Well here we are again,
Not much has transpired between now and since my last blog, oh I got banned on facebook again for having wrong opinions but that happens so often it doesn’t even bare mentioning anymore. Also I watched thor ragnarok, stupid jokes aside, I rather liked it so don’t feel the need to write a cathartic review about it. I really don’t enjoy gushing over something I like unless it really highlights something pivotal I think the human experience or something artsy fartsy like that.
I only really want to write negative reviews because it feels like I’m exorcising those bad films out of my system by dissecting them. I’m trying to understand what made them so bad and how I can avoid those pitfalls in my own work. And although I could do the opposite with good movies, it’s less fun and funny and I’d prefer to keep the good stuff secret. So you the audience at home will never know why I liked Thor Ragnarok, I know right, it’s a crying shame, everyone is just clambering to know my opinion of a movie that’s already yesterdays news haha.
Besides that I finished to some degree a basic outline for what are set to be five books so far in the Cur series, could be six, it’s still very rough. Also been playing Gwent again, that cursed addiction and I’m thinking of stopping reading blood and elves or just skipping it. It’s probably the most tedious book I’ve ever read.
I was memeing before when I said I was halfway through and the only thing that’s happened is Ciri got her period. Now I actually am at the 150th page and literally all that’s happened is Dandelion got kidnapped for a bit and saved by Yennefer, then Triss goes to Kaer Morhen has some weird visions then they go to take Ciri to a monastery type thing but Triss gets a tummy ache on the way.
That is literally what has happened in a 150 pages of the second witcher book. He hasn’t met a monster, Geralt, actually no one has drawn a sword in the entire book. I’m not even counting the kidnapping as a fight. And I think what’s more is the writer who’s name I wont even attempt to spell knew this book was boring that’s why he put Ciri escaping Cintra at the start and the Dandelion kidnapping in. So people wouldn’t think that a sequel to a book about a monster slayer was actually a book about a babysitter or a nurse maid, because that’s all Geralt has done so far.
But what’s worse is those parts at the beginning aren’t even good, the cintra bit was generic fluff I basically skimmed and the Dandelion bit seems kind of superfluous now that I’m halfway through the book and it hasn’t come back at all.
I really genuinely just feel no drive at all to read this book and I just force myself for ten minutes at a time to read it, which is why it’s taking so damn long to finish, this is without a doubt the longest it’s taken me to read a book ever.
I’m not someone that reads books especially fast, I like to take my time, I sometime reread parts just to fully experience them but I’m pretty consistently devouring books and I get through a far few. And what with putting them on my phone it’s become even easier just to use every free moment to do so, but I don’t find myself wanting to with this crap. I’m just forcing myself to read this filler.
Nevertheless, I’ll continue to slog it out in the hope the next book can redeem it.
I have rambled enough, time to do some actual work, been dying to do the scene structuring for the first Cur book and fingers crossed I might even start writer the fucker some time this year haha.
Zomnision watched the police station station burn. The fires reflecting in his now glassy expressionless eyes. His face was blown out and distended and looked something a kin to a Spanish omelette.
But he was pleased with himself, he wasn’t a fake anymore, he was a real psychic, a god, a zombie god. Accustomed to such, he’d given up walking. Opting instead to lounge his aching exposed joints to a throne of soft furries. Their bodies interlocked by his will. The base of which took their weight. They crawled along at the speed of a caterpillar in the midst of the thousand strong throng of his cult like followers. A sea of colourful characters wreaking havoc across the small town. Striking in unison as if they were a sword in his own hand, organised and merciless and kind of cute.
“Soon” He whispered “First this town, and then the world shall know my power is real”.
A strange disruption, a silver flash, furries flying in the air like an explosion in a build a bear store. Fluff raining down as this slim flash of sliver cut a path straight forward.
“What is that?” Zomnision said.
The Lancer was fast and precise, moving like a sliver of silver caught in an updraft. A living scalpel to cut out the cancer.
“You dare strike at me?”
The furries moved in a wave, surrounding the Lancer. Thousands of them piling all over him, moving as if connected, forming shapes even. Moving like the waves of an ocean battering against the Lancer. Pulling him down.
