Sunday, May 31, 2009

Is Good Gluckernuggin Foods

It'd been nearly two years since I'd been in her cooking shop - lotta miles, lotta scars, lotta haircuts in that time, but she recognized me right away.

"Ah-hahahaha! Ratshag! How you doin', mon?"

"Can't complain, Zamja. How's the cookin' business treatin' ya?"

"Same ol', same ol', mon. But look at you! I remember some scrawny little orc-chile who couldn't handle the spices, and now? Outland Gourmet, Northrend Gourmet... Hail to the Chef, mon."

"Well, thankee, hon. Oh, and Awilo Lon'gomba sez fer ta send his regards."

"That ol' hash slinger. Mon, I surprised he ain't got half of Dalaran down with the ptomaines! Ah-hahahaha!"We spent us some time then, catching up and all. She showed me some of her new experimental Dig Rat Kabobs, and I told her about learning ta bake Vrykul Waffles out in the wilderness. Afters, we went up stairs fer a little private lesson of Zamja Trollop à la Ratters. Were a nice way fer ta celebrate me new title. 

Thursday, May 28, 2009

Is Where Ratters Is The Best Minion Ever

Hi, everyone! Ellspeth here.

Do you like my new hat? I think it's very cunning. It says, "Here is a liberated young woman who knows what she wants, and will totally destroy your body and soul if you don't satisfy her." No, really, it does.

Ratters got it for me, by fishing out in Northrend. Now fishing sounds easy, but he had to do lots of icky things like bathe in caribou blood and crawl around in the sewers. One time, he even had to find some dude's arm that had been bitten off and left in some fish's stomach all night. His arm! Yuch! I really don't understand Northrend fishing - I've never had to do anything like that to fish, not even in Stranglethorn. But Ratters did it all, just so he could get me this hat. Isn't he the bestest minion ever? He even has an easy to remember name, unlike Jerzewutever here. I'm totally going to keep him .... uh ... around ....

Ratters, what's that Marcia just gave you? It's so sparkly! Thank you - I'll treasure it always, and-

Auction House? 800 gold? But Ratters, I waaaaannnnt it.

Minion! Gimme!

Ratters? Raaaaaatterrrrrrrsssss.

Please? Sparkly?

I'll steal your soul last, I promise!

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Because Ya Can't Have Too Much Rimunathah

The Purge's resident fireball chucker Rimunathah done come ta me , asking if he could borrow me blog and say somethin' what been bothering him. I said "Why the fuhg not?" So here be me good friend Rim - say hello you buggers, and listens up:

Before I begin, I would like to take a moment and thank the estimable Mr. Shag for graciously allowing me to use his blog. Despite what some people say, I find him to be a generous and capable orc. He has deflected many a blow on my behalf and I am grateful.

That said, I want to climb upon this virtual soapbox and decry a practice that too many observe, an offense upon my people that has gone on too long unremarked. Trolls are the victims of a stereotype, a caricature of a provincial island cannibal who prefers the letter “d” over most any other in the alphabet. If the slander is to be believed, then we trolls are little better than baby-eating hicks. What is particularly shocking is that this prejudice festers among the Horde. One expects little better from the Alliance, but not from one’s compatriots.

I want to state unequivocally that nothing could be farther from the truth. We are an educated, accomplished people. I have advanced degrees in pyrotechnics and applied arcanery. I eat vegetables. My diction is as clear and precise as any blood elf you care to name. And I am hardly a statistical anomaly. I travel in the company of a troll woman whose grasp of metaphysics rivals that of the priests sequestered in the Stormwind Cathedral. At least, I believe that is the case. Most of those priests try to kill us, so I haven’t had an opportunity to compare before I burn them to ash.

It is true that my people have a checkered past. Our ancestors did eat the occasional night elf. They worshipped animal spirits and made bloody sacrifices to honor and appease them. But they lived in a harsh world. They had to make do with what circumstance offered them. In all fairness, they were also excellent dancers.

I urge you to take the time to get to know a troll. Have a conversation. Try the excellent gumbo. Shake a fetish stick and hop in a circle under a full moon. You will be glad you did.

But if I hear another joke about “long pork” I may forget my years of education, my excellent taste and refinement and set someone on fire. You have been warned."

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Who Ya Gonna Call?

....when an ungrateful demon and a mad scientist done take over yer slime-covered rat-infested disease-ridden melanin-deprived city and turn it into ... well ... they's slime-covered rat-infested disease-ridden melanin-deprived city?

Fuhggin' right, yer gonna call Thrall and Ratters. Bustin' makes us feel good.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

After The War's Over...

... I's gonna go back ta Dragonblight and get me one of these here skullmobiles. Oughtta be some good war surplus prices.

Is gonna be perfect fer cruisin' fer babes.

Sunday, May 17, 2009

I'm In Ur Stockade, Slaughterin' Ur Defias

I don't get humans. I means, the king returned. Married the Dude What Looks Like a Lady's daughter, healed some buggers, made the White Tree bloom, acted like a righteous prick, and pretty much declared war on the Horde. And yet, despites all thems, they still got them a prison revolt going on in they's hometown. And nobody's doin' nuthins about it. Great googly moogly.
Bugger that. I's gonna shut it down fer them.



Yo! Bazil! Party's over, ya fluggerbumper!




