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Shootout

The most enjoyable time for me in 2006 (besides Christmas, which was perfect) took place Down South in North Carolina with my gracious hosts Mike and Carolyn.

Regular readers saw the barrage of earlier image posts and now, to wrap up coverage of my summer vacation, I present a final batch of pics to commemorate the trip.

My dear friend Mike and I are both photogs, shutterbugs, snapaholics...choose your preferred slightly-derogatory term. Too, we often share the same eye, looking at things in markedly similar ways. To demonstrate this phenomenon - and give this post some hook - I'm hosting an unsolicited competition.

Now, we'll see just how closely Mr Helms and I observed the same American destinations, tourist-approved or not, and decide, once and for all, who captured them best.

Before we begin, I must point out this activity was not planned, rehearsed or staged in any way whatsoevah. I noticed the likenesses while browsing photos after I returned home, and decided weeks ago that the contest was warranted.

LET'S GET READY TO RUUUUUMMMMMBBBBBBLLLLLEEEEE!!!

ROUND 1 - DUKE UNIVERSITY

Our battle begins on the richly-appointed campus of Duke.

Challenge: immortalize in pixels the architectural detail of this fine post-secondary institution.

Not surprisingly, our two boys from the sticks start with nature's erected monuments...the trees.

Helms leads with a humbling view of a towering structure...



Reese counters with a below-the-belt look at its humble roots:



The Mini Nerd judging panel is ready to call it a tie, but Reese throws a very unsportsmanlike fit. "Don't even think of going up against me when it comes to trees!!!" he yells, tossing two more images into the mix:





Unmoved, the judges let the original ruling stand.

Nonplussed, the infuriated Reese demands another tree tussle.

Helms opens with a sturdy head-on view...



Reese delivers a "startling glimpse of this great plant's majesty, set against a tasteful yet subtle hint of appropriate Duke backdrop" (his words):



Reese's mild attempt at photographic juxtaposition notwithstanding, the judges maintain their tie position.

And suggest the boys move on to images of the actual university.

Helms angles for a continuation of the "towering erection" theme, with an exploration of Duke's church...



Then Reese presents his interpretation:



And now we begin to see the opponents' common approach to their photographic attacks.

Helms swings wide with a classic Duke image...



Reese jabs back with the addition of "a human element":



Helms takes a premature swipe with his sloppily-composed view of Duke archways...



...that Reese slams home with the proper, if poorly lit, framing:



Not to be outdone, Helms sticks with his plan of medium shots...



...which catches Reese off-balance for a canted impression:



Taking advantage of the swaying Reese, Helms serves up a sustained volley that lasts well into the evening hours and culminates with this masterful moon shot:



Reese tries feebly to return the blow, but this is all he can pull:



WINNER: HELMS



(Note: even Reese agrees with the ruling, the above being his favorite Helms photo of Duke.)

ROUND 2 - MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY

With the battle heating up, our venue changes to the Museum of Natural History.

Reese gets things started with a quick, perhaps profane, grab of these suspended whales:



Helms opts to respect the museum's mandate with his family-friendly framing:



Not finished with whales, Helms lays down a solid bug's-eye-view of a floating skeleton:



Reese responds with the addition of "a fleshed element" (namely, Helms's wife):



Helms takes the fight to the terrestrial arena, staying "skinless":



Reese counters with an unexpected one-two punch, getting up-close and personal with Helms's dinosaur...



...and finishing with a hefty three-toed sloth!



In the temperate biome skirmish, Helms seeks to illustrate the transition from civilized space to wild hinterland...



...while Reese remains firmly among the forest creatures with another double-hit!





Panicked, Helms draws Reese away from the feral warrens and into realms of rock...



...but Reese brings along some fleshy humanity!!!



With Reese throwing down so hard, Helms decides to join the enemy and add some human interest (namely, Reese himself):



But Reese seizes the opportunity, turns up his lens, and returns to the animal kingdom!



Helms knows there is only one way to steal this round out from under Reese's stable footing...

By pulling the magic carpet of conspicuous self-regard:



So distracted by this image of himself, Reese is easily pummeled.

