The Mysterious and Tense, Yet Somewhat Psychedelic, Story Of Mostly Purple Patty And The Meatloaf Of The Damned

…co-starring her best buddy, Orville Sweetcracker

Doc Update

Time for an update about life here at the D&G Cross Home For Wayward Basset Bitches. I haven’t been doing these as regularly as I used to, so maybe this will be the start of renewed personal updatage. Or not.

Healthwise, I’m now taking blood pressure meds due to my previously excellent BP going a bit high recently. I’m only taking half a pill a day, so I guess I’m not in danger of keeling over any time soon. I’ve also been told that my blood sugar is “nearly into the pre-diabetic range”, which pretty much means “lose some weight, fat boy!”.

Grace’s low level diabetes has cranked up a notch, so she is taking pills now and keeping a much closer eye on her numbers with twice daily tests. She has lost something like 75 pounds over the last year or so, but will keep on losing until things improve.

Winker is still taking her blood thinner and her diuretic, so she is doing pretty darned well for a dog who was so close to death just about a year ago.

Lucy and Sasha are as healthy as can be. In fact, our efforts to fatten Sasha up just a bit (she was very skinny when we adopted her) have not been as successful as we hoped. Being a “sporty” basset, she just burns off calories at a hell of a rate. Still, we have gotten her to a point where you can’t see her ribs.

Jobwise, things are still the same, which means we will be on our Adventure In Poverty until we either get fat raises or win the lottery.

One speed bump in our financial road will come when I am off work after my shoulder operation in March. That will be about 6 weeks, depending upon how well my physical therapy goes. Things will be very tight on the money front for awhile.

Gardenwise, I don’t know if we’ll have a veggie garden this year. Between the goofy ass weather (as in NO WINTER!) and my surgery/recovery, we’ll probably just have a couple of tomato plants and maybe some green beans.

In gaming news, I’m looking forward to my annual trek to Dundracon. It will be good to be immersed in geekdom and hang out with my tribe for a few days. Beyond that, I’m planning on getting my gaming group together in late April for some regular roleplaying again. I’m not sure what genre we’ll play in, but some sort of Pulp Era game sounds good.

Hark! I hear certain hounds telling me that it is time for walkies. More bloggage soon!

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After The Change Came: Series 2

Sin On Horseback

Once again, I haven’t written in a week. This time, the reason is that Doc and I have been drafted by several Wizards to go off on some cockamamie road trip looking for, as they put it “signs of something troubling”. Did they know what the signs would be? No. Did they know what the troubling thing might be? No. Did they know who the hell was behind these signs of troubling crap that Wizards didn’t know anything about? Hell no! They just told us to head northeast from Sacramento starting at noon on Tuesday, which we did. On horseback. Well, actually, muleback, since Doc prefers mules to horses.

Not that these are just any mules, don’t you know. Sirroco (Rocky) and Bellflower (Belle) are, Smart Mules, born of the first Smart Horse and Smart Donkey. Unlike many brothers and sisters, they get along very well. Unlike most mules, they are both fertile, so one day if they find mates, they could produce more Smart Mules.

So far, our trip has taken us way up into the Sierras, where besides freezing our asses off, we happened upon the remains of an abandoned lakeside village that had burned to the ground some months ago. After a bit of sleuthing, we determined that it had been torched on purpose, almost certainly by magical fire.. Doc, ever the Nature Boy, also noted that there was a very faint trail leading west. We followed it down into the foothills, passing areas that might have been camps last summer. At one of these camps, I found some large footprints in what had been mud, but was now nearly hard as rock due to our dry winter.

The footprints were nearly as large as Doc’s feet (which means long and very wide) and whoever made them probably weighed in excess of 200 pounds and wore soft leather footwear. Doc looked at those footprints a long while, then went to a pond about half a mile away. When he came back, all he would say is that his spider sense was tingling and we needed to pick up the pace.

That was yesterday and this morning we lost the trail after coming to an intersection of two paved roads. After thinking a bit, Doc decided to turn north for a bit, which is why tonight we are staying at a small hotel in Chico. I am so glad to have a hot shower and a real bed to sleep in. Unlike Old Yellow Eyes, I’m a city boy. Camping out is fun about once or twice a year…in the summer. This winter camping and riding all day is nuts. My poor ass feels like it has been hit by a truck after six days in the saddle. I’m also not too happy to have to dress all butch for a week or more.

Unfortunately, my complaints would fall on deaf ears even if I could find a Wizard to bitch at. Doc understands that this isn’t my preferred lifestyle, but we appear to be onto something big and he’s all in thinking mode, so it would be wrong to bother him. I guess I’ll just slip into the nice warm bed and sleep until the inevitable too fucking early o’clock wake up call.

More bloggage soon.

My Other Dog Is An Ankylosaurus

…and nobody wants to pet him

The Doclopedia # 399

The Alphabet, Again: B is for…Banana Plague

This deadly plague got named for the fact that in the final stages of it, the victim’s skin would turn bright yellow just before it began pealing off the body in large strips. This was a terrifying thing to see and was quickly followed by the death of the nearly skinless victim.

The Banana Plague was unleashed when an accident released it from a secret Soviet biological weapons lab in Cuba. It killed an estimated 25,000 Cubans in the first two weeks. Carried by refugees to North, Central and South America (who were unaware of what was going on), it killed 2.3 million people there, plus another 4.6 million in Europe and Asia.

A vaccine was finally perfected in March of 1978 and distributed worldwide. There have been no outbreaks anywhere since July of 1981.

Butter On The Fritters

…Mmmmm, buttered fritters

The Doclopedia # 398

The Alphabet, Again: A is for…Amy The Barbarian

On Earth 221, there are many powerful kingdoms and ravaging barbarian hordes. Among the various races of barbarians, none are stronger and deadlier than the People of Lakora. Life in their land is fraught with terrible weather, deadly animals, rough terrain and constant clan warfare. You grow up tough or you don’t grow up at all!

From this savage land came Amy, a petite warrior woman with blond pigtails, a cute face and big blue eyes. She was armed with a small pink shield and a 3 foot long sharply pointed stick. She skipped down the road, aiming to kill, steal and pillage her way through the civilized lands.

Upon her first encounter, with a band of seven burly Thudarkian mercenaries, she was laughed at and mention was made of possibly taking her as a sex slave. The mercenaries laughed so hard at her threats of violence that she had killed three of them with a sharp stick through the throat before the rest realized what had happened. At that point, it was too late for them. Moments later, a gore covered Amy stood on the chest of the lone survivor, who would now never have need of a sex slave.

“Listen to me, you wretched son of a troll! I am Amy, a warrior and thief of great skill and cunning. I have spared your worthless life so that you may go out into the world and spread the news that I will not be trifled with by scum like you, lest I leave a wake of bloody corpses behind me. Now go, run and tell all that Amy is coming!”

Between the terrified mercenary telling everyone he met about the little woman who now used his scrotum for a coin purse and Amy slaughtering everyone who messed with her, the legend of Amy the Barbarian spread quickly across the world. Soon, kingdoms would fall and armies would clash as Amy made the world her own.

Congratulations! I Am Being The President Person Of Nigeria Bank With Money For You!

