Snypiuer

Snypiuer disregards ALL warnings and simply notes - May get "snippy" if used as fuel source.

Are there any accounts of anyone "feeding" on or "harvesting" the Demosidhe to, simply, take their power, rather than partnering with them?

I've been skimming this in an attempt to get a feel for it while trying to lessen the spoiler effect. I'm ALSO trying really hard NOT to go back and read the original to freshen my memory on who is who beyond Harmony and Muse! From what I've allowed myself to absorb, I'm going to have to get the book sooner rather than later so I can actually READ this! That said, any idea when this one MIGHT be out? ** Snypiuer slowly reaches for a pointy stick as he glares at Harmony and Muse **🤨

The Bel'Vekian jumping turtle is, basically, a frog/turtle hybrid whos' origin is . . . disturbing. As we know, the Bel'Vekians have turned their planet into a giant science experiment in order to create weapons (or whatever may be desired) to sell to the highest bidder. They live in sterile labs that span the entirety of the planet, sealed off from its' atmosphere and protected from whatever survives within its environment. The Bel'Vekians have found that, simply ejecting their failed experiments and waste indiscriminately, can lead to discoveries never contemplated. The Bel'Vekian jumping turtle is the product of this practice. The Nevb Coalition of sector 7.23 of the Direliz Quadrant had commissioned a physical enhancement drug to allow their settlers to survive the higher gravity of several planets they had conquered and depopulated. The Bel'Vekian scientist used testosterone, the adrenal glands and pituitary glands of the giant marsh frogs to create a drug but it was far too powerful, causing grotesque physical changes that were incompatible with sustaining a colony. So, they dumped it. It didn't take long to totally contaminate the giant marsh frog population, leading to larger, more aggressive offspring. It was so devastating, within three generations, not only were all members of the species larger and more aggressive, not one female was produced. This is where it gets disturbing. The last generation of the giant marsh frog; larger, more aggressive, filled with testosterone and no . . . outlet, descended upon a large population of marsh turtles, eliminating all the males and . . . violating the females in an uncontrollable frenzy. It lasted, non-stop for days, until the last giant marsh frog expired from exhaustion. Like I said . . . disturbing. With all the contaminates in the environment, it was actually quite easy for cross species breeding to occur. Thus, we now have the Bel'Vekian jumping turtle. This unexpected outcome has also led to the creation of the Bel'Vekian: Monitor Sloth, Spider Worm, Tarantula Hamster and the surprisingly cuddly Centipede Wombat - among others. ** All animal names used are of the closest Earth animal equivalent of the actual Bel'Vekian species in appearance, in order to be able to visualize the subject **

Wait . . . when did I do this? Might have to rename - "Chronicles of a Procrastinator with ADD"🤪

Day 1:

Thanks for the info., just wanted to make sure there wouldn't be a problem with the Hello Kitty magnet stuck to the ricasso of my enchanted sword, Doris Nether Bane - Devourer of Demon Spleens. And, you know, just for NEXT time, it'd be helpful to some of us if you LEAD with the advice on protecting and securing your mind and dreams against evil and forgotten beings using them to enter our world . . . you know, for NEXT time. Now . . . kind of busy . . . have a bit of a . . . situation . . . let you know how it goes . . . maybe.😐

Coolness. since I'm not in IL., chances of recognizing me - slim! Anyways, let me know when you have definite schedules, and I'll send a bulk mail to let everyone know so those in that vicinity can have a heads up. If you have a virtual signing, at some point, I can send one for that also. Now, do you have an idea as to how many books will make up the Awakening series? Are you planning on an open-ended universe or a finite series? Finally, it won't be soon, but I do plan on buying several (not a lot, a few) and then harassing you for an address so I can send them to you to sign them. One for me and a couple, or so, to give away - I plan on using them to TRY to get more participation.😉

Is feromantic iron magnetic? Are any of these metals magnetic? If yes, once enchanted, does a magnet have any effect on the enchantment?

Snypiuer hands Harmony a pointy stick and sings the Ramones "Beat on the Brat". When you find it at B&N, the books' cover looks SURPRISINGLY like the Pens' present background - weird, huh? One question: Will we be getting previews of your second book!? Any plans for book signings? If yes, in-person or virtual? If no, will/are signed copies available/obtainable? Does Snypiuer understand the concept of "ONE" question? If yes . . . does he . . . REALLY!?🤔

You are driving late at night. It is pitch black. Solid cloud cover. No rain. No moon. No stars. You somehow find yourself on a small backroad that you've never been on. Your car suddenly dies. You are plunged into complete darkness except for a faint light you can barely perceive through your passenger door window. You look at your phone, no service. At that moment, chain lightning flashes across the sky, clearly illuminating everything around you for several seconds, allowing you to notice that there is literally nothing as far as you can see in every direction except for a small, rundown 2 story house that you have, somehow, broken down right in front of. When the lightning stops and all is once again black, you realize the faint light comes from the window in the top story of the house. You use the light on your phone to make your way to the house. It is dead quiet. The front door ajar. You enter. You call out, "Hello!? My car broke down, can I use your phone to call for a tow truck!?" No answer. Your phone light starts to dim. You quickly look for a light switch along the wall. You find it and flick on the lights. A harsh light bathes the interior and there, in the center of the room, glaring at you with the most unsettling leers you never could've even imagined are: Willem Dafoe, Christopher Walken and Steve Buscemi. They look unwashed, each wearing tattered wife-beaters, dungarees and worn, faded shoes. Their leers turn to sly grins. It becomes crystal clear. They've been waiting. For you . . . specifically. What do you do?

