Tag Archives: random blogging

5 things you shouldn’t do when you stand eye to broad chest with an 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.

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Random blogging – or: how do they know?

In my last post I announced to write something about orc erotica. My human suggested to try something else first, in order to provide less disgusting content. I don’t see what’s wrong about being disgusting, I am an orc after all. But here we go (the juicy stuff is only postponed, trust me).
So, in order to find something more blog-worthy I used a topic generator. I had to add three words into it and it would provide me with five new and interesting topics. So far so good. Naturally I used the following three words:

orcs – cats – hunger

And these are the topics the generator suggested to blog about:

1. What will orcs be like in a 100 years?
2. Why we love cats (and you should, too).
3. 10 quick tips about hunger.
4. 20 myths about orcs.
5. 10 signs you should invest in cats.

Isn’t it great? Of course my human complained that I should have used other words, something more sensible. You know, sometimes I wonder if she is fully aware of who/what I am.
I did spent an unreasonable amount of time playing with the generator, I can only recommend it, it’s great fun.
To actually write about the above mentioned topics proved to be far more difficult, as you might have expected. To be honest, I don’t think I could answer the question about orc development in the next hundred years, mostly because I have no idea how much a hundred really is.
To be advised to love cats, well, nothing so easy. To write about it…, hm. What could I say that wouldn’t upset my human again?
Topic No 3 correlates a lot with the cat loving theme, but I can already see the blood pressure rising on she-humans face.
To blog about orc myths is a very nice suggestion but I am already working on my book about orcs, so I shouldn’t get ahead of myself there.
Which leaves topic No 5. Is it a coincidence that they mention 10 tips about hunger and then ask for 10 signs to invest in cats? I don’t think so.
But I believe my human is already on her way to take away my writing device (it’s her’s, to be honest), so this has to wait for another occasion. Or never.

Introduction

I’m blogging.
Why am I doing this?
The hell I know.
My human (the poor creature I’m currently intimidating and annoying with my presence) told me to do it. Lately I have developed a tendency to do what others tell me. Makes things a lot easier when you’re dealing with capricious gods. Not that my human is…, never mind.
So, I’m blogging.
The thing is, I came to this world because some deity thought it to be funny. I am stranded in a metropolis called London which is a rather interesting place to explore. A tiny black box had been shoved into my hand which turned out to be a device to communicate with others, as I am doing right now obviously.
I started via a little blue bird that made me tweet (no comment on this one, I beg you) but my human suggested to write with more detail, so a blog it should be. The fact that I can write at all, well… Deities. You get it.
My human, a she-human (it has a name, but do you honestly expect me to remember it when I cannot even remember all the names of my wives and offspring? Seriously.) is sitting next to me to guide my first steps into this world of blogging. It… She, alright. She wants me to write a preface. I already have a perfectly good face that I am more than happy with. She is laughing hysterically. Might have a word with her about respect.
In the posts to come I will tell you more about myself and the other creatures I met on my journey through several worlds. This should do as a preface. Let’s jump right into it. I am not one to dwell on too much thinking. But you might have guessed that already, right?

Human interrupts again.
She wants me to tell you more about myself first.
Alright then.
To begin with I shall tell you a bit about me and my comrades in arms (she-human nodds). Also I might find it difficult NOT to mention my countless wives and offspring. That is one of the things I probably should begin with: I have a bit of a problem with counting. Or numbers in general. Or complicated ideas. My attention span is a bit on the short side as well.
Anyway, I am an orc and Thrakbog is my name. I have a lot of other names, depending on who died in the process. A true barbarian I am, roaming the wild as well as the cities of humans, gnomes, whatever. The race is of no importance to me, I appreciate diversity. I slay them all, regardless of colour or race, age or gender. Although recently I found it fairly interesting not to slay but to live among humans in this city called London. But you’ll hear about that later. Much later. First about myself:
Orc. We’ve already established that. But maybe you have no clue what it really means being an orc. But then, how could you, never having met one. So, I’m gonna tell you.
Memories of my childhood and adolescence are a bit nebulous. Attention span, see above. But under certain circumstances – meaning: special fungi – I might be able to remember that long forgotten past. I’ll do it one day, trust me. Hehe.
I found myself with several wives and countless noisy little orcs as if waking from a dream, or more accurate, entering a nightmare. As a form of compensation I got myself true comrades in arms. They never let me down. Occasionally they tread on my poor nerves but when it really matters they have my back. Except that one time they ran like girls but that is a story for another day.
So, my comrades. You might want to know them better. Even if not, I’m gonna tell you about them in my next post.
I feel so accomplished, it’s disgusting, really.