WINNER: HELMS



ROUND 3 - STATE CAPITOL

The action continues at this most hallowed of halls!

Challenge: honor North Carolina with the most esteemed photos of its capitol.

Reese begins with an artistic rendering framed by his trademark tree trunk and requisite tongue-in-cheek aside, a "Please Keep Off The Grass" sign:



But Reese is in the wrong country entirely. Here, Helms reigns supreme with a prideful, art-drained, humorless composition:



Demoralized, Reese gets on his knees to honor a statue...



...but Helms dominates with this unexpected overhead:



Reese strategizes to follow Helms's lead in the new cage match, with his first tactic launched in the capitol study:



No matter. Helms easily beats him down:



The skill gap is even more apparent in the capitol library. Reese:



Helms:



Bloodied, weary, Reese snaps an indisputably crappy pic of the "green room":



Helms breezes into another staggering blow...



...but isn't content until landing a resounding uppercut!



In a moment of extremis, Reese reaches a dazed epiphany and manages a passable punch with his realization of the "blue" room...



But it's too late. Too late by far. Helms seals his victory with a spectacular K.O.:



WINNER: HELMS

Asked afterward about the last thing he saw before blacking out, Reese admits it was a "lovely white light shining down on me from above to illuminate the center of my being".

ROUND 4 - THE BLUR

Challenge: to present the best blurred photo.

Reese sets himself the task of turning the tide, and finds hidden reserves of strength.

Helms laughs in the face of these reserves. He starts by capturing Reese at his lowest point, still defeated in the State Capitol:



But Reese calls on his powers of time travel to preserve Helms back inside the tree at the Museum of Natural History:



Stunned, Helms falls back, and Reese drives a powerful left:



Irritated, the judges rule Reese's left jab inadmissable as being only "marginally blurred".

This stokes Reese's fury, and the next round begins in earnest!

ROUND 5 - HELMS'S WIFE

Challenge (set by Reese): get the best photo of Carolyn.

Fighting dirty now, Reese drags Helms's wife into the fray. But he's altogether too cocky from his recent near-win; immodesty gets the better of him and Carolyn ends up as a cursory background element in this otherwise egotistical self-portrait:



Citing superior visual knowledge of his wife, Helms captures her discerning eye browsing a Duke University course catalog:



But Reese has the upper hand! He reveals a semi-erotic suckerpunch of Carolyn caught sleeping beautifully with her dark curls tossed by the southern breeze!!!



WINNER: REESE

Enraged, Helms prevents his wife from leaving the ring and stages his attack anew!

ROUND 6 - HELMS'S WIFE, PART II

Challenge: get the best photo of Carolyn with the opponent.

Flushed from his victory, Reese opens with a decent photo of Helms and Carolyn at dinner in the "Wild Turkey Lounge". Plain are Helms's belief of superiority and also, fatally, Carolyn's disgust at being involved in this petty scrap. Strike one for Reese!



Buoyed, Helms follows with a photo of Reese and Carolyn at lunch in the Museum of Natural History! Reese had no idea Helms also possessed powers of time travel! He's flabbergasted at this notable retaliation...



...but not enough to stay him from producing the deathblow - Helms and his wife seated on false horses screaming their excitement for all to see!



WINNER: REESE

Helms knows it's time to knuckle down.

ROUND 7 - PANCAKE HOUSE

Challenge (set by Helms): prove the trashiness of the establishment photographically.

Confident in his strategy, Helms opens with this revolting ceiling:



Reese stands by his rendition of a frightening drink:



Helms refuses to relent, deepening his assault with a close-up of a product that is recognizably neither butter nor margarine:



Reese ups the gross-out factor by featuring a despicable quantity of the stuff:



Sneak attack! Helms exercises husband's privilege and USES his wife to seal the deal!



Carolyn's repulsion at the Pancake House menu cannot be bested. Feeling cheap, she removes herself forcibly from the competition. But not before her husband triumphs.

WINNER: HELMS

It's down to the crunch now, with neither contender willing to give up a lead. Putting aside the pictographic pugilism, they take up blades as weapons of choice.