…please to be giving me your personal information

The Doclopedia #397

The Alphabet, Again: A is for… Artichoke Kid

The Artichoke Kid was a vicious psychopath and mob enforcer during the 1920-1928 time period. Originally from Castroville, California, he got his nickname from his preferred method of killing: stuffing a small artichoke down the victim’s throat, thereby choking them to death.

Originally named Henry Danvers, he left home at age 13, leaving several corpses throughout the Salinas Valley. Once he got to San Francisco, he went to work for Albert “Bert the Bear” Colletino. At first he was just a numbers runner, but within weeks he was breaking the limbs of loan shark customers who were late with payments. Moving up to contract killings was only a matter of months away.

It is believed that Danvers killed at least 38 people, including mobsters Joe “Big Bones” Morelli, Little George Sponato, Shotguns O’Brien and Nick “The Barber” Santoni. In one day in 1926, he killed the mayor of Sausalito, the police chief of San Francisco and a greengrocer who had no artichokes that day. He shot the greengrocer, having gone to his store because he had run out of artichokes himself.

The Artichoke Kid died on June 4th, 1928 in a shootout with federal agents in San Francisco. It was verified that he had three pistols and a half dozen artichokes on his person at the time.

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After The Change Came: Series 2

Sin And The Burning Questions

Hello, folks! Now that I’m recovered from that damned crazyass 24 hour New Years Eve Party AND a few days in Wizard Time (which I cannot discuss right now), I’m going to do what I said a couple of posts back and answer Reader Mail. If this goes well, I may do it again sometime.

Our first question is from Sandi Pelski in Ann Arbor, Michigan: “What was the 1972-1973 Looking For Trouble World Tour?”

Well, Sandi, when we (Doc, Avis, Candy & myself) graduated (Avis & Candy with honors, Doc & I by the skin of our teeth) from Hobart’s School For Young Ladies & Gentlemen on June 3, 1972, we took a year off to travel around the world. This was funded by the many moneymaking ventures that Doc & I ran during our time in school. At first, Avis & Candy didn’t think it was a good idea, but Doc is a silver tongued Yankee devil and before long, he had them convinced and we were off on a big adventure. At some point early on, Candy said that traveling with “these two insane white boys” was just looking for trouble. That came back to haunt her when, on a drunken night in Melbourne, we all got the previously mentioned tattoos. When she woke up the next day, Avis was so aghast at what she had done, she never got drunk again in her life. I’ll note that that time was actually the only time she had ever gotten drunk. Doc’s attempt to cheer her up by reminding her that we had originally wanted to get the tattoos on our asses did little to console her. Anyway, we were gone for a year and a day, had a wonderful time (certain international incidents notwithstanding) and then it was Harvard for Avis, MIT for Candy, the California Institute of Fine Arts for me and ten years living like a hippie in a converted school bus for Doc and the recently graduated Grace.

From Boris Skalnikov in the L4 Colony, the question is “I have heard mention of Weerloos by both you and Doc. What exactly are they?”

It’s good that I’m answering this question and not Doc, because if he did, this would be an obscenity filled rant. Weerloos are one of the many new races of sentient beings created by the Wizards during/after the Change. They look pretty much like humanoid crocodiles and stand about 4 feet tall. They are quite primitive, living in small tribes that are loosely part of a larger clan. They are vicious, war loving, carnivorous little fuckers who, truth be told, aren’t very smart and don’t hold to most diplomatic agreements unless they are backed up by a very real threat of violence. That last would be why Doc is known among the Weerloos as “Taker of Tails & Teeth”. He tends to practice “aggressive diplomacy” when dealing with them.

Weerloos are mostly found on the West coasts of North and South America, with a few clans found along major rivers farther inland (here in California, that means the Sacramento River north of Sacramento to just south of Red Bluff) and in river deltas. They are semi-nomadic, seldom staying in one place for more than two years. There is no inequality between sexes, but if you are very young or very old, life is tough. The young must fight for survival, initially by killing most of their nest mates. Old Weerloos who do not have significant political or magical might (and Weerloo mages are very rare) will find themselves either forced out of the tribe to survive alone or just plain dead.

Once in a while, a few clans will band together in an attempt to conquer or kill a few other clans or maybe some group of another species. This almost always fails due to Weerloo clans turning against each other in mid battle. Back when the 5 Clans of Blood attacked the Short Troll town of Longport (just south of Chico, CA), the battle did not go well due to the Short Trolls having a more organized militia and better weapons. When the Weerloos regrouped, fighting broke out and more than half the forces died. The rest ran home with new hatred of the “traitor clans” in their hearts.

To quote Doc: “Weerloos suck. They really really do.”

Geoff Darcy of London, England asks “Do you always wear ladies clothing?”

No, Geoff, I don’t. Well, except for undies. Those are always feminine and always silk. But when I’m working or doing “guy stuff”, I pretty much dress like any other fellow. I have a whole closet full of concert/band/gaming & sci-fi/touristy t-shirts and several pairs of jeans from vintage Levis to cheaper brands. I even have a couple of suits, including the Armani tuxedo I wore at Doc & Grace’s wedding, which shocked everybody into speechlessness.

All told, I’d say I dress up all manly about a third of the time.

Well, folks, I must get out the door now. There are two paintings, a bunch of errands and a dinner date with a young lady that need my attention. More blogging later!

World Of Whorecraft

…it’s WAY more fun to play

The 366 Days of Blogging Hell

Gentle Readers,

It is just after midnight on January, 29th, 2012, my 58th birthday. As I promised a few weeks ago, I now start a leap year (366 days) of daily posts here and twice weekly posts on the fiction blog. However, since I set a goal of 500 posts on this blog, that will mean somewhat more than once a day posts. You might see 4-5 Doclopedia posts a day for awhile, then only one a day for a bit. After my shoulder operation on March 7th, there won’t be any posts for a couple of days.

Note that that’s just Doclopedia posts I’m counting, so with a few rants or other posts each month, I should be closer to 600 here. The fiction blog may see more than two posts a week, but don’t count on it.

I apologize in advance for any crazed gibbering I may do on Facebook or Twitter come about October or so. Please just smile and nod and forgive me my descent into madness. Grace, Lucy, Winker and Sasha: I love you and I hope I don’t turn into too big a bastard.

I thank you in advance for comments on either or both blogs. They will mean a lot to me, at least before the hallucinations set in.

And now, the first of many Doclopedia entries on the topic of The Alphabet, which I did last year. This year though, I’ll do more than one post per letter.

Again, thank you.

Your Humble Narrator

PS: My annual fictional convention trip report will appear here, not on the fiction blog, come early August

The Doclopedia #396

The Alphabet, Again: A is for…Agent A

Agent A, whose real name was never revealed, was the hero in a series of bestselling spy novels on the Earth where most people are cowardly wimps. Actually, even the daring and bold people on that Earth are pretty wimpy. I mean, a guy who waits until the first rain to put up his storm windows is considered a reckless fool.

Anyway, Agent A had thrilling adventures in which he drove over the speed limit, raised his voice in a surly manner to the villains (who were armed with sharp objects and stuff that might permanently stain your clothing), ate food from other regions of the country and had sexual intercourse with women he hardly knew! The books (16 novels and 3 collections of short stories) sold in the millions. The series of movies based upon them (Doctor No Thank You was the first) made even more money. Starting in 2014, the plots of the movies became original works. Tomorrow Probably Won’t Die was the first of these.

