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?
Hm, I thought you would be bigger. Also, your outfit looks a bit dull and impractical, Darthy. You sure you want to keep it?
By the way, ‘Darthy’ sounds a lot like ‘Dorothy’. Hell of a name for an evil overlord.
Vader? Like short for ‘invader’? Yeah, good start, Darthy. Short you are, so why not your name as well? Good thinking.
Oh, you might want to do something about your breathing. Sounds terribly unhealthy.
Let’s cheer the trooper a bit, shall we? I heard about this mission…
…or as my human put it: mimimi!
Already you begin to see the problem, right?
Yes. I feel neglected.
Lately, my human spends most of her time learning stuff about social networks. When I told her, that I could teach her everything there is to know about it she laughed hysterically. Apparently I have just scratched the iceberg. But I’m not sure whether that iceberg is my human or the amount of knowledge about social media one could gain. How any of this could possibly be related to icebergs at all quite excapes me.
Still, I feel neglected.
I went outside and tried to find pleasure in doing orcish things. For a while it worked, I played capture-the-flag. There’s a lot of flags around here, all sorts of flags. Some with black, red and golden stripes, others with a strange blue emblem on a white background (she-human says it’s the flag of the local football (i.e. soccer) team, the Arminia). That tribe seems to be a bit more fun than the average human. When I took down the black-red-golden flags, no one bothered. But with the blue-white one it got better: some guys tried to stop me, even ran after me. Only when I showed them my impressive… (I leave it to your imagination what it was that impressed them, hehe), did they stop coming after me, Now I have a nice little collection of flags. It was entertaining for a bit, but not for very long.
So, I still feel neglected.
When I look down from the balcony of my human’s flat I see a few cats. They live in my neigbourhood. And I am not allowed to hunt them. They know that. So, they look up to me standing there, and I can definitely spot an evil grin on their face.
Now I feel humiliated.
Don’t you think that ‘mimimi’ is a rather harmless and civilized reaction to all this? Next, they’ll tell me I have to pay taxes…
P.S. She-human says that there is indeed a tax called ‘Vergnuegungssteuer’. You are taxed for having some fun. Could anything be more depressing?
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.
There’s a creature living in the attic.
I wonder how many stories start like that.
Anyway, in this case my human keeps whining and complaining about the hell of a noise said creature makes at night, as it apparently lives above her room called bed. And no, I am not that creature.
For once I tried to be helpful and offered to hunt it down. To be honest I also longed for a bit of an adventure and a monster in the attic seemed to be just the thing. To my utter surprise she-human said it’s not allowed. She assumed that it is a weasel-like animal, dormouse, whatever. So, no monster at all, just a snack between proper meals. She also mentioned that these species are under protection, meaning no hunting at all.
You see, this is what I don’t get about humans. You complain about one single dormouse in the attic but insist on protecting its life. On the other hand you seem to do whatever it takes to kill kill kill, animals, humans, time, each other. I don’t get it. If enough humans are killed will the rest be put under protection as well?
Also, my human. I mean… She obviously loves to watch really gruesome stuff on this telly-device. Bloody and gory (you don’t hear me complaining) murder and horror (still not complaining) but a single dormouse or weasel in the attic is upsetting her. So I asked if the creature was still under protection if it would somehow manage to get into the flat. The murderous look I got was priceless. Protection ends at the door obviously. I consider swapping places with the dormouse. It can have my place on the balcony (yes, I was banned to the balcony as my sleeping place. Where are all the activists to demand species-appropriate husbandry for ME?) and I move to the attic. Party all night. Muahahar.