spend one day of her life underground, and yet she refuses to leave the house whenver it is more than an average 25° Celsius outside. If she has no choice she covers her skin with something called suntan lotion.
Well, naturally, I tried it.
First, I confused it with toothpaste, so I put it in my mouth. Instead of spitting it out I swallowed it. Tastes as shitty as it smells. Then I drenched myself in it. Now I stink. Sweet and sticky, that’s what I am now. And above all I have exposed myself to ridicule. Again. Will I ever learn?
You know the answer.
So, now I go outside, the sun is shining, I am trying to enjoy myself. But: I stink. Cats get out of my way (okay, they might have other motives to avoid me), bees find me enormously attractive, wherever I go, things stick to my skin. It’s disgusting. The only way to get rid of it will be by taking a bath, I’m afraid. I hate she-human. I really hate her.
The title holds true in so many ways. As in:
- Don’ think that I’m gone. I was just enjoying the sunny weather around here.
- Don’t think you could trust the human whose home you’ve occupied. It’s a difficult relationship to say the least.
- Don’t think at all. Makes a lot of things a lot easier. But that is something humans tend to forget. Which is somewhat confusing.
Anyway, I came to tell you about something that has struck my mind recently (which is in itself an occurrance of almost divine proportions):
It seems humans try to betray each other, which is one of their more admirable traits. In order to do so, they created something they call ‘secret service’. As is appears, they have lots of those.
Some of them are in fact so secret, that people seem to forget they exist at all. Different tribes have different services for secret purposes (the sausage people call theirs BND, others – which I have not met yet – call it NSA, she-human tells me there are a lot more). These services spy on each other, on other people in general, basically they collect data about everthing and everyone. She-human says it’s the sole purpose of these services.
This caused some kerfuffle (I really like that word).
The question is, why.
Leader of tribe kraut says it’s not nice to be spied upon by friends.
Next thing: kraut service did know about the spying and did it too.
Let me remind you of the sole purpose of these services. (Look it up above, I’m not repeating it here)
What’s the fuss all about? They did what they were supposed to do. Had the leader of krauts forgotten about it? Possibly. As I said, humans seem to forget a lot because they attempt to think so much. It’s overstraining the brain. The one real trick to effectively disable these services is very orcish indeed: don’t think. If you do not think anything, what is there to spy on? Surely these services have no interest in the stuff I do. If I am wrong and they do indeed spy on me, I say hi! Here’s what I do these days, in case you secret spy-humans care to know:
- hunt a cat and have a lengthy discussion about it with my human. Again.
- do some research on orc poo. Lengthy discussion etc, see above
- write on my scientific paper on the history of orcs
- yell at the device called telly
- blogging (even the least secret of all services should have found out about that, right?)
- tweeting (I’ve negletcted my little blue bird recently, though)
- being altogether annyoing and a real pain in the arse for my human (I have a reputation, you know!)
- reading orc erotica online (will blog about that soon)
Anything that is of interest to you spy-humans? Feel free to be secretive or servicable about it or whatever it is you usually do with the data you gather. But be aware that you alone have to deal with the damage these images do to your brains. Brings me back to the beginning: Don’t think.