After The Change Came: Series 2

 

Sin And The Magical New Year

I’m drunk. Very very drunk. This is, in fact, the umpteenth time I’ve been drunk in the last 24 hours. See, Doc…who is a devious Yankee scalawag…had been hanging out with Wizard Bongo Longo and Wizard Suzy Creamcheese (who cannot be all bad if she got her name from Zappa) and I don’t know how many other Wizards and they all said “let’s celebrate New Year’s all the way around the world!”. And so about 500 people showed up at Washington Square in San Francisco and we were off to some island in the Pacific with food and booze and music and about two hours until midnight.

After that, it was rinse and repeat in each time zone and on various islands & continents. When the assembled crowd got too blitzed, POOF!, magic sobered us all up. Pretty cool, really. And the food and music are wonderful. Different type of music in each zone. This zone, it’s Celtic Punk. I hear that next zone will be Old School Country & Western. In the zone with Vegas, it’ll be all Rat Pack. Cool.

Did I mention that we can change our outfits instantly? I am wearing Edith Head just now and looking like I’m waiting for Mr. DeMille to shoot the next scene. Grace is wearing some incredibly sexy toga thing and even at her advanced stage of pregnancy looks like a million bucks. Avis is looking good, too. She has on a red dress and naughty shoes.

Doc has changed bandanas for each time zone, which is the best we can hope for from him.

I think Roscoe might have changed his earring, but Gigi has gone through a dozen bows and a few necklaces

I must go now. Sobriety and the next zone are moments away and there will be young honeys to ring in the year with. Thank goodness for magic or all this ringing would wear out my bell:)

More bloggage after a couple days sleep.

It’s All Fun & Games Until You Just Walk Into Mordor

…we should have listened to Boromir

New, pre-Death March Doclopedia entry! I actually cried a bit writing this one.

The Doclopedia #395

The Infinite Doc: Doc Cross, Canine Hero

I wasn’t always a dog, you know. Five years ago, I was an ordinary suburban homeowner, just about 4 months past my sixtieth birthday. Life was good, if not as financially stable as I would have liked. Then one day, while I’m standing in my own front yard, two teenage gangbangers driving at high speed and being chased by the cops lose control of their car and crash right into me. I was tossed right through the front window of the house and onto the living room floor. The gangbangers, not wearing seatbelts, only made it through their windshield and onto the outside wall.

So I’m laying there, all busted up and shit, and I have just enough time to tell my sweetheart that I’m sorry and I love her and then everything goes black for a few moments. Then I’m standing there, looking at her and the dogs and the cops coming in the door and I know I’m dead.

Oddly, I was not freaked out by this. I was, however, pretty pissed off at those dickheaded teens who killed me, so I stepped through a wall to kick their asses. I saw the cops kneeling beside the bodies, pronouncing them dead. A few feet away, the gangbangers were well and truly freaking out. They were crying out for Jesus to save them and all that sort of stuff.

I was about to tell them they were about one car crash too late, but a woman popped into existence between us. She was young and pretty and smiling and smelled like freshly baked bread. Well, at least, that’s how she looked to me. To the two unfortunate dipshits on her other side, she must have looked pretty scary, because now they were screaming and trying to crawl away. She waved her hand and both of them transformed into flies, which buzzed off in a big hurry.

Turning towards me, she said, “Now they must spend a very long time as flies, but fully aware that they were once human.”

“That’s really going to suck come dinner time”, I replied, somewhat bemused by how little I was affected by seeing all of this. “So, is this Judgment Time? If so, I’d just like to point out that in my youth, alcohol was often tied to my assholish behavior.” I took it as a good sign that she chuckled at that.

“In a way, you will be judged now, just not in the Biblical straight to Heaven or Hell sense. It’s all about reincarnation, Doc. Depending upon how good you were, you get to come back higher on the ladder. If you were really bad, you get to repeat your initial reincarnation form over a few times. Adolph Hitler is still a tubeworm on an undersea volcanic vent at this point.”

About then, I was figuring I might get used to being a chicken, provided it was free range. I had not exactly been a saint. Mammalhood did not seem likely, although I might luck out and come back as an echidna.

“So, what will I be coming back as? If I get a choice, a wild macaw would be nice, but I wouldn’t sneer at a few decades as a duck.”

She chuckled again. “Oh, you weren’t quite that bad, Doc. I think you’ll enjoy yourself for the next couple of decades.”

And then my next memory was being born in a nice warm pile of blankets. My memories of being human were very dim as my mother licked me clean. After that, somebody picked me up and put me near a nipple and it was chow time.

I was a puppy. To be precise, I was yellow Labrador Retriever with four sisters and a brother. The next few weeks flew by. It was a pretty sweet life, mostly because we were pedigreed show dogs. Luckily for me, I was not quite of show quality, so I was going to be sold as a pet. That would have been cool, but at the tender age of 12 weeks old, the Reincarnation Lady appeared. Somehow I knew that my life as a pampered pet wasn’t on the agenda.

Sure enough, she told me that my destiny lay in another direction. I was supposed to roam around as a stray and help humans and other animals. With a wave of her hand, the breeders forgot all about me. I found that I had aged a couple of months and was standing in a lightly wooded area near a creek. The Lady was nowhere to be seen, so I went over to the creek and sniffed the water. Smelling no bad stuff in it, I had a good long drink and started trotting west. After about an hour, I came to a road sign saying that I was 35 miles west of Cody, Wyoming. I could easily hear all sorts of things around me and smell about a zillion more. Ok, I could dig this new assignment. Could be fun and being a dog with a mission beat the hell out of being a fly eating shit.

It took me the better part of two years to get back to Sacramento. Along the way, I helped lost children, saved the life of a trucker after a wreck, woke up two different families when their houses caught fire and helped the police catch a few dozen fleeing fugitives. Don’t even ask me how many animals I helped. I carried one poor injured cat in my mouth for 15 miles until we got to a vet’s office near Reno. I hung around until he got better (avoiding animal control pretty easily and eating food the vet put out for me every night) and then I helped him escape from transfer to a shelter. His name is Al and he travels with me now, often riding on my back. He’s a really good friend.

When I got to Sacramento, I went home, just to check things out. I had thought about doing it for most of the last few months, often nearly backing out on the idea. In the end, I just had to know if things were ok.

The house was fully repaired and repainted. The yard looked great. Grace wasn’t home, but The Girls were. They were pretty surprised to see me as a dog, but got over it pretty quickly. They were more surprised to see me consorting with a cat. We chatted through a window that was open about an inch. They told me that Grace was doing alright now and had used my insurance money to pay off all the debt and buy a new car. They had been doing a fair amount of traveling recently and all of them were in good health, although Winker and Lucy were pushing 13 and 14. They said Grace would be home soon, but I decided to move on. I said my goodbyes and then Al and I headed down the street.

I’m not sure where we’ll head next, but I do have some friends on the East Coast that I’d like to check up on. That can wait a bit though, because it’s looking like that guy up ahead is following that woman and she smells like fear and he smells like crazy person.

I am SO going to bite him.

Handsome Joe Goes Camping

…lots of things to sniff in the woods!

My Advice To Young Men

Young nerdy men often approach me and ask, “Mr. Cross, how can I become a shining example of male coolness like you?” Of course, other young men, much less nerdy than the first group, approach me and ask, “Can I see some ID? What is your business here?”, but this piece is not about them.