Snypiuers' laptop was returned a while back. It came back with an attitude - Snypiuer was running Windows 10 and did NOT want to upgrade to 11 (which he STATED in the paperwork), but it was upgraded and now, Snypiuer can't find the original product key to reinstall 10. So Snypiuer was FORCED to apply his pointiest poking stick in order to reeducate said laptop and remind it as to its' PROPER place. On a side note, and TOTALLY unrelated to ANY actions Snypiuer may or may not have taken, Snypiuer will be attending therapy for "Aggression Management". O.K., TECHNICALLY, it's "court ordered", but completely unnecessary and merely a misunderstanding on the part of a CERTAIN individual *stares at niece*, who overreacted and notified LPS (Laptop Protective Services). Niece: You were ABUSING it with that stick you found outside, while yelling at it and saying words that I, as a CHILD, should NOT be hearing! Snypiuer: IT GOT A NEW SSD, BATTERY AND KEYBOARD AND SUDDENLY IT THINKS IT'S BETTER THEN . . . Niece: *Cutting Snypiuer off* HEY! What did the therapist say!? Snypiuer stares at niece. Takes a deep breath. Counts to 10. Slowly releases breath. Anyways, Snypiuer also had a backlog of emails he had to go through (we've already gone over WHY Snypiuer HAS to go through EVERY email, so we will not reiterate that here) and has FINALLY gone through them all. Now, Snypiuer just has to overcome his natural laziness, propensity to procrastinate and tendency to . . .

Snypiuer finds his laptop barely alive. Snypiuer pokes laptop with a stick. Snypiuer does a "Make laptop strong" dance. Snypiuer pokes laptop with another, pointy-er stick. Snypiuer yells at laptop. Snypiuer threatens laptop. Snypiuer attempts to gaslight laptop by insisting it's the laptops' fault Snypiuer is angry with it. Snypiuer apologizes, says he'll change, he'll treat the laptop better. Snypiuer pokes laptop with an even pointy-er stick. Snypiuer berates laptop. Snypiuer's niece walks in. Niece: ""What's the problem!? Snypiuer: *As he yells at laptop and viciously pokes it with his pointy laptop poker* "BAD! BAD LAPTOP!!" Niece: "Didn't you get the extended warranty?" Snypiuer: *Stops berating and poking laptop and stares at niece* "Ummm" Snypiuer checks. Snypiuer explains to laptop that if it hadn't of made Snypiuer so angry, Snypiuer wouldn't have been so harsh with it but, even though it's the laptops' fault and since Snypiuer is such a good person, it should appreciate that Snypiuer will send it in for repairs. Niece: "You're weird." *Gently pats laptop* "Good laptop, don't listen to the meany." Snypiuer will check-in when possible! No idea how long will be without laptop.

Roll for initiative?!🧙‍♂️

*Knock-Knock* You: Who's there? Death.💀 You: Ummm . . . Death?!😱 Yeah, you got 15 minutes. Sooo, tell you what; Imma go smoke some cigs, have a beer, and I'll see you in *checks his watch*, 15 . . . 'kay then *walks away*. WHAT DO YOU DO?☠️

The Banal, Everyday Doings of Some Random Dude and . . . Who's That? I'm thinking a couple of people who are constantly on the fringe of monumental happenings, yet completely oblivious to it. They're the people in historic pictures or videos that are always looking the other way or paying total, rapt attention to whatever is absolutely ordinary and trivial, rather than the vastly important and consequential - so-much-so, that they NEVER have even the slightest idea of what they missed. I can't figure out a way to flesh out a story for it, BUT if I could, I'm afraid I'd have to call it an autobiography!

O.K., I've been considering your point of view for a while and have a few questions: What if you take your time and your cereal begins to turn mushy and loses cohesion, blending with the milk? What if you add cut up fresh fruit, like strawberries, blueberries, etc. and the juice blends with the milk and the cereal absorbs some? What about cereal that changes the milks color or taste? Would any of these situations make it a soup? If yes, is it then, just a matter of how long the ingredients are combined that dictates a cereals' "soup-ness"? If it can BECOME soup, at what point does it? Does eating it quickly keep it from being a soup, while eating it slowly allows it to become one? If combining the ingredients begins the process of it becoming a soup, couldn't it then be considered a soup at that moment? If an individual CHOOSES to eat it quickly in order to stop it from becoming a soup, can that individual be considered "pro-choice" in terms of cereal being a soup or not? If an individual eats it slowly because they believe that it is soup from the moment the ingredients are combined, can that individual be considered "pro-soup"? FINALLY, and this comes down to the true heart of the matter, who is right: pro-choice or pro-soup?!

