Morgan Freeman…

lost his step-granddaughter today, and what ASTOUNDS me is not that he had a step-anything (people DO get married, and even my favorite actor cannot be dictator to his own family, nor is he an otherworldly being – marriages and divorces HAPPEN), but rather, the comments I read when I went to his Facebook page to leave my condolences.

There were references to his perceived (real or not) atheism.  There was a question about whether the child’s killer was “a mexican or a illegal”.  Some people were arguing in the comments section about whether or not Mr. Freeman’s step-granddaughter had done something to deserve what had happened to her -deserved to be stabbed and left laying in the street like human garbage.

GOD DAMN IT.  Enough.  If Jesus the Christ were alive today, I swear he’d spend half his time punching you little pink and brown fools upside the heads to shake your common sense loose, and the other half doing it to shake your DECENCY loose.   Seriously.  Your species would try the patience of God, Godself.

One’s religion or lack thereof is one’s OWN business, even if one is a world-famous actor, or the President. A comments column for death condolences is NO place to start a fight over a political issue.   And to suggest that a victim caused herself to be murdered, whether there’s truth in it or not, is absolutely class-less.  Show some kindness.  Show some respect.

Grrr.  And Sunday was going so WELL.

Uncle Cranky is

In pain, which is normal, but happy, because the GirlFiend loved the small gifts I got her for her birthday.  She does a lot for me, and always has, so it gives me joy to give her what I can.  It turns out that she’s worked herself sick the past few days, trying to move into her new apartment.  I have repeatedly offered to let her stay here, but she says it’s too small, and to tell the truth, she’s right.

This building is just the right size for me and three cats, with an occasional visitor overnight.  Even at that, it can be uncomfortable.  I am used to having things a certain way, and dislike having to move things about.

Did I say THREE cats?  Yes, my little buddy Houdini is once more here!  He came to stay when Demon-Kitty Bowie did, but unlike little Pazuzu, Houdini is perfectly at home here with Raisin and Elph and me.  He has yet to sit for a proper photograph, but he IS here.

Working my way through the Deluxe Tunnels & Trolls rulebook, I’ve found charts for wandering monsters, treasure generation charts, suggestions for themes for adventures… Everything BUT detailed, simple instructions, so far anyway, about actually CREATING a dungeon or adventure.  There IS  a section in elaborations that talks about mapping tools available online, and that’s a good first step, but the ones I’ve seen are unsuitable for forests or caverns – so far.

Anyway, my shoulder is hurting, and the cats are crying.  Time to feed them and see what’s on the telly.

Uncle Cranky sick.

I have been shaky and in pain all morning, and am having diarrhea and vomiting – that I’m sick is not in doubt.  Now I’m stuck having to reschedule (AGAIN) a dentist’s appointment because I can’t quit heaving and shitting.  If I knew what was causing this, I’d bite the people who gave it to me.  Maybe I could give them rabies or septicemia.

That would serve their inconsiderate asses right.  People, when you are sick, STAY HOME.  The customers whom you serve and passers-by on the street or stores have done nothing to you to deserve your illness.   If you REALLY want revenge for something, go breathe on your fucking boss.  When SHE’S puking her guts out, THEN she’ll understand.

Cranky The Troll hops

Out of the Digital TrollCave with the GirlFiend for a couple hours today.  I wish I could say it was for fun stuff, but no, just bills.  We went to get tobacco & groceries, and then she brought me home.  After watching some shows (lots of shows) about 9 pm I snuck to Super-WalMart to get her a birthday gift or three – I didn’t want to risk her seeing me out, which is why I went so late.

What  happened to Demon-Kitty, you ask?  The GirlFiend came and got him yesterday afternoon, after MUCH anguish on his part – he didn’t WANT to leave his nice, safe bathroom cabinet under the sink.   I’m told he assumed much the same attitude when he got to his NEW home.  We’re waiting for a day or two before sending Houdini over there, too, for two reasons:

1. To give little Pazuzu time to acclimate, calm down, and find all the BEST hiding spots, and

2. Because I love Houdini and I don’t WANNA give him up again, even if it IS to the GirlFiend. Wah!

That and a lot of snoozing is about what happened today.  I stayed up all night last night, so no wonder I was so tired.

Anyway, love and all the best traps, really.

Uncle Cranky

Cranky The Troll Speaks

     In fairness, it’s only out in PDF format right now, though (hopefully), it WILL be out in softcover from Flying Buffalo by the end of this month.   

     Every gamer I know of has been waiting for this for the better part of 3 years.  It’s Ken St. Andre’s magnum opus, with expert editing and beautiful art by Liz Danforth & Steve Crompton, – even if you DON’T play table-top Fantasy Role-Playing Games, the humor, history, and settings discussed make this a wonderful purchase at about $20 US for the PDF, (available at RPGNet.com) or about 40 for the bound edition.   If you ARE a gamer, this IS the edition you’ve been waiting for – and far less expensive than the latest offering of D&D.   EVERYTHING is here, and the support materials are ALREADY becoming (or ARE) available.