For the former group, I offer up a few suggestions that can really boost your coolness factor, especially among women.

1: Listen to what women have to say.

Oh, sure, you won’t understand some of it and other parts might cause your eyes to glaze over, but keep listening. Sometimes, you’ll learn things you might not want to know. Much of this will revolve around the menstrual cycle. Other times, you’ll learn valuable info, such as sexual preferences and who has geeky leanings.

WARNING: Don’t be too good of a listener or you’ll run the risk of moving into “You are SUCH a good friend!” territory, at which point you might as well be her gay shopping buddy.

2: Go easy on the geekery.

Look, buddy, I’m one of your tribe, a roleplaying gamer/Whovian/Star Trek loving techie fanboy, but even I don’t want to hear about your friggin’ 15th level Barbarian War Mage and his +5 Sword of Headlopping. A little geekiness goes a long way and too much will hang the “Too Geeky To Get Laid” sign around your neck.

Fortunately, geeks are way cooler than back in my day and there are plenty of geek girls out there. Still, ixnay on the nerdy rants.

3: Don’t dress like a trendoid, but don’t be a slob.

Trendoids all look the same and slobby geeks all smell the same and both are pretty damned disgusting. Find a look you like that isn’t too strange, go with it and practice proper hygene.

4: For sexual success with women, learn about the female body.

Find a woman (older is better) who will let you explore, show you what is where and tell you how to do things. If this requires that money changes hands, so be it. It’s money well spent, my droogies.

I do have a few tips on this subject…

First off, Caress, Don’t Grope. Try to control your enthusiam. Her body isn’t going to suddenly disappear.

Secondly, Learn To Give Good Oral Sex. Really, cunnilingus is your friend.

Third, except when it gets to extremes on either end of the scale, Size Does Not Matter. Odds are, you have a perfectly good johnson, so stop worrying about shit you can’t change.

5: Learn to cook.

Yes, women love a man who can put them on the express train to Orgasm City, but they really love a guy who can feed them a great home cooked meal before hand. Actually, if you do the latter, it often leads to you getting a crack at the former. On a related note, if the only things you ever learn to do around the house are clean a toilet and wash dishes, you’ll still fall into the “Worth Keeping” category, all things being equal.

6: Shut the hell up and let her pick the movie once in a while.

Yeah, I know, “Iron Man 5” is coming out on Friday and you want to go see it more than anything. Well, brother, if she wants to go see “Weepy Chick Flick 3”, you’ll score big points by manning up and taking her to see it. Preferably at an early screening, so that after a nice home cooked dinner and some hot sex, she won’t mind if you go out and see “Iron Man 5”.

Ok, enough of this lecturing. I must go call my geeky, sexy, chick flick hating, home cooking loving wife. More bloggage later

 

After The Change Came: Series 2

Sin And The Family

Greetings from Charleston, South Carolina, my hometown and birthplace. I’m here until Wednesday morning, then it’s a quick Wizard Portal home for Babe and I.

I’ve got to say that my parents and family are just great to hang out with. So unlike the old days when most of my family was all wrapped up in what the neighbors thought and keeping up our family name. Now that most of them are gnomes, Christmas is a bunch of fun. To be honest though, I’m still a bit dazed to see my dad laughing and joking and happy all the time. Seeing my mom actually cooking food was pretty brain frying, too. Ok, so it was also pretty strange seeing my oldest sister, Scarlett, behave like a normal person and not a candidate for sainthood while my brother, Brendan, never once mentioned money or conservative politics and my other older sister, Thomasina, seemed actually interested in other people besides herself. Val told me it might take a few years for it all to seem normal, and she should know.

Of course, the important part of Christmas, now that religion has faded into the background for most folks, is presents, and I scored some good ones. Mom and dad actually got me a gorgeous fur trimmed silk robe that looks like it might have been worn by Jean Harlow back in the day. I actually wept when I opened it, since it was the very first time my parents had ever acknowledged my alternative lifestyle.

Scarlett got me an actual flying carpet (kind of slow and with a limited range, but way cool anyway), Thomasina got me some slippers that not only change color, but stay warm on cold days and cool on hot ones. Brendan gave me two gifts. The first was a picture he painted of the beach near our grandparents house, which I loved to visit. The second gift was a bottle of 20 year old scotch. We drank half of that one.

Valentine, after decades of bemoaning the fact that I “looked lopsided” having only the one tattoo on my right shoulder (the same one that Doc, Avis and our friend Candy have, it shows a globe and the words “1972-1973 Looking For Trouble World Tour”) gave me a gift certificate to get one on my left shoulder at Voodoo Tattoo in San Francisco. I love my little sister.

During this stay, I’ve met a ton of relatives I hadn’t seen since 20 years before I died, plus my 16 nephews and nieces (Val is not yet married, but the others are, with big gnomish families). There were Mayhews and Tanners and Jacobs and Penningtons galore, plus a whole slew of other surnames I can’t recall.

So, I’ll be showing Babe around town (most folks here have never met a Smart Rabbit), enjoying real Southern cooking (with the exception of Mrs. Cross, most Yankees just can’t properly do Southern food) and taking a break from painting other people’s stuff. I’ll blog again once I get home, maybe with a Q&A blog. If y’all have any questions, let me know.

The Thrilling Adventures Of Doctor Tempest And The Great Submarine Race

…from the July 1896 issue

Rant: Shit I Do Not Understand

1: Why anybody gives a fuck about the Kardashians.

Who the fuck are these people, anyway? How did they get a television show? Did I miss something and they were in a hit movie or maybe escaped from Iran or something? Did one of them write a famous novel? Really, why would anybody care about that pack of rich nitwits?

2: What the hell is up with worshipping sports coaches?

Yo, people, these guys just tell other guys how to play a fucking game! That’s it! If they are lucky enough to win often or just manage to be adequate for 30-40 years, people talk about them like they descended from Mount Olympus. People ought to be giving that love and praise to firemen or scientists or the guy who slogs through the snow to repair your furnace or teachers or farmers. When was the last time a football coach operated on your heart or found a vaccine for polio or even just changed the sparkplugs on your car?

3: Why doesn’t the tech industry bitchslap the entertainment industry?

Well, ok, they did, finally, with SOPA & PIPA, but they need to do that shit more often. I mean, hey, computer games rake in more bucks than movies and unlike the motion picture, television and music industries, the internet is just getting bigger every day. Come on, High Tech, buy up some politicians and lobbyists and make those entertainment goobs your bitches. We common folk will behind you 100%.

4: When will the gay people be coming to destroy my marriage?

According to the Republican Party and the Religious Right (whom we know would never utter a falsehood), married gay men or maybe lesbians should have ruined my happy home by now. I’ve asked gay couples about this in the past, you know, to maybe schedule an appointment, but the married couples I know don’t seem to know anything about when it all starts. Not that I’m eager to end my marriage, but I was kinda hoping fellow Californian George Takei might drop by to give it a go, at which point I’d get his autograph and a couple of pictures. Hell, even the gay folks I grew up with don’t have a clue. Poor planning, Homosexual Americans, very poor planning.

Ok, that’s it for this time. More bloggage soon.