ROUND 8 - KNIFE SALE

Challenge: convey the inherent classiness of this parking-lot weapon sales environment.

Helms moves swiftly from the en-garde position to a lunging strike with his inaugural image:



Reese deflects the glancing blow with a clean slice:



Helms dodges aside, feinting expertly:



Without hesitation, Reese slashes back:



Getting to the meat of the matter, Helms cuts to the point:



And though Reese cleaves the fat away...



...the clear victor is the fencer most familiar with this land of abundant epees (and lo, parking-lot shuriken, too):



WINNER: HELMS

After a quick stop at the shooting range, the boys take the battle to the backroads.

ROUND 9 - RURAL REAL ESTATE

Our two cowboys are no strangers to dirt-road mansions aplenty. So the judges set them a task equal to their shared visions:

Challenge: depict with dignity a countryside structure.

Evenly matched, the shooters nail the bullseye right off the bat. Helms:



Reese:



Seeing he missed the crucial Coke freezer, Helms focuses on it for his second shot:



But Reese is expecting that and aims his digital six-shooter for the whole shebang:



The judges deliberate...and call it a--

DRAW!

It all comes down to this. One last shootout. The subject:

ROUND 10 - THEMSELVES

Challenge: photograph your mortal enemy.

Reese upgrades to a rifle and spends some serious buckshot to start - Helms in his natural environment, the motor vehicle:



Helms follows suit and achieves for his first peal across the bow, Reese in his vehicular environment - the passenger seat:



Amping his tactics, Reese loads a nasty gatling gun, capturing Helms's "essential character" (that of the attentive teacher):



That doesn't intimidate Helms at all. He responds with his own vicious rattle of well-placed bullets - Reese's "essential character":



Now it's a bazooka Reese aims at his opponent - Helms in "an unusual moment"; in this case, holding a six-pack of beer:



Helms prepares his dreaded cannon, firing off a load of "Reese in an unusual moment":



The judges halt the exchange!

After careful consideration, they deem Helms's photo inadmissable. Kicking himself in the ass with his own two hands is not that unusual for competitor Reese.

Enboldened, the Mini Nerd musters arms and detonates his ultimate P-bomb, the "favorite photo of a true, old friend":



And the judges have to agree.

This photo battle is OVAH.

Who won?

You decide.

Head Like A Hat

Howdy, pardners.

Where'd we leaver off, now?

Oh, yessum.

Big Nose Barney done gone sittin' inna desert.

He be sittin' dere longertime, but not so long as ye'd notice. 'Less ye were lookin'.

Only one person lookin', mind. Ain't no person, neither.

It be Barney's horse.

Now, mosta da time, dat horse done cropper sand - no grass bein' round fer tha munchin'. And sand suit it jest fine. So it keepa onner croppin', waitin' onner Barney's command, if it ever goan come. But Barney jest sit, all quiet-like, makin' noner sound t'all.

Inner dat simple equine head a' it's, dat dere horse ponder a spell or two on why they sittin' dere doin' nuthin. Dere were a quest, weren't it? Lookin' fer some perty blonder lady wit da greener eyes, who be lookin' fer a Magic Cactus. Or lookin' fer some meaner feller wit tha fancy car could drive 'em all ta tha Cactus, he wantin' it too, all fierce-like. Dat maker tha horse mad, seein' as it coulda clomper alla way ta tha Cactus right good, no car needed and thankee ver' much. But no matter. Never happened.

Nuthin' happen.

Ye might be wond'rin why in tarnation I sayin' all dese things ta ye, and rightly so. It be a sadder lil' scene, Barney sittin' dere thinkin' onner sumpin', tha horse waitin' on 'is master, and nuthin' much worth sayin' t'all. Not sure why I'm even tellin' ye.

And tha horse? Jest puzzlin' on this here sitcheration done makin' him header hurt. Keep on croppin' grass, him mind say ta him. 'Cept it weren't grass, a'course. It were sand.

But I tell ye that already.

"Horse," sayer Barney, finerly.