In other stuff, I’ve been playing host for the past three days to my GirlFiend’s cats, Houdini and Bowie the Psychotic, while the GirlFiend moves.  Houdini has been well-behaved, toddling to the front for dinner, and trying to socialize with Elph, Raisin, and me.  Bowie…

Ah, well, when he got here, Bowie crouched in his pet taxi and exhibited symptoms of having gone tharn, while Raisin glared at him  from top-of-couch.  When the door was opened, he gave a strangled-sounding hiss, and promptly found his way here (to the digital Trollcave) where he hid in the closet for a few hours on top of a box of comics on my shelf.  Following dinner, which he refused, he decided that under the desk was where it all was happening, behind the footstool.  Houdini, Raisin, and Elph all sauntered past to get a good look at him, and Houdini actually camped out across the hall, staring at him until 10 pm, by which time, Bowie was five steps past homicidal.  He spent the night there, hissing, spitting, and shoving the footstool at passers-by.  Beginning in the morning, I “chased” him out of there, fearing for the safety of my hind hooves, whereupon he decided under the tea-table in the living room was suitable for a fort.

    That didn’t last.  No, not for long.  He next esconced under the bed, which lasted for most of the second day, until he apparently decided he HAD to use the litter-box.  I was asleep at the time, it being after midnight on the 1st of August (having gone to sleep July 31st), and was awakened by the horrendous racket that ensues when one cat pursues another to the top of the laundry machines in the hall.

     The racket didn’t stop.  Bowie had overshot his mark, and landed behind the dryer, where he was hung up on the power cord, and so panicked that he was trying to dismantle both machines by paw. I tried to call the GirlFiend – those of you who know me, know I have arthritis, and moving large contraptions has become painful – but for the third time since I’ve known her, she apparently decided to abandon her phone someplace FAR from where she was sleeping.  I left a rude message after the second attempt, and went to move the dryer myself, which hurt my right shoulder and back.  Thankfully, Bowie took the hint and retired to parts unknown for the rest of the night.

    In the morning, I discovered WHERE, when trying to retrieve a roll of tp from the cabinet under the bathroom sink.  He has since been found lurking under the bed again, in the bedroom closet, in a canvas grocery sack, and again, under the bathroom sink, this morning.  I DON’T know whether the poor thing has eaten or drank since arriving, or even if he knows where the food may be found.  He’s been in a continuous state of shock, trauma, and rage since arriving.

Cranky The Troll Speaks.

Howdy, all.

My GirlFiend has returned from the hospital, licking her chops in a most satisfactory manner.  Not coincidentally, there are a number of (allegedly) missing quacks, creepies, and nursies missing from said hospital.

There was a bacterial infection, they claimed, of the bones of her neck and the bloodstream.  Stapholococcus Dermis was blamed.  This bug is the stuff that makes your skin so soft, and not scaly – it’s beneficial – but it’s supposed to stay on the outside of the body.  Apparently, it decided to make her insides as soft and supple as her outside.   Hopefully the peo – SNACKS,  I mean snacks, of course, she ate while imprisoned have changed matters somewhat.

Hi there.

When I woke up this morning, there was snow, and the temperature had dropped a good twenty degrees from yesterday at the same time.   There were crows, plural, a pair of them, hopping about the yard and scrounging the seeds and corn I put out, and which the squirrels (in their INFINITE discrimination) had either refused to eat or had decided to eat just the hearts out of – leaving less nutritious and delicious parts for other, lesser beings.   After all, it takes real brains and courage to burgle corn and seeds from a birdfeeder nailed to a porch rail, all by itself, with no fence or gating mechanism.

Raisin was there, of course, at my feet, crying about the fact that it had been almost 6! Whole! Hours! since she’d received, not one, but a whole handful, of treats.   I do spoil that cat.

I’m writing this at 7:11 a.m. Central Standard Time on December 25, 2014.  For those who don’t know me, I’m sitting  in a dark office in my home in Ames, Iowa, the USA.

I’m 54 this year, which is an absurd age for me to have reached in my opinion.  The sun has not risen yet, today, and it would be reckoned by most people in this world to be cold outside, but I am warm.   I have spent the night snuggled with the woman I love, and two felines who have decided that I am THEIR human.   I’m happy and cheerful.  I’ve been singing, and if I die today, it will be an end to be craved, for at last I have found a home and a little bit of family all my own – an odd family, to be sure, but a family, nevertheless.

I love you all, and wish you nothing but joy on this Christmas Day.

Have a happy day,

dB