 

After The Change Came: Series 2

Sin Takes A Holiday

Oh my, dear readers, has it really been a week since my last post? I apologize, but I’ve been busy during the day painting everything from portraits of Mages to the front doors of three different houses. At night, I’ve been getting ready for Christmas. This year, for the first time in decades, I will once again spend Christmas Eve with the Cross extended family, then very early on Christmas morning I’ll be off to Charleston to be with my own full family for the first time since 1982. Most of them, like most of the Cross family, are gnomes, so it will be a much more fun affair than it ever was in the pre-Change years. I particularly want to see my Great Aunt Philomena (Philly), because she was such a hoot when I was a kid. She ought to be even more fun now that she is a young woman again. My Uncle Arthur will also be there and I’m sure that becoming a werebear has not impeded his ability to tell great stories, off color jokes and dirty limericks.

My human sister, Valentine (Val), tells me that Mom & Dad are busting their gnomish butts to make this a great Christmas for us all. You have no idea how unlike my pre-Change parents that is. Mom always hired people to do the holiday party prep and Dad pretty much just signed the checks. Even though I’ve seen pictures of holidays they’ve had since the Change, this will be the first time I’ve been there in the flesh.

Gotta run. The two young ladies who just moved into the house next door need some help with trimming their tree. I may be very late getting home.

I’ve Got Your “Loose Cannon” Right Here, Baby!

…be careful with that!

Ok, Gentle Readers, after too long a delay, the final Big Balls post. I won’t be doing any Doclopedia posts between now and my birthday on the 29th, but I do hope to post a few other things.

Oddly, today’s post is actually about big balls.

The Doclopedia #394

Big Balls: Martian Mammoths

Yessir, that’s a group of young bull calves there. We like to get ’em cut before they reach elephant size, otherwise it takes twice as many hands to rope one and hold him down. At this size, they’re about twice as big as a Terran Angus bull and a whole hell of a lot stronger, but once you get ’em down, they lie still easier. Can’t keep ’em down long due to the weight on their lungs, but hell, a good cutter can get in there and have the testicles out in under a minute.

That big one over in the holding pen? That’s Amarillo Shaggy, our top bull. Named after my grandfather’s home town back on Terra. He’s won every prize the Martian Mammoth Breeders have to give. He’s fourteen years old and has sired over 200 offspring. Every one of them has been show quality, too. You get a really good carcass out of them, too. The meat is well marbled and tastes great.

Ok, now here they go on the first one. See how Tommy and Red keep the bull looking at them? That gives Wendy, Julio and Rick time to lasso the front and back legs. Now they’ll bring him down. Alright! That was a good soft takedown. Now Doc Kerry and her helper get in there and do the deed. Let’s time it.

Forty seven seconds! That’s real good. You want to get a closer look? I don’t imagine that you city folk down in Burroughs get to see genuine mountain oysters very often. Yep, I’d say about five pounds each. Oh sure, we eat ’em. Once the cuttin’ is done, Rick and Tommy will slice ’em up and fry ’em and everybody on the ranch will sit down for what we call “Beer, Bread, Balls & Bullshittin’”. You’ll stay for it, right? There ya go! Say, you big city reporters ain’t half as sissified as folks say!

After The Change Came: Series 2

.

Sin And The Too Cute Catgirl

Early yesterday morning, I got a call from Lily about helping her pick out a dress and accessories for her school’s Winter Ball, which will happen tomorrow. Being rather new to both the wearing clothes thing and the dressing up fancy thing, she naturally called Uncle Sin for advice.

Let’s face it, her mom, Grace, is beautiful and all, but not much concerned with wearing the latest fashions. Green Ladies consider a simple toga to be “all dressed up”. Doc, besides being a straight male, has roughly the fashion sense of a goat. Oh sure, on those rare occasions where he has to get dressed up, he can look good, but the other 364 days of the year, it’s t-shirts, jeans and sneakers. Brother Roscoe doesn’t wear clothes, being a dog and all, but if he did, he’s probably be no more fashion conscious than Doc. Grandmothers, aunts & cousins are pretty useless as well, since most of them are gnomes and the rest are other nonhuman races.

But Uncle Sin knows all about how to dress like a lady and look tres hot doing it.

In less than an hour, thanks to Wizard Portals, I had Miss Lily in Paris trying on various dresses. Now, she is a petite girl, 5′ tall, slender and curvy, but not very busty yet. Plus, she has that 3′ long tail and her cat ears up on top of her head. With her long white hair and the much shorter and finer white hair covering the rest of her body (but not her face), I decided that she needed a Little Black Dress.

After three shops and about two dozen dresses, we finally found one by the Mutant designer, Michu. His mutant power allows him to create clothing that is all one piece of material. No seams anywhere! The one we chose was made of a magically created silk material that has tiny sparkly points scattered throughout it that actually produce their own faint light. It looks like she’s wearing the night sky. It’s knee length, with slits to about mid-thigh and I’m sure many young boys will be rendered speechless when they see her in it.

I liked the material so much that I ordered a couple of outfits made from it. They’ll be ready in two months, which will give me time to sell everything I own to pay for them.

Michu quickly adjusted the dress to accommodate Lily’s tail and we then left to go accessorize! Cute little purse with mock pearls and a Bag of Large Capacity enchantment? Check! Darling little high heels to match (with a Comfort Enchantment rather than increased capacity)? Check! Three Diamond ear studs for each ear? Check! Beautiful, but understated diamond necklace? Check!

It’s a good thing that diamonds are cheap now, or Old Yellow Eyes would have pitched a fit. As it was, the cost of the dress merely made his eyes pop out of his head.

Once we had a bit of dinner, we portaled home where she modeled the full outfit for her parents, Roscoe & GiGi, her visiting Aunt Lauren and me. She was just beautiful! I loaned her some of my favorite perfume, “Wild Nights” and so she is all set for the Winter Ball. I’m told that her escort will be a young fellow named Tomas, also 13 years old. I’m sure that having Lily on his arm will more than make up for the interrogation that Doc puts him through before they leave the house.

Oh my, all of this reminds me of my fifth year Spring Formal at Hobart’s School for Young Ladies & Gentlemen all those decades ago. But that’s a story for another day, since I have to go earn some money to pay for those outfits Michu is making.

When The Bus Rolled In At Midnight, Billy The Shark Was On It

…they called him “The Shark” because he liked to bite people

Subject Line: Promotions, Retirements and Vacations

Since I’ve decided to go all balls out with the blogging and tweeting and facebooking and stuff starting on my 58th birthday and going until my 59th, I figured I’d try to add a bit of freshness to my subject lines, too.

Those of you who have been reading my blogs since early 2004 know that I try to never have my subject lines have anything to do with what I’m writing about. In fact, I’d say only 25 or 30 out of the near 2,000 posts have anything to do with the content. The rest are shit that just pops into my head about 30 seconds before I hit “publish”. I’m 99.9999% certain that I’ve never exactly repeated a subject line.

Still, over the years I have created some subject lines and styles of subject lines that appear on a regular basis. Starting on my birthday, some of these old friends will go on hiatus while others will be retired (possibly forever, possibly not) and the remainder will get promoted to regular usage. Details follow…

Mostly Purple Patty: I have started most months with an MPP subject line since October 25, 2006 and I see no reason to stop now. Patty, you are like the bizarre children’s book daughter I never had.

