Tuesday, July 26th, 2005

Time	Event
11:22a	Arg! Mission Statement. Arg! Mr. Gaiman the pitiful little human scribe of doings that transpire on the edges of our Great Domain, made the foolish mistake of challenging his blog readers to translate "this blog, or selections from it, into any other language than English." little does Mr. Gaiman know that his miserable little bloggings have attracted the attention of the Great Eldritch Crawlies From The Wailing Pits Of Beyond, and I, their scribe and prophet, the Not-Quite-Sane Arab Al-Ezkra, have for years translated his clumsy English mutterings into demented Lovecraftian blog-sonnets! Enough of this, say I! In the interests of advancing the cause of the Elder Gods, I will translate not only for them, but for you, pitiful mortal! From now on, this blog shall be consecrated in the name of Cthulhu and dedicated to the translation of that Mr. Gaiman's blog into Cthulhuese, so that the unseen workings of the Elder Gods shall be revealed in all their Eldritch Glory!!!!!! Mr Gaiman: "The only condition is that you translate as best you can and don't stick your own opinions etc in, or add exciting adventures for me where I don't have any in the original" You should be so lucky, Mr. Gaiman! BWA-HA-HA-HA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (1 Comment | Comment on this)
11:36a	Arg! Mice! Today, the pitiful Mr. Gaiman writes: "Home. Tired. The garden has turned into a fecund jungle in my absence, and when I opened the bonnet (that's the hood for Americans) of my Mini today it was apparent that mice (I presume) have a) stripped some of the insulation from under the bonnet of my Mini to build nests with, which I suppose I can understand, and b) found a convenient space near the car battery to use as a place to store spaghetti, which I find somewhat stranger. Why do mice need a place to store spaghetti anyway? It's all a bit surreal, but then everything is sort of surreal right now." Shall I translate for you, O poor benighted reader? Shall I reveal to you the workings of the Unseen Tentacles? Back in the Mists of Time, when the Shrieking Foes wept dark riddles into the Upwards Fall, the Great Unnamable One told He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named (no not Him, the other one) that the mice which served as his servants were incapable of the grand thefts of which HWSNBN boasted! HWSNBN then challenged GUO to a bet, that his time-traveling mouse-thieves could not steal Marco Polo's precious cargo of spaghetti and hide it under the hood of some foolish innocent's car! Well, so much for that! BEHOLD THE MIGHTY WORKINGS OF CTHULHU!* *The Mad Arab is, however, unable to explain the loss of the insulation. (Comment on this)

2005/07/26 [Calendar]

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