This be the first thing he say in sommer weeks, I gotta letter ye know. Coulda even be months at the rate dat dere horse almost crop a hole through ter China in tha desert sands.

But by golly, them horse ears went up, and that horse done raise him ole cross-eyes to sorta stare at hisser master. Truth be told, he be lookin' mostly to the left. But still.

Barney took 'imself a longertime respondin'. And when 'e did, this is what 'e say:

"Good ole Elbows McGee. He hadda song. I'ma gonner sing it."

At this, dem horse ears perk up ta tha sky! Dat horse done lover it sommer singin'.

"Ye 'member Elbows, horse. He done player tha spoons, and tha squeezebox too."

Tha horse din't unnerstand a word Barney's sayin', but he nod jest the same. If a song comin', he woulder nod 'til his header faller off.

So by n' by, asser night turner inta day and backer agin, they start ta singin'. Now, Elbows McGee done gone known for hisser epic poem-like singerlongs. But 'cuz I know how y'all modern folk be likin' tha faster stuff, I'ma cutter here ta tha best parts n'all.

Here'sa whatter they sang:

When yer lookin' far n' wide
Don' ferget yerself at home
No matter what longer tracks ye ride
And distant lands ye gonna roam
There be a hat ye oughter keeper on
Tha one ye wore when ye were born
It be tha nekkid hat o' yer own skin
From yer mommy daddy shorn
Sommertimes ye wanna doff it
Th'only hat ye truly own
Put onna diff'rent hair n'all
Wear it cut 'r combed 'r blown
But unnerneath, dere ain't no changin'
What ye always shoulder known
Dat hat be yer own head, boy
And it be comin' where yer goan

Yer head be like a hat, yessirree, yessirree
Yer head be like a hat, it done be, it done be
Yer head be like a hat, whinny whinny, whinny whinny
Yer head be yer own hat, take it ferm me, ferm me

Now, a hat issa important thang
Don' unnerestimate its wearin'
It canna keep tha hurtin' sun
Outter your eyes when it be glarin'
Or holder back tha force a' nature
When tha heavens they be sharin'
Them thunderstorms 'n snowy flakes
Could setter back a traveler farin'
Fer a spot half near 'cross the world
Or back home where skies be clearin'
Ta tip brims at fetchin' lassies
Hide yer eyes if ye ain't darin'
It be a gift up dere on toppa ye!
Ain't no heavy load fer bearin'
Yer head be yer best friend, boy
Time'a fer it ye start carin'

Yer head be like a hat, it be true, so true
Yer head be like a hat, made jest fer you, 'n you!
Yer head be like a hat, keep it brand new, like new
Yer head be yer own hat, not a shoe, nope, no shoe

So yer crop died on ye right fast
Ye're tha pity o' tha town
Or yer lady take her leave o' ye
While in dat weddin' gown
Mebbe some'un stole yer pigs
Or yer cow o' great renown
Mayhap nasty kid'uns
Wreck dat field dat ye be plowin'.
But feller, best take heart fer
What ye ain't lost this time 'round
Cuz God give it ta ye first
Ye keep it 'til yer in tha ground
It sure done look tha best on ye
This be what I always found
Jest keep wearin' dat dang hat, boy
It aim ta never let ye down

Yer head be like a hat, wit' a face, yer face
Yer head be like a hat, yer saving grace, oh grace
Yer head be like a hat, it set the pace, decent pace
Yer head be yer own hat, keep it in place, a special place

Oh, they gone singer inter many a'night, Barney croonin' hisser best and tha horse done whinnyin' along like he know how. Before a fortnight past, they be sittin' right next ta each other, roastin' them'a hotter dogs and marshermallers jest like usual. And sharin' themmer potater chips, salt n' vinegar, commer mornin'.

It be a jamboree fer 'membrin.

And then, pardners, at longer last, they done stop wit' dere singin'. Barney git all quiet agin, but not fer a longertime, thisser time. Finerly, he stander up and sayer ta him faithful compan'un:

"Me Agnes ain't me Agnes no more. Never were."