Bucky & Squint
: You guys have been with me since the beginning, but it’s time to retire you. Go back to Fargo and enjoy yourselves. Oh, and your cut from that cathouse in Juarez will arrive by courier every month.

The Ten Blue Budgies: I’m shipping you lot back to Australia with a lifetime supply of budgie chow and mirrors to fight with. You did good work, mates!

Doc Tempest: Of course, your work is never done, Doc, so you’ll be sticking around and taking up a position at the start of the first week of each month, unless Patty has dibs on.

Mrs. Wangdoodle: Retirement…and the many gentlemen at the East Wixby Senior Living Village…calls to you, my dear. Please, no tears. We’ll always have Flatbush.

Handsome Joe
: It’s a promotion for you, my little fictional children’s book Basset Hound! I will try to use you a lot more that I have in the past.

Potawango Island: No way am I done with you! So many wonderful species of flora & fauna still left to introduce to the world.

Dr. Silkmelon and Mr. Porkwaffle: If I cannot give up Potawango Island, how then can I turn my back on the hearty men who discovered it? Onward, gentlemen, ever onward!

The Chapters: I am not yet done with you, but I think we shall give Our Hero (if not the French and the wicked and corrupt Church) a few months off. However, we shall await your eventual return with bated breath.

The Flying Spanaducci Sisters: Go, ladies, and tour with Billy Rose’s Big Show. You knocked ’em dead here, girls.

It’s All Fun & Games: Not done with you by a long shot.

Harry Potter: You get a nice long break, Harry. Give Ginnie my love.

Ok, that’s it for now. I might have missed a couple, but I’ll deal with them as they pop up. Now I’m off to work. Y’all stay out of trouble.

After The Change Came: Series 2

Sin And The Fishing Trip

I am just a couple of hours back from a short camping and fishing trip with Doc, his dad Bill, his uncle Carl and Roscoe. At first, Doc and I were just going to fish here locally, but his mom, his aunt, his sisters, Grace, Lily, Babe and GiGi told us all that they wanted some woman (or, in Babe and GiGi’s case, doe and bitch) time, so we were cast out into the wild. Doc’s gnomish brothers were sent off on some sort of Gnome Scout function. Nick, being just a puppy, stayed home with GiGi.

So off we went into the chilly, but sunny and dry wilds of the Placerville area where we set up camp and spent a couple of days fishing, drinking, eating camp food, swapping lies and generally being guys. It was totally fun and at night, Bill and Carl would get out the guitar and fiddle and serenade us. Sometimes we’d join in, although my singing voice will sour milk and Doc’s is barely passable. Roscoe, on the other hand, has a great voice that is not unlike that of George Jones.

We caught a fair number of fish, including a bunch of Golden Trout. We ate some and salted the rest down to take home. At one point, I hooked something big way out in the middle of the American River, but whatever it was, it snapped my line like it was sewing thread. Bill thought it might have been a Giant Carp.

About halfway along the trip home, Doc got a Wizard Summons and was teleported away. Knowing how much he hates both of those things, I expect he will be in a pretty foul mood when he finally gets home. On the plus side, he will no doubt have invented several new curse words.

Well, friends, I’m off to take a bit of a nap before I do the domestic thing. This apartment looks like a gang of teenagers lives here. After that, it’s QuestWorld for me while Babe catches up on some episodes of the third season of Firefly. I’ll blog at y’all later.

A Quail With A Pail And A Snail Wearing A Veil Conversed By Mail About A Tale Concerning A Frail Male Whale That Was Locked Up In Jail

…and fed only stale ale

The Doclopedia #393

Big Balls: The Scientist & Inventors Ball

Alright, boys, it’s that time of year again, the time of the big shindig over on Third Avenue. For those of you who are new to the force, I’m talking about the 10th Annual Scientist & Inventors Ball. It’s been held every year since 1895 and I’m here to tell you that New York City is damned lucky to survive it. You put upwards of 300 crackpots in a confined space with their dates and their latest creations and brother, something is going to blow. And I DO mean blow…as in blow up, shoot fire or lightning, cause things to disappear, take off into the air, try to eat humans and/or buildings, cause brains to explode or turn ordinary folks into monsters. Two years ago we lost four blocks of ritzy houses to a giant glob of snot! I know that Mahoney here can tell you about the acid spitting robots from ’98, and it’s not a pretty story.

Now, this year, the Mayor and the Governor have promised that we’ll have soldiers and marines helping us, but we all know that when the shit hits the fan, it’ll all be on us and the boys in the Fire Department to clean it up. We’ve got five days to prepare and so you’ll all be getting your assignments by tomorrow.

I’m not yanking your legs when I say this is a damned dangerous assignment. Hell, it’s going to be even more dangerous this year because it’s the tenth year of this insanity. The guest list is running near 450 and there’ll be scientists and inventors from all over the world. Lord help us with the French, English & Germans in the same room! And the Chinese are saying that they’re bringing a goddamn dragon!

You’ll all be armed with these new rocket guns, which they say will blow a hole through armor plate. Along with that, you’ll be wearing this lightweight armor. Yeah, yeah, it looks stupid, but it might save your life. Those of you assigned to actually be inside the Ball will get other weapons and stuff. But hey, if things get really bad in there, get your asses outside. The nutjobs at the Ball hardly ever get badly hurt, but us poor cops are another story.

Ok, that’s about it for now. O’Hara will hand out some stuff for you to read. Have a good day out there and between now and Saturday, spend as much time with your friends and families as possible.

 

 

After The Change Came: Series 2

Sin Is In

And Sweet Jesus up a pecan tree, is he tired! I’m sure y’all thought I fell off the planet, being gone five days and all, but I was just way busy. After the Great Shoe Expedition, my last two days in The City were mostly all about what my sister Scarlett would have referred to as “sin and debauchery in some disgusting Yankee den of perverts” (something, by the way, that the pre-gnomed Scarlett could have benefited from). I stand unrepentant because there are so many women and so little time. Also, it was just crazy fun.

After I left San Francisco, I took the train to Fresno where spent two days hanging out with some artist friends and helping them paint a huge (ten feet tall and a mile long!) mural celebrating the 10th year of Fresno hosting the North American Association of Mages. I had fun, but by the time I left I was aching from head to toe. When I got home this morning, I slept for 12 hours. The only reason I woke up when I did was because Babe was telling me that we were out of fresh greens and the new series of Doctor Who was going to start in a couple of hours. Babe and I are both big fans of the 19th Doctor, so after a quick trip to the local store for greens and sandwich fixings, we had dinner and are waiting for the show to start.

I’m supposed to finish painting Mage Daphne’s home tomorrow. I think after that I’ll call up Doc and see if he wants to go fishing on Monday. Somewhere in there I really need to do some grocery shopping and housecleaning, too.

Ah, show is starting! More blogging later.

The Girl With The Green Nipples Goes To San Francisco

…and hilarity ensued

The Doclopedia #392

Big Balls: The Hamster Ball Of Doom

You wanna know about the Hamster Ball of Doom? Yeah, I can tell ya all about it, buddy…IF ya buy me a beer an’ a shot. I’m kinda low on funds nowadays. Hey, thanks!

