concepts for a buntiful world
Friday, August 29
da da di, do do
da da do do da da di.

- posted by Buntifer @ 8/29/2003 12:50:00 pm
Ha Ha Ha Ha HA Heiku...

in fact:

ha ha ha ha ha,
ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
ha ha ha ho ho...

a laughing haiku. PLease send other submissions to: Jon Burrough, Cardinal Tower, 12 Farringdon Road, London, EC1M 3NN

ha ha ha ha ha
there is nothing to laugh about, but it is supposed to be good for you.
Cingaro tua madre
- posted by Buntifer @ 8/29/2003 08:06:00 am
Thursday, August 28
Ms Cinzia Halfyard was a halfling, three foot two with a tightly braided chestnut brown pony tail down the back of her head. The clothes she wore suited the expression upon her face, a vacant cheerful grin. With this plastered in place she was almost impossible to dislike, good cheer shining through the worst of weathers and the most vicious fights. As such she was the right person to be keeping a bar in the dock ward of Waterdeep. She was pretty enough to draw the eye of every man in her taproom but as a halfling avoided unwanted attentions from any but the shorter of the clientele. Those that knew Cinzia knew also that she avoided the attention of nearly anything, including guards and wards when she so desired.

It had been, she reflected, too long since she last passed her eye across a really challenging ward. The wizards in town nowadays were getting sloppy, using more and more powerful wards and more and more of them when one or two well placed ones would be far more effective and much less dangerous to the guarded item. She knew of three seperate occasions where the blast or other side effects of wards in place to protect noblemen had left them severely wounded, two where the protected party had died and one where a magical amulet had gone up in sympathetic detonation and taken out two fairly sizeable sloops. She had watched that one from the doorway of her inn. The flames had caused the figurehead above the door of the inn to creak and begin swaying on its chains. It was a heavy piece of timber too, far heavier than she, that she had removed from the boat of her late husband. It was an ugly figure head and lent the inn its name, "the squinting mermaid." Cinzia hated it, and had indeed extracted her revenge from the artist fifteen years ago, when it had been newly installed upon its ship and her husband had set forth to ply his trade up and down the Sword coast. Cinzia always thought the mermaid had been painted to have a distinct likeness to her in a bad mood, the artist had lost all his materials, paints, brushes and easel, along with his hair, his clothes and four finished paintings. He had left Waterdeep quickly. Cinzia still had his equipment, and painted a little too, nowadays. His paintings had been worth more for the frames than the art, and his hair, well, that had simply been a whim.

She sniffed, she could smell a dwarf coming. She hurried back inside the bar and readied a large mug. She had a reputation to maintain.
- posted by Buntifer @ 8/28/2003 06:58:00 pm
Neverwinter nights is to be released in a format so that it can be played on mobile phones. Cool as fuck and so much cooler than fcuk its unbelievable.

Elephants trampling on the brains of squealing mice?
Anyone for scrabble, wouldn't that be nice...

god, death to all people who use the nokia ring tone on their phones

and torment to those who keep the ringers on while in the office

and may torment be also on the loved ones of those who then leave their desks just before someone really persistent rings them.....


- posted by Buntifer @ 8/28/2003 12:51:00 pm
mmm...ideas of the inferno tumble through the blue sky, like a trapeze artist haemhorraging sanity. Pretty girls fly through windows like grenades full of corned beef. One, singular monkey sits in the corner typing Jeffrey Archer novels, depressed at the fact he will never be more than a mockery of a writer. The rotting pile of mould and slime in the corner is what remains of Einsteins brain, it escaped and never made it in the wild.

Nine months is the only answer to the "Danger" signs on the doorways.

Challanti shet mellian dreich unswerwarder.

So be careful with your broccoli.
- posted by Buntifer @ 8/28/2003 08:30:00 am
Wednesday, August 27
I am Spartacus.....

and because I don't have comments I am still Spartacus...

Bollocks.... bollocks... bollocks...
bollocks... bollocks...
bollocks... bollocks... bollocks...

aaah...little things eh?
- posted by Buntifer @ 8/27/2003 03:20:00 pm
If you hear this google search for Popex...a trading game in which you can by bands with virtual money and trade in their shares.

Put in your Mentor number as 125709 that means I get a little credit for recommending you, which would be nice. It is quite difficult playing according to music taste unless you like crap, although this week, surprisingly Good Charlotte, and Linkin Park went up, and Evenescence fucking skyrocketed. Unfortunately I had no Evanescence shares...but what the fuck.

Anyway: T-Shirt of the week: Reduce boredom, kill a Catholic...
- posted by Buntifer @ 8/27/2003 01:58:00 pm
...and so the focus moves to us, whereby it had been about those few others it changes view, and flips across our scarred visage to rest its eyes upon our actions...

We klem suupe gerenhein ous, bud classische drenne elk allanti. Quall stoor mise gun ilt tresen gidelbilche trannamaria. Whem ilt allarendo derrt griste. Showne clinne acht duvee, malle inne cadazione.

Well, better luck next time...
- posted by Buntifer @ 8/27/2003 08:44:00 am

- posted by Buntifer @ 8/27/2003 08:44:00 am

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