Tha horse put hisser equine mind ta makin' sommer sense'a that. Thinkin' mebbe this here Agnes were dat perty blonder lady wit' tha greener eyes? Yea, mebbe.

"Dat El Grapos may not liker me nose, but he ain't gonner find tha Magic Cactus neither. I jest know it."

'N this were dat meaner feller wit' tha car instead'a fine horse ta serve 'im well. Yea.

"I done lost me hat fer a bit."

Tha horse looker 'round some - not ver' well, mind ye - and din't see none hat. Not even on Barney's noggin, and if 'e found tha dang thang, weren't it be upper there? Gee.

"But that be over now," Barney say. And: "Let's goan home."

Ahh, n'more myst'ries. Horse unnerstand dat one jest fine.

So he leaver off his'a croppin', put hisser mind to a'clomperin', and feelin' better fer tha first time inna longertime, he walker 'longside hisser master.

Alla way home.

Blorthos Recommends

I am Blorthos Malamakk. You are not. So, I tell you what to buy.

Time of season come when you get thing for who not kill you.

Must get good thing, or should die.

Look close, see answer. Sing along if want.

Cousin Farblachht, pretty young one of family, model thing today.

First Day Christmas

Puny Hammer of Laughable Damage



Poky Knife of Silly Puncture



These thing waste of gold but good for child, maybe woman. Put in stocking for joke. Even pretty Farblachht not make look good.



Two Day Christmas

Stylish Dagger of Attractive Slaughter



Studded Mace of Sudden Whompage



Blorthos fell many Morden-Urg with set. All hit to ugly face and stinking body produce strong thud, good destruction of enemy. Cousin Farblachht like also.



Christmas Third One

Questionable Blade of Fluttery Slapping



Stupid sword look like fish. Still, kill easy most Ha'Ku, some Vulk.



Four Days Christmas

Generic Sword of Reliable Slashing



Your grandpa wield this stick, drop most ancient Bracken Defender, Boarbeast. Collectible, get two and maybe match well-dress cousin.



Five Christmases

Spiked Pounder of Certain Mangling



Put dent or hole in enemy fast, sometime see inside tunnel open spill. Good, recommend. HAHA look how small Farblachht look! He need two Pounder even graze Maltratar or Sand Reaper, never mind angry Kragen! HAHA!



Christmas Six

Serrated Paddle of Hesitant Reaming



What? More fish sword? Stupid, think. And right. But give shiny color, so fashion prince cousin like. Oh, I make him mad now! Want unleash rage on frozen enemy! HAHA, not hit me Farblachht, I on internet tube serie!



Christmas Time Seven

Horned Club of Sociable Battery



If attend special holiday banquet where give gift back forth, not do worse than two decorative club Farblachht like so much he rest on slumber mound with. Be talk of party, then slay quick all Thrusk, Scrub Boar, even Rotten Twisted Shail.



Eight Day

Legendary Pike of Absolute Wreckage



Name all. Jabbing Tharva. Tacklak Basher. Kurgan. Outcast Vasp. Sangor, Thrine, Naldrun. Lertisk, Flaypick, Durvla. Klask! BRALL!!! Not matter, any. All die if face Legendary Pike. Much gold, great honor. Why poor Farblachht look so sad? He not like backdrop. Pout lip like baby.



Somehow, this better. Now Farblachht pose with power.



Ten of Christmas

Piledriving Axe of Great Death



Stuff getting good. Blorthos stand behind recommend Piledriving Axe for dispatch Gorgak, Adolescent Taugrim mostly. Farblachht say Plagued Larvax, Boggrot too. Not agree, though if hit Kurtle or Skitter hard enough, explode like festive ornament. Weapon easy for wrap also, person never guess.



Christmas to Eleven

Dual Katana of Frenzied Dismemberment



Hurry fast and now. Katana fly off shelf. Many close relative sure be dead by daybreak when happy gift owner joyful fling about effective weapon. Cousin Farblachht so happy model glowing sword, he on top Christmas world!