Anyway, I was a Minion, Second Class when ol’ Doctor Harfenberger…who was crazy as a shithouse rat, I’ll tell ya…learns that he’s dyin’ of cancer and decides to do his level best to destroy th’ world. Now, to us minions, this is not big news. Shit sakes, every fuckin’ Mad Scientist, Evil Genius and Criminal Mastermind gives it a try sooner or later! I remember when old Professor Vyle built that earthquake machine o’ his. Pretty impressive, but when he fired the damned thing up he suddenly remembered he was in Los Angeles. Ha ha ha! Got squashed flatter than a pancake when the machine toppled over in th’ quake.

Yeah, right, th’ hamster ball. So the nutty bastard has us all build this friggin’ hamster ball that’s 250 feet across! It’s got gyro stabilizers and food synthesizers and all kindsa shit built into it, but mostly it was clear as glass and made outta some indestructible stuff he created. Oh, yeah, and there was the energy field gizmo that did all the destroying! That was powered up by the hamster rollin’ th’ ball around.

Man, that hamster! He was just a regular little guy when we sealed him in th’ ball, but then Doc Harfenberger hits ‘im with some damned ray an’ pretty soon he’s 150 foot long and wantin’ to roll that ball! So then we turned ‘im loose an’ about an hour later he’s crushing the shit outta Las Vegas. Wasn’t nothin’ the military could do, ‘cos that energy field just caused whatever it touched to blow up. By the time Charlie…that’s what we called the hamster, Charlie…has heading towards Chicago, they were thinkin’ about nukin’ him.

It was about that time Ol’ Doc Harfenberger lost his fight with th’ Big C. Us minions, findin’ ourselves unemployed, did what minions do every time that happens: we looted th’ shit outta the secret hideout an’ went off lookin’ for work!

Without us sendin’ commands to th’ ball, it started breakin’ down. At some point, th’ special food lost it’s zing an’ ol’ Charlie shrank back down ta normal. I reckon when th’ ball opened up, he hauled ass for somewhere safe. Hope th’ lil’ guy made it an’ had a good life.

So that’s it, pal, th’ straight scoop. Hey, if ya buy me ‘nother drink, I’ll tell ya all ’bout how Dr. Tyrannus built that army o’ robot weasels!

 

After The Change Came: Series 2

Sin And Shoes, Glorious Shoes

As I said last night, today was a shopping for shoes kind of day and we did just that! Accompanied by Babe and Newton (who I forgot to mention is a Shiba Inu), Gina and I rode bicycles over to SoMa (that’s the South of Market Street area, for you non-San Franciscans) and began hitting up various shoe shops.

Now, Gina, with her petite little feet can shop just about anywhere, but when you start looking for cute woman’s shoes in a man’s size 12 E (still narrower than Old Yellow Eyes and his EEEE gunboats), your options decrease alarmingly. Fortunately, this is the perfect shopping town for a guy who likes dressing up as a gal, so we went to B. Franco Shoes on Folsom street.

Before the Change, Bernardo Franco was THE place to go for wonderful shoes in large sizes. All of them handcrafted and in many cases absolutely one of a kind. Not cheap, but you get what you pay for. I still have the first pair of high heels I ever bought there. They’re “Come Fuck Me” Red and dotted with rhinestones and are totally hot looking, as are the maybe 60 other pairs of shoes I’ve bought from Bernardo.

Now, just about a month before I died in ’94, Bernardo had his 60th birthday and was swearing that when he hit 70, he was going to retire and leave the business in the hands of his daughters, Michelle and Olivia. Of course, the Change shot his plans in the ass by turning him into a 20 year old Cobbler Gnome. So he’s still in the old location with a crew of about 25 other gnomes and his shoes are better than ever.

I dropped a bundle there and came out with five pair, including a totally sweet pair of gogo boots that will look great with a miniskirt a lady friend of mine back in Sacramento made for me. Still need just the right top for that ensemble, but I’m sure I’ll find it.

Anyhow, after nearly three hours of shoe shopping, we are having a late lunch (we didn’t get home until 4:00 AM and to sleep until 5:30) at Hot Sandwich (their pork torta is just crazy good) before heading off to a few clothing stores and then back to Gina’s for a bit of a rest. After that, Gina and I will be catching some roller derby action.

See y’all later!

Dastardly Bandicoots Trampled My Gooseberries

…no pie for me

A Message Dealing With Things To Come

Changes are afoot here on the Dociverse Blog, Gentle Readers. First off, starting on my birthday (Jan. 29) I’ll be doing more Doclopedia posts. how many more? Well, this year’s theme is 365 Days, 500 Entries. Yeah, I didn’t learn my lesson with 365/365.

Not all of the entries will be long ones. Many will be quite short, and not all will be part of a multi-day theme, although I will be tackling the alphabet again. As before, I will ask for reader submitted theme ideas every once in awhile on Facebook and/or Twitter.

I am also vowing to do at least one non-Doclopedia post per week and I hope to hell y’all will comment on them.

Finally, there may also be the odd bit of collaborative world building, which will benefit from, you know, your collaboration.

I hope y’all enjoy what will, no doubt, be a mind roasting 365 days for me. I can already predict that January 29, 2013 will find me partaking of strong drink and cackling with laughter.

PS: There will be some slight changes at the Fiction Blog, too. More on that later.

 

After The Change Came: Series 2

Sin In The City By The Bay

As you can see by the title of this entry, I’m in San Francisco. I’ve only just arrived a couple of hours ago after yet another day of painting butterflies and flowers for Mage Daphne. About noon, I had made up my mind that I needed some mental health time, so after knocking off work at 3:00, I went home to clean up, pack a few things and gather up Babe for a little jaunt to the Greatest City On Earth! A quick trip on the Sacramento to San Francisco Express and here we were.

Now, although The City is way different looking than it was back before The Change and my untimely death, it’s still a vibrant and exciting place…only greener and more like a bunch of small villages collected in the place where a big city used to be. All of the various neighborhoods are still here (Noe Valley, The Castro, Nob Hill, The Marina, Chinatown, etc) but they’re separated by greenbelts and woods and streams and such. You can still take public transportation just about anywhere 24/7, so you won’t see many cars.

And of course, there are still a zillion great places to eat, drink and meet up with people of your preferred sex. In my case, that person this visit would be Gina Torrance, fellow artist and QuestWorld teammate. Gina works primarily in watercolors and does some of the most beautiful landscapes you’ll ever see.

I’m ending this post because now that we’ve finished eating some fantastic Thai takeout and have Babe and Newton (Gina’s Smart Dog) set up with movies and snacks, we are getting dolled up and going out for dancing and drinks. I’ll be wearing pre-Change Vera Wang and looking good doing it.

More bloggage sometime tomorrow after sleeping in and then shoe shopping!

Now We Are Five

676A0152…because Sasha has come to stay

Doc, Grace, Lucy & Winker Cross are happy to announce the adoption of Miss Sasha Jane Cross as of 12:30 pm, Jan. 2nd, 2012.

Sasha is an approximately 3 year old, red and white Basset Hound. Her previous mom & dad both work, have 2 other dogs and have a 10 month old son, so they were unable to give her the attention she deserved. She is very healthy, although a tad on the skinny side. She is a very sweet girl, who seems to have no problems with her new sisters. She is whining a bit right now, because Grace left to get her a new collar and an ID tag.

Winker, and especially Lucy (our sweet little bag of neuroses), seem to be taking this new sister adoption pretty well. We have no doubt that they will soon be plotting mischief together.

