Sunday, July 31, 2011

Ratshag! Come Over Here!

Yes, Chef?

Your scallops were rubbery as [bleep], your risotto was burnt, and your murloc Wellington gave our special VIP guest a [bleep]ing parasite! Why on earth should you be allowed to stay in Hellfire Kitchen?

Because I's a [bleep]ing fighter, Chef. I never gonna quit on you, and I's always gonna come back strong after a bad [bleep][bleep]ing service. I ain't too old fer ta learn, and I knows what I can make you [bleep]ing proud. Now I knows I [bleep]ed up the [bleep][bleep] tonight, but I's gonna do better. Plus, I know there's [bleep] I can cook better'n any [bleep] here, even you Chef.

What in the seven hells can you cook better than me, Ratshag?

Broiled Englishman, Chef. Poached Englishman. Roasted Englishman with onions and gravy. Englishman turnovers. Englishman kabobs. Spotted [bleep][bleep]ing spotted Englishman dick, Chef.



Right, get back in the line, big guy. Julian! You managed to set the pasta on fire! Tell me why I should let you stay in my kitchen...

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Is Where Pali Does More Rememberizings

The lake in Nagrand looks just the same  as it did three years ago when the guild had our goofy Olympics. Feral and I were far too young and inexperienced to be in Outland, let alone swimming in a race through elemenal-infested waters. But we wanted to be there, to not be excluded, so they let us come. It should have been terrifying, but as long as we were together nothing could stop us. If I close my eyes and smell the grass and listen to the waves lapping on the shore, I can pretend for a minute that it's that day again, and nothing has changed. But of course it has, and pretending won't change that.

Six months ago, I was trying to get us to Gadgetzan. Naked, burned, dehydrated, exhausted, I knew I couldn't keep going much farther. But the Goddess was kind that day, and the sun was still climbing towards noon when I saw that stupid, preposterous, beautiful mechanical hammer appear over the horizon. The tsunami hadn't destroyed the city (although the bay it had carved out came to within a mile of its walls), we hadn't gotten hopelessly lost in the desert, and I still had enough strength to carry her the rest of the way. "We made it, Sweetie," I whispered to her. "We're going to get you real healers, the best gold can buy, and you're going to be just fine."

If only things had been that simple.

The city guards stopped me fifty yards from the gate. "We ain't runnin' no charity here, sister. Nobody gets in unless they can pay. In advance."

I blinked at him, stupidly. "But... but... she needs help. She's hurt. We have gold - just... just not with me, right now. And we have friends, rich friends, if that's not enough. Please. You have to believe me. You have to let me take her to the healers!"

He just shrugged at me. "Healers are busy. No cash, no admittance. That's the rules, toots."

"Please, you have to let us in. We don't have anywhere else to go." My voice was breaking, my body was shaking, and tears would have been streaming down my cheeks if I hadn't been so dehydrated.

"Sure you do." He pointed to a spot off to the side, outside the wall. "Cemetery's right over there."

With that, my legs gave out and I fell down to my knees. It was all I could do not to drop Feral. I... I don't remember very well what all I said to the goblin guard at that point. I know I begged and pleaded and appealed. I threatened. I cried. I was probably about to offer him and his companion my body, when a voice interrupted.

"Ai! What in the name of mah grannies' tangled beard is all this ruckus aboot? What ar ye keepin' these poor lasses ootwith th' gate?" I turned my head and saw Bera Stonehammer holding a pair of leashes attached to gryphons. Behind her stood a couple of goblins carrying what looked like salvage from a flight station. The guard and I launched into (rather different) versions of why he wouldn't let me into the city. After a minute she said, "Enough! Yoo'll skeer th' kimmers. Lit th' girls in an' give them tae th' healers. I'll vooch fur them an' clear it wi' yer boss. Glovon! Geltan! Git o'er here an' git th' lass on a kimmer." Her retinue dropped what they were carrying and took Feral from me and gently lifted her onto the back of one of the gryphons. Meanwhile Bera rummaged through the salvage and came up with a couple of lightweight blankets for us. At this point I didn't give a flip for modesty, but it was nice to have something to block the damn sun with.

I'm sure we made quite the spectacle parading in through the gate, past the forge and the auction house. But I didn't care. I'd gotten Feral back to civilization, and now she would be taken care of by someone far more skilled than me, and then everything would go back to how it was supposed to be.

Water elementals still swim through these beautiful blue lakes of Nagrand.  But instead of trying to avoid them as I did three years ago, I am hunting them for their motes, and they try to avoid me. Everything is the same as it was then, and everything is different.

Friday, July 22, 2011

Going High Tech This Week

Cthulhu landed a solid victory, 78 to 48 over the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. Meanwhile, only 55% of you was paying attentions ta the important instructions during Ghost Busters. Go watch it again, the rest of you buggers!

For this week's poll we's a little closer ta this here plane of reality. But not too much.

Thursday, July 21, 2011


Hurry up and finish killing those dead people in Northrend and give me my damn heirlooms back! People are looking at me funny in these pants.
Better not stretch'em out with your big dumb orc shoulders neither, or I'll be draining your soul first, you hear me?

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Is Where Gogmoth Goes Ta The Frozen North

Yeah, Northrend. Where the wind blows fuhggin' cold, and the glubbernunkin' dead walk the earth. Home of the walrus dudes and the voluptuous walrus wimmenz what gives good walrus lovin'. Northrend, where the murlocs talk (kinda sorta) and duke it out with them furries in the Basin. Northrend, where Freya's milkshakes done bring all the boys and girls ta the yard, and Hodir remembers ya from the mountains. Northrend, where Alex wears her climate-controlled thong and the Broom Hildas wear icicles. Northrend, land of Really Big Worms and Really Confusicating Oculus.

So tells me, little brother, what be yer first thoughts of this brave new world ya done made it to?

"This stupid had keeps falling down over me eyes and it tickles me beard."

Monday, July 18, 2011

Dear Ghostcrawler

Pleasse make it so eyepatches can be dual-equipped. 'Causse, you know, that'd really messss with the living's mindsss.

I'll give you five dollars?

Friday, July 15, 2011

New Poll

Well, Saruman the White staged a late-inning rally, but it weren't enoughs fer ta stop the Poppins from totally thrashing him with her umbrella. Final tally: 68 votes fer Mary, 20 fer the Master of Orthanc.

This week, we's kickin' it up a notch and lettin' some major-league gods duke it out. And feel free ta vote in the special bonus poll as well!

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

The Votes Is In

Grand Moff Tarkin: 54 (29%)
The Cat In The Hat: 130 (70%)

So that be a solid win fer the fedora'd feline. Yay on him.

This weeks poll: Saruman vs Mary Poppins

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Guild Rankings Update

We's in the Bottom 99% of all raiding guilds, fer the sever, the US, and the world. Go us!

You wants more precisionifying? Go ta a site what gives a flip about guild rankings.

Sunday, July 3, 2011

Holiday Revelers Eaten By Dinosaurs. Film At Eleven.

Fer serious. I understands what Un'Goro Crater done be a little primitive, but there do be a glubbernuggin' palisade at Marshall's Stand fer ta keep the dinos out!! Why not set up yer pavilions inside the fuhggin' thing? I tells ya, these folks is dumber than that lootenant in Aliens.

Saturday, July 2, 2011