Twelfth

Mammoth Sledge of Swift Flattening



Younger, prettier cousin get open portal to good vacation destination, no gold taken. Why not Blorthos deserve? Make whole post for human blog site, take long! No reward, not even health potion. Here stupid Farblachht model best Christmas weapon, Mammoth Sledge. It kill very good if any enemy near, but on island, nothing. So Blorthos recommend Farblachht hit self hard and again until make hit points zero, need magical lady for revive. Merry celebration.



Enough,

Rebuilt

I was fired twice this year.

The first time was unexpected (and in some opinions, unwarranted). So it was a shock for me and most people nearby.

The second time wasn't unexpected. But it was the one that broke my heart.

See, I'd had a dream I'd been dreaming for the last three years fulfilled. I was given challenging physical work from 9 to 5, getting me out of an office chair and onto my feet, putting my hands (and arms) to the task of lifting, holding and screwing (sounds pleasurable, indeed) instead of typing, tapping and clicking. A different kind of making, to be sure. No more or less productive, no more or less creative - except in the latter case I could easily see the final versions of what I'd helped to make, existing in the real world as measurable, tactile accomplishments that real human beings would utilize, inhabit...appreciate.

It was a drastic and total change, but one I'd been craving across my three years putting words on websites for a very cool, very cherished advertising agency. To be fair (and it's understating the matter), said agency changed my life in every way. But it was time for a different change. So I put away my computer mouse...

And picked up a hammer.

Starting this fall, I worked construction with the finest men in the trades, anywhere on this planet. I do not make that proclamation lightly. They are truly two in a million - strapping man's men with more muscles than I ever knew existed, and bigger hearts than I ever thought possible. When they heard I'd been kicked to the curb by my fellow nerds, they lifted me up and protected my sorry hide when I needed it most. I was gainfully employed without pause - meaning I didn't have time to mourn the disappearance of regular income, only the form of its delivery. And in the new regime, I was required to get the hell off my flabby ass and do something really useful, whether it be cleaning up scrap, building the steel skeleton that would one day become a wall, or dressing it with a flesh of gypsum to create these illusions of solidity and enclosure we so take for granted.

I became a drywaller. A boarder.

And when I was good enough to put on a heavy toolbelt and learn to walk with my hands a manly distance from my body (not to intimidate, I learned, but to avoid the cluttered periphery of measuring tape, lifters, rasps, keyhole saws, crimpers, vice-grips, hammers and screwguns in abundance across the hips of any fellow building buildings these days), I felt like I had earned a black belt. That kind of achievement surpassed any title change I may have garnered back at the office, like a badge on a Cub Scout's shoulder saying yes, you learned how to make fire, buddy.

And yes, as a pasty, sedentary writer, I was on top of the world learning all the new jargon I've thrown around so casually above. Just happy to be learning, period. I really do best when there are new things to process and fresh skills to encounter, develop and perfect. It was heaven, with benefits. I sweated like a pig (grinning through it all), and discovered my arms and shoulders were getting bigger than they'd ever been before. Who among us Y chromosome-bearers could sniff at that?

Thus, it was all the more wrenching when the toolbelt was wrested from me and my duties revoked. Being me, I took it personally, thinking I had done something wrong. Not ramped up to speed quickly enough. Hadn't proved myself indispensable to my experienced employers - as a rookie, yes, but one who actually respected (no, revered), them enough to give his all in the hopes of impressing and making an impression.

Alas, it was none of these that got me booted off the construction site. It was a mere financial matter - compounded, of course, by our proximity to year-end and the rush of generosity that seizes those of us who love to buy presents for the people in our lives when mistletoe is hung and trees trimmed. More than that, because the New Year bodes some hefty expenses for my team, and they needed my earning power (however fledgling) out of the way to facilitate some saving and greater spending.

The day I heard I'd just emerged from the shower. I was standing there naked but for a towel, as the fellow who had hired me walked into the living room and told me he had to let me go. I couldn't have been more vulnerable unless I'd dropped terrycloth and weathered this news in my birthday suit! And it took a while to make it okay in my mind.