Pictures of Sasha will go online soon.

Added note: Oddly, this is the second time we have adopted a new dog on the anniversary of the death of an old dog. Daisy left us three years ago today.

Note From March 2018: Sasha is still with us, still very healthy and the Alpha Bitch regardless of whatever other dogs come or go. She is sometimes a pain in the ass, but we love her very much.

Note From December 2019: Since the above update was posted, Sasha has lost all of her siblings. She will turn 11 in a few days. She is still healthy and sassy.

 

 

And now, your daily (we hope) does of fiction!

 

After The Change Came: Series 2

Sin And Filling You In

Hello there! Man, I’ve been a busy bee since my last post. As I mentioned, I’m an artist and most of what I’m doing lately involves painting murals on the inner and outer walls of the homes of Mages. My latest client is Mage Daphne out in Davis, California. Her thing (and all mages have a “thing”) is butterflies and flowers and her house is shaped like a vase full of assorted flowers with butterflies on them. It’s a big place, with 11 rooms in it, many of them with more than four walls. So far, I’m up to room #7 and when I’m done, I may never paint another damned butterfly as long as I live.

I got a few e-mails and v-mails asking for updates on various folks that Doc wrote about, so here you go.

Doc, as I stated last time, has a lot on his plate and he’s getting pretty twitchy. Every so often, I haul him off to go fishing and sampling various alcoholic beverages, which calms him down for a few days. Later this month, I’m going up north to Arcata with him on a combined Diplomatic mission/crab trapping trip.

Grace, bless her Gaia representing heart, is both the most beautiful and the healthiest pregnant woman I’ve ever seen. And that glow that Green Women give off is something to see. I was visiting one night and she went walking in the garden and she looked like some chlorophyll laced ghost. She has told us that the babies will be born on February, 14th, thus allowing the happy family to be at Dundracon on the 18th and proving that even Green Ladies can be big ol’ gaming geeks.

Lily has had her 13th birthday and has started high school. It’s a big indication of how much the Change really changed things when you find out that she loves it. When I was her age, I went to the coolest school on Earth…so cool it was the basis for a certain fictional school for Wizards & Witches…and it still sucked swamp water. But then again, I was just a boy, not a totally cute catgirl with a gaggle of friends, most of whom aren’t human.

Roscoe got married to Gigi in a very nice little ceremony attended by about 30 humanoids and 250 dogs, cats and other assorted Smart Animals (including four elephants). The house Doc had built for them is about a hundred yards behind Chez Cross and is very cute. Gigi had the puppies (April, May, June and Nick) 16 weeks ago and they are at about the same stage of mental development that 6 month old human would be at. They are also too cute for words.

Avis and Daniel had not planned a really huge wedding, but it’s working out that way. I really don’t know what they expected, since both of them have friends and business clients all over the world and up in space. The wedding will take place in the early spring in Hawaii and Doc has told them that he will foot the bill for the reception. Details of said reception to remain secret, save to say that I’m helping him plan it.

So there y’all go, an update on the major players hereabouts. I’ll blog more later after I go paint some more damned butterflies.

The Mostly True, Yet Still Pretty Unbelievable, Story Of Mostly Purple Patty And The Boys Who Stole Panties

…co-starring her pet guanaco, Pepe

You get Doclopedia and fiction today, kids! (Note: I’m posting the fiction from April, 2013, because I forgot to port it over from my now defunct fiction blog.)

 

The Doclopedia #391

Look What I Found!: High Fantasy Roleplaying Edition

Look, Ardex, there it is, just as the blind seer told us, the Greatsword of Hargan Lightbringer! Handed down to him by his father, Luvis the Just, king of the far land of Gloritania, this sword was blessed by the gods themselves at the start of the 6th Age, when the High Elves ruled the world. See how it glows with the Undying Light of Truth! Why, with this, we can travel back to Sarwenia and stop the hordes of the Troll king from destroying Emorilia, City of the Faithful and plunging our world into dar…

SSSSSHHHWWWIIIIPPPPP!!!! SSSSSHHHWWWIIIIPPPPP!!!!

Bloody great shots there, boys! Right in the throats! Those poor bastards never knew what hit ’em. Right then, let’s get those bodies stripped and those horses rounded up. I’ll grab that there greatsword. I reckon it’ll fetch top dollar at the marketplace in Boldar.

 


After The Change Came: Series 2

This is the second, but by no means the last, series of blog posts from the world where magic returned and geeks almost rule. This series is posted by Doc’s old friend, Sin, who is only recently returned to the land of the living and high fashion.

Sin And The Art Of Introduction

Hello, everybody and welcome to my blog. My given name is Ian, as in Ian Thomas Howard Mayhew IV (we like those long family names down south). However, you can call me Sin, as in Sindell Thomas, the name I gave myself when I came out as a transvestite all those decades ago. I’ll tell the story soon, I promise. I’m a human, not a Changed or Mutant or Mage or any of the other possibilities the Change wrought.

I’m a native of Charleston, South Carolina, where my family has lived since way before the Civil War, but I’ve lived here in California since I was 18. I have 3 sisters and a brother, plus my parents, still living. All of them but my younger sister Valentine (also a Human) got turned into gnomes during the Change. I have no ex-wives and no children that I’ve ever been told about. I do, as of a couple of months ago, have a Smart Rabbit named Babe as a roomie and non human kid. She’s still young, but seems to be picking up many of my traits. Time will tell how that works out for a young female bunny.

Now, before we go any further, let me just clear things up for those of you who may be a bit confused. I like to wear women’s clothing, but I am not gay. I also do not want to become female. I love women and I love my penis and I’ve found that those two things go together very well. Preferably, as often as possible. I don’t even care if it messes up my hair or makeup:)

So, I’ve sort of taken over blogging from my best old buddy, Doc Cross (AKA “Old Yellow Eyes”) while he is busy with about a million things (including becoming a nervous wreck) as he gets ready for the birth of his first ever human children, the wedding of our best female friend, adapts to being a grandfather to four Basset/Corgi Smart Dogs and deals with a young teenage catgirl daughter. Oh yes, and he still has to do Diplomatic things. I love the guy, but it’s pretty funny watching him melt down slowly. When he reads this, he will call me many rude names, but I’ll forgive him because he’s just an ignorant Yankee hippie.

Anyhow, if you’ve read any of Doc’s previous blogs, you’ll know that I used to be dead. Well, physically dead. I was done in by an undetected heart problem in 1994 at the tender age of 40. Imagine everybody’s surprise, not the least of which was mine, when I suddenly woke up to find that, in August of 1999 I had become something called a “Computer Guide”. I was alive, but living on the New Worldwide Web and tasked with helping Doc when he came online or had something for me to do. It was actually great fun, but I wanted to be corporeal again. There’s no sex or high fashion in Computer Guide land. Not that all of us Guides didn’t try, because we did.

How I got a body and got my life force back into it is a story for another day (as is the story about my death and what happened next), but for the last few months, I’ve been enjoying being back in the world. Thank you, Doc & Grace for keeping all of my old belongings in storage, even if it was mostly because you forgot about them after the Change hit. I’m also damned glad that the sperm donations I made to the United Nations Genetic Repository survived the Change, too.

Well, I’ve got to head off to work now. A artist’s work is never done. Talk to y’all later!