HELP!!! Just heard a question posed on a T.V. show and I can NOT stop thinking about it, here it is: Is cereal a soup?

Reach out. I'm O.K. I tell myself. Another day. In my life. I don't know if I will be able to make it. Another day. Or any more. When every day. And all before. Are the same. When despite how I try nothing changes. Time to start. Another day. That's the same. Like all before. In my life. Just hoping I will be able to make it. One more day.

I find myself roaming the city late at night lately. Wandering the backstreets, seeing what I can see. I find violence and the outcasts mainly. Along with the lost and those, society would call freaks. Late at night, in the dark the city is another world At least, that's the way it seems. Filled with loneliness, reaching for someone to hold onto. A sadness, built on broken dreams. Beneath the neon, deep within the shadows is a yearning A reflection of what was or what could be. And though it feels as if an emptiness is seeping Somehow, I still feel it calling out to me. A solemn knelling that echoes through the city. One that rumbles low and deep. A Siren call that can't be fought as it entrances. A lullaby of a different sleep. It slowly fades away as sunlight seeks to wake the city. Mornings kiss, releases the city's hold, we are free. The city grows quiet, as the dark of night begins receding. A silent hesitation before the ending of a dream.

I got this from Dan Lewis' "Now I Know" newsletter and REALLY found it informative. No need to know WHY I find it informative - by the way, it didn't work (who'd a thunk that cats would pass out when dropped from an airplane!?) In the book "Nuking the Moon and Other Intelligence Schemes and Military Plots Left on the Drawing Board" by Vince Houghton, the historian and curator of the International Spy Museum explained how cat-guided bomb would work: The bomb was based on the undisputed premises that (a) cats always land on their feet and (b) hate water. The plan was to hang a poor kitty in a harness, from the bottom of a bomb, with some kind of device that allowed said kitty's movements to guide the bomb as it fell. If you dropped it in the vicinity of a naval target (such as a German battleship), then the cat's natural instinct would be to think, "Holy hell, I'm falling into water. I hate water, so let's try to land somewhere dry. Like that German battleship over yonder." And then BOOM! Suicide kitty is a martyr to the cause.

THANKS! That is about the best complement one can get. The fact that I just threw it together in order to figure out the cadence in my head and others say they feel it pertains to them, well, just thanks. It's even more amazing to me since I, myself, don't feel it pertains to ME at all, because when it comes to MY childhood dreams, up to now I have accomplished . . . hmmm . . . well . . . . . . aww, craps.

O.K., I started to hear a cadence in my head. I was trying to figure out what the cadence was from, because it seemed so familiar. So, I put some random words to it and came up with this poem. It, kind of, makes sense. A bit jumbled and disjointed if you ask me and I, kind of, feel it's not complete but I'm just going to claim it's nuanced and evocative. And yes, that one word you think I misspelled is spelled correctly - told you . . . nuanced and evocative. Once I finished it, I stared at it for a while and suddenly it hit me, the cadence is from a song. It's not the whole song, just bits and pieces that repeat, instead of flowing in the proper order. I haven't heard it in years but must have recently heard it in the background somewhere. Once I figured it out, I started to think of different directions I could go, but decided to leave it as is because, right now, it's INSPIRED by the song. I believe a rewrite would just end up being a Weird Al-esque parody. Let me know if I've managed to write it in a way that lets you hear the cadence and figure out the song. Remember, it's just snippets that repeat and not in order. Hints: Pop; part spoken word; old but not an "Oldie" (Motown, doo-wop, etc.); singer-songwriter. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ We had dreams, when we were young. About all the things, we would have done. By now. As time passes by, dreams they die, And we find ourselves where we're at, Somehow. Childhood dreams are lost. Or simply fade away. We tell ourselves that it's o.k. They were only bits of childish games We once played. Late at night, When everything is still. An emptiness, deep inside. No matter how hard we try, We just can't feel. A lifetime spent, Seemingly lost And alone. A wasted life of wasted time Wasting every chance to find A home. We had so many dreams Once When we were young. Dreams of all the wonderous things. That By now We wish We had done.

Don't know the story, just the premise: A colony of lemmings are growing up on the mean trails while living on the wrong side of the fence. There's an old . . . rabbit? . . . maybe a mole or gopher? . . . I don't know . . . whatever, it tells stories about the times before the fence. Not sure which side is actually the "wrong" side. Is the outside free while the inside is like a prison, where there is constant fear of homeowners and pets? Or is it the other way around? Living outside is constant fear of coyotes or traffic while inside there's a garden and plenty of water? Just don't make it an Outsiders or even a Blackboard Jungle knockoff. Also, there CAN NOT be ANY character that wears a leather jacket, has sleepy eyes and is prone to brooding and angstingly (d*mn skippy I made that word up!) shouting phrases like, "You're tearing me apart!" NO REBEL WITHOUT A CAUSE-ING! A nod to The Lords of Flatbush or American Graffiti would be acceptable, but just a nod.