But just when I'd processed; just when I'd accepted; just when I'd made my peace with being relegated back to the chair and the keyboard and the mouse that isn't a mouse, who came knocking on my sliding door again?

The same guys.

There was a need for me now. There was a budget for me now. And did I want to spend this weekend's daylight hours hanging board with the best? (Those last two words are my assignation, not theirs - these guys are as modest as they are welcoming and patient with rookies they're willing to take a chance on.)

I was already smiling.

I didn't need a second to think it over.

And so my time was spent: exerting, hurting (in all the right ways), and blurting (out whatever struck my fancy). We gave a home walls. We talked philosophy over lunch. We went home with our bodies as exhausted as our minds can get in this day and age.

New muscles, you ain't going nowhere. 7-11, you're great for a quick and cheap lunch. Chad and Trevor, you made my dream come true again.

You even went me one better.

I got a job, sure. That's fantastic.

But I also found two brothers.

And that kindness can never properly be repaid.

Not that I won't try, of course. When's the next shift?

The End

All right, let's get this party started.

It's the end of 2006, and there's lots to celebrate.


Doug finished his first act, congrats!

Bill and Walt published their second book, wicked!

Tanya's moving to California, sweet!

Lisa got promoted, disco!!!

Julie's freelancing!

So am I!

Kevin found a team for spring!

Dave and Lena are pregnant!!!

Edie's smiling a lot!

Robs and Trevs are angling for a house!

Ryan's Outsiders is premiering!

Comrade's going strong!

Christen's teaching in the desert!

DJ's officially a Canadian!

Carl and Julianne are engaged!

Tara's joined us 30somethings!

Shannon's still in Canada!


And much, much more.

Good grief, what a year.

I've promised a Down South wrapup, and that's coming. After all, it's getting pretty cold here at Mini Nerd - all the more reason to say goodbye to fall.

I hinted at an update, and that's coming too. Thanks to Trevor for giving me a good excuse to make those posts I've been itching to for many weeks.

And all along, I've been plinking away at updating the site proper. Regular readers will notice more new functionality in the navbar. The F.O.R.G.E.'s been updated with several hundred new words for us Dungeons & Dragons knobs, plus it's been joined by Gruntage, a nod back in time to high school and a language my peeps and I forged to comment, ridiculously, on just about anything. Give it a click and try to pronounce!

Flirting on and off with a slideshow feature, I eventually discarded it because the thing was slowing down pageloads like nobody's business. In its place, we added a couple Videos (one from Down South, and the other a nod back to the early 2000s, when we made a grab for placement in the Big Rock Eddies faux beer commercial contest). I'll post it here, since it suits the season (snow and sauce, natch):



The "Geek Gifts" I've been steadily adding for about a month now are finally, fully live, comprising the comic books I really loved so far in my life and want you to love too, if only you'd take a chance and buy one from Amazon. Trust me, I wouldn't hawk 'em if they weren't cool. Got one open-minded nerd bone in your body? Then click, read and entertain yourself. There's some fun stuff.

For those who care, I can say with some certainty Big Nose Barney, Blorthos Malamakk, AND Lord Blooddyke will all make an appearance before year-end. They've each been absent from the Mini Nerd mainstage for a while, but ever watching from the wings and waiting for their moments of closure (or continuation).

Lastly but not leastly, up top right we've got the usual XML link for those of you who access Mini Nerd through your RSS readers - but this month out, it's accompanied by an XMAS link, which will get you a playlist I've compiled for your holiday enjoyment. It's appropriate for decorating trees, drinking eggnog (laced or not), shopping and wrapping, and of course, waking up Christmas morn with yer loved ones. Please partake. Christmas music always gets me weepy - especially the sacred stuff - and I've put some decent hours into compiling the best I could find. (You'll need Windows Media Player for the .m3u file to work, I think. Sorry!)

In closing; in opening:

Friends, folks, alla youse - let's send 2006 out with a bang, not a whimper. We're all one year older, one year wiser (hopefully). Dunno about you, but I'm ready for some festive. So bring it on. May the final four of this annum be ones to remember.

Cheers,
Steebn