My human and I had a bit of a discussion. Alright, a yelling.
About a week ago I had been watching something very interesting on kraut telly. Some very odd folks were using a huge bowl-like dish by the name of Wok to sled down a track. It looked like a lot of fun. (In case you have no idea what I’m talking about: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wok_racing or: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qUHQoD3lgQI )
So, naturally, I wanted to try it myself.
Luckily, she-human owns a wok, so I took it. A series of problems occured:
1. no snow or ice anywhere near where I live right now
2. rooftops are not as useful as I thought
3. stairs have no use either
4. the wok is not suited for a butt of orcish proportions
5. she-human now needs a new wok
6. I might find it difficult to sit for a while
They did not mention all that on the telly. Bunch of liars.
Do you know where I might get a bigger wok?
She-human has a very strange habit (she has several of those to be precise, but I’m trying to focus here, so shut up), she likes listening to someone reading a book to her. That in itself is NOT odd, as I like doing that myself, when she reads to me. But this someone that she listens to is not around. Those people have recorded their reading on tin, just like the iron butterfly did with the song I liked so much (see one of the previous posts). So, she quietly sits on the couch and listens. She doesn’t do anything else and hates it when I interrupt it (yes, I like doing that all the more, of course). When it first happened I thought she was dead and tried to get rid of the body. Big mistake. Won’t try that again.
So, last night I sat down with her and listened to a so-called audiobook. Voice on tin. I think she wanted to do me a favour and picked one with a proper battle in it. And boy, did the fight. I loved it. The male voice was rather pleasing, the story it told was full of soldiers and fighting and dead bodies, absolutely amazing. And the best part about it: she has more of these stories about this soldier Sharpe. The only thing that bothers me: no orcs, not a single orc in all of those stories. No elves or dwarves either. Not even a troll, and they are practically everywhere these days, aren’t they.
Imagine, if I were to record my own adventures. And after having left here, my voice would be still around (this Sharpe guy lived about 200 years ago, so good thing they put his story on tin). Many generations from now humans will listen to me, I will become immortal! GOD-LIKE! Ha! I’m THE orc of all orcs. Who could possibly question my greatness? Apart from she-human, of course, but she has seen me in a pink bath-robe so…, right. Shouldn’t have mentioned that. I’m still the greatest, okay?