That's it? These is them bad-arse buggers what cain't be stopped by Stormwind's finest? What a buncha glubberthubbers. 


Next time you pasty-skin buggers has some trouble, just get yerselves a orc warrior. We's the buggers with a tradition of gettin' the job done.

Is Goal And Priority Number The Three

And is also mount number the fifty-one. Fer thems what be bored enough fer ta be keeping score at home, is five down, two ta go. Them two being clear the last three dungeons, and finish exterminating them furbolgs.

Friday, May 15, 2009

Me And Mr. Crazy Tree Had Unfinished Business

That's right. Going all the way back to October 2007. Me and Warp Splinter had tangled, but no clear winner. And no Arcatraz key for Ratters. But tonight, the Purge wemt back to the Botanica, with two new members - Tarsius the grumpy drood, and Empy the death knugget. And we was gonna finish this business.


That there is one dead tree, and one live key fragment. A quick flight back to Shat, and I finally got to turn in this quest I's had in me log fer a year and a half. Felt fuhggin' good, I tells ya.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

Random Album Is Random

The Game Dame done tagged me fer ta go do the random album cover meme thing. So, here it be: Brandenscheid's new album, Left To The Politicians. I figger is some sort of punk / nihilistic / angries at the world / really loud thing. Enjoys.



The way this works be:

1 - Go to “wikipedia.” Hit “random… Read More” 
or click http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:Random 
The first random wikipedia article you get is the name of your band. 
2 - Go to “Random quotations” 
or click http://www.quotationspage.com/random.php3 
The last four or five words of the very last quote of the page is the title of your first album. 
3 - Go to flickr and click on “explore the last seven days” 
or click http://www.flickr.com/explore/interesting/7days 
Third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover. 
4 - Use photoshop or similar to put it all together.

I gets fer ta tag now, So I says:
Totally Stopped Force
Pike the Wabbit
Need More Leafs

And oh yeah, credit where credit be do. Picture is from Pete Zarrria (off to Little Big Horn) and the text were generated using Cool Text.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Friday, May 8, 2009

The Culling of Stratholme

There we was, gettin' ready fer ta blocks them Infitish Dragonflight buggers from messin' up the timeline again. Them Bronze dragon buggers had done disguisified us, so's we'd look like pasty-skinned humans. Arthas and Uthur and Jaina is all "blah blah You can't do this blah blah I am your future king blah blah Scourge blah blah I won't help you blah blah blah." Enough alreadies! Let's get on with the hitting with me axe and the lewting of the phatz. Finally they's done talking and Uthur and Jaina walks away.As they go past me, though, Jaina slapped me on the arse and said "I'll see you later." 

Thursday, May 7, 2009

Is Where Children's Week Leads To Gossip

Somewhat random conversation in the BA chatroom, started by me noticing what one of me guildies remarking on having run into one of me readers:

Ratshag: from my Horde guild forum: "OMG.. Ratters has stalkers.. O.O"
Ratshag: followed by "Groupies! Throttle wants groupies! "
Nibuca: I'd grope ratters...
Nibuca: just sayin'
Lady Jess: just don't grope Pali...she had an unfortunate incident with diseased murlocs
Ratshag: yes. it was very upsetting
Ratshag: and she didn't even get any XP out of it...
Nibuca: oO
Lady Jess: oh she GOT Xp....
Lady Jess: and rep...
The Stoppable Force: but is it the kind of rep that anyone wants?
Ratshag: Not so much, no

Don't worry, Palintera. We won't tell yer mother.

Monday, May 4, 2009

Is Where Danger Mouse Doesn't Kill And Cannibalize Her Orphan

Helloooo.... Thiss is DangerMouse. I am Forsaken.

And you are a very small orc Ratters wants me to take sightseeing. Happy happy, I am a cheerful tour-directing abomination in the eyes of nature. I don't understand why I am doing this - you'll be dead someday, and then none of this will have mattered.

Yes, I will improve my reputation with the Horde factions, but why should I care? So someday I can get a kodo mount? Fegh! Kodos smell funny.

What? Watch it, kid, or we'll find out how great you smell when you're dead!



Yess, this is the dockss for the booming metropolis of Ratchet. Ratters says on sslow days, the Booty Bay whores come over to drum up ssome businesss. I suppose being young and male and breathing you'll be wanting ssome of-

No? Well, don't wait too long little orc. Ssoon enough you'll be dead, and then it will be too late.




This is the Mor'shan Rampart. And yes, it keepss all you little Hordelings ssafe, except for that gaping hole fifty yards to the East that the patrols never check for ssneaky Night Elvess...



No, you can't ssit in on the Lordaeron throne. Only we Forsaken are allowed to. Yess, I'm sure there's a rule about it, ssomewhere. You got a problem with that, short stuff, go pesster Sylvanass.



Okay, yeah, thiss ice cream is pretty good. Kind of ssparkly, even. No, you can't have any more. You want more icce cream? Go get your own orphan.



Yess, Cairne, I'm ssure the little rugrat wanted your hoofprint, so could you please jusst step on his chesst? No, he'll be fine - those orcss are tough, you know.

Fine, sstep on a piece of paper piece of paper and I'll give it to him. I suppose that will have to do...



So, here we are, back at the orphanage. Go be a good little orc. I hope thiss wasn't as boring for you as it wass for me. And kid? Embrace the Sshadow, for someday ssoon it will embrace you.