Zomnision’s face flaps jiggled as he laughed a cheesy comic book villain laugh.
The light forming in the cracks of the furry horde launched them upwards. A splash of them flying through the air like water particles. Fluff and blood and gore levitating for brief flashes. Silver sparks flashing inbetween brief pops of activity. The Lancer climbed the furries. He hopping them as they floated like stepping stones in some vertical zen garden. Cutting a swath closer and closer, an unstoppable immovable object colliding with mortality. A train with no tracks to rend bones to dust.
Zomnision was overwhelmed. His powers burgeoning on godhood but caught with his trousers down. His full potential a glimmer in his eye. The throne he was sitting on started to subsume him. The furries lifted and covered him. Interlocking like some horrible mix between power rangers and barnie the dinosaur. Forming on him like living armour fluffy armor. But it was too late, the Lancer had no time. No monologue would hold him back to witness some final transformation. This was a hurdle, a hiccup to correct before moving on.
He straddled the furry well, bubbling with activity like a rainbow anthill. He reached his metallic long claw deep into the pile. A crunching snapping noise like he was pulling a tooth and it came out spiked on his three pronged claw.
The head of the fake psychic.
The Lancer looked at it and smiled with his eyes. The pile of furry started to crumble and disperse. He walked down it as it collapsed like a poorly made sandcastle. He took the misshapen mushy excuse for a head. Placing it in some kind of sack made of an metallic alloy and affixed to his hip and continued on.
The furries seemed disinterested in the tall silver man. Their demeanors hadn’t changed. No magical spell was caste slaying the head vampire so easily, the effects were the same. They were still dead, sort of, and they were still furries. But now they were regular zombies, hungry and directionless. That was until an ear cracking explosion caught their attention over the horizon.
Suddenly filled with purpose. The now stringless zombie furries shambled in the general direction of the noise.
The Lancer watched them go and let out a robotic tinny laugh.
The donut shop was shredded by a large explosion. The giant metal donut on top was still connected on top just a little singed but still standing. The supports of the heavy donut groaning and shrieking under it’s weight.
The cooling barrel of a clip fed grenade rifle smoked in Juanitas hands. She held it in front of her crotch like a giant metal strapon.
“Nita why’d you blow up the donut shop?” Jaclyn screeched.
Juanita was shaking with her eyes closed. Satisfied sweat dripping down her pasty face as she held the giant rifle between her legs. She shook her head and opened her eyes coming out of it and said “Huh o-what?” She got snotty instantly, reaching back for that nasally vocal fry. “That and places like that victimize people of size like myself. Using their biology against them to make them fat”. She was panting a little and she dropped the guns stock to the ground. Holding herself up with it like a crutch and then said “Oh and I call dibs on this”.
Kat was loading up a mach ten looking down the sights of the compact sub machine gun. She cocked her head to the side and said “You can keep it honey, I don’t want anything to do with that thing.”
“Yeah too phallic, and too- black” Roch said as she cocked a pistol grip shotgun.
Kat looked back at her giving her the side eye but Roch didn’t look up as she loaded the compact shotgun.
Jaclyn looked at the large rifle Junita was leaning on. It looked like a huge sniper rifle, almost the length of the girl leaning on it. She differed to the users manual “Copperhead anti-tank rifle” She recited.
Juanita snatched the users manual off her and threw it into the gutter. “No one looks at these, just take this.” She said as she shoved a small pistol into Jaclyn’s hand.
“Wwwwait, I’ve never!”
“Oh stow it, if straight white men can do it then so can you girlfriend.” Juanita said clicking her fingers still leaning one hand on the large rifle.
“I guess.” She said looking down at it. She lifted her head and said “We need to get moving, they’re watching us for sure now. If we want to complete our mission we need to move fast.”
“Ok, but let me fire off another round first.” Juanita said as she lifted the huge gun with both hands burying the stock into her warm sweaty crotch. Gripping it with her huge thighs. “Ooh” She shivered as she stroked up the long black shaft fingering the trigger.
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