Welcome to the personal blog of OctogenderIceBadger
- Background color
- Background image
- Font Type
- Font Size
"Woman, you got me messed up," said Daquan one morning to his mother as he tossed a stone that did shatter.
"Whatchu on and whatchu see, O kin who is so close to me?" Replied the child's mother. "What could I say and what would I feel to one who is so boldly against his own field?"
"Oh, please, for only cause of a donkey would I shriek and my soul be shattered. I walk and I take for that I do take and that I doth bake."
"Bake? Ye? Surely thou doth liest to me, for never in thy life or my life thence, hath thou offered to take my cooking place on a fence."
"A bake I shall make and a bakery I shall take, and thus you shall cry and shall shake 'he doth bake!' For surely I say and surely I feel that I would make you feel like a monkey spinning a wheel! Take heed, O mother for dear history's sake, as history doth shake; as it tells of the great Daquan sitting on a lake. Examine my elbows and take heed of my sheild, for now on this day I shalt make thee yield!"
And so Daquan did wake in the morn and sit on a lake, but like a hammer he did quake, and like a sinner he did keel, and so on that day, the great Daquan was killed.
"Pain in my bosom and pain from that lake with a snake on its heels and a rainbow in its fields!" Cried the mother as she was shook and was chill from the news that the postman delivered in a pail. For in that pail did sit Daquan's head, taken from his body and skewered on steel.
"Would that I could but take his place," saith the postman with a star on his face, with a bar on his shields.
"My life is over, no more happiness shall I yield as I bake. Thrust this dagger into me and toss me into the lake." The mother replied, with a tear in her eye, her spine misaligned.
"Nay, fair mother, nay I plead you! Taketh not thy life, for it is not but yours to take! Who is to say your life is over, when you could but bear more children still?" And so she did cry and so did she shake from the news that her child had died on that lake. So her heart stewed, and it flew, until the day when she took herself a new father.
"O fair maiden, for thee I doth wish my life were never take." Saith Bigilieboo, a man who had once lived upon a lake. "How like a keyboard and a mouse would I show the world to you? Love of my life, and lover of my fields, surely I now would sayest to you that I had but breakest the plate and your heart did shiver and shake."
"Slipperly snakes to me you doth shake. Shivering skimmers and quivering embers! Deep within my face tonight, find a love so sleek and stay but a night. So life goes, and so it shows that never in life will you know what it shall show."
"Come and quiver and come in a shimber as we bake with a pig and roast in a pillar."
And so it goes, and so it shows that never in life will a man know how it all truly goes...
My mother was a kind woman, who had lost her previous child to a most ridiculous happenstance. But so it was, and so my birth had come to be. And never the happier would I be.
-- Boldorf, the eight-gendered badger with magical ice abilities
<to be continued>
A young thief named Mileek sat on his sink and stared at a leek. "Tasty it shows, but doth taking a taste would I grow?" He thought, and tickled the ears on his cheek.
"Pleasure on your tongue I shall place, just please remove the ears from your face." Said the leek with a wart now in its place, for it had moved from the claim it did take and sat tickling the ears on his companions face.
"How now wouldest a leek speaketh to Mileek?" Asked he, tongue in his cheek. "Surely, truly I must leave posthaste!" And his goggles from his head he did place on his nose, and taketh his spear he did show his amazing skills at foosball, and the leek gave quite a shriek.
"Wouldst thou be a raccoon with skills such as these?!"
And at this time Mileek's old buddy, Boldorf who most certainly is no fuddy-duddy, did step through the door and tickle his tail, and snikkle and snore. "'Sup," he said, baking a cake.
"Greetings my friend! Greetings I say, for on this day I surely would say - 'tis a fine morning to you and a good morning to me."
"Shickle and shackle, you did give quite a cackle as I saw thee banging a shackle with my young pal, the fackle."
"Bang? I? Nay, thou dost lie, for on this day I will not shy that I spoke with a leek who gave quite a shriek. Here he stands, and here stood Paul, but now he is gone, did he go to the mall?"
"Leek? No leek doth I seen that ever did shriek."
"Surely he shrieked and surely I cry that a friend, aye, would think I would lie like a fly among rye, singing with his spies and bringing the lye to sprinkle on his thighs in a time without ply or coats on a line!"
"Perhaps on your plate was merely your fate, as you shake while you wake as I try to bake with a rake in my face."
"Like a happy meal eating a snark with a rotten tooth and a worm in his heart, I feel now towards thou, thy so called friend. A friend doth thou say, as thou spitteth in my face, bah I say! Bah to your cake and bah to your rake!"
"Surely something has changed inside you my friend, that thou wouldst speak to me in such a manner, if you wish it I would go and bake in some other place where I am wanted and not treated like some snake."
"Fly then, fly far off! Fly til your paws doth bleed and fall off! Like a razor you doth scorn, like an acorn amongst thorns!"
And so the friends were no more, and Mileek he did cry, but the leek like a leak never did fly, for amongst them he stood and the plot was understood, that he in his ways with his bucket in his face, did end the greatest friendship that had ever stood.
<to be continued>
Sitting at my home in Antarctica with my thousands of asexually reproduced children-selves, they jumped upon my knee and shouted with glee.
"Motherfather! Motherfather! O, do tell us a story, couldn't you, O Motherfather?" One asked.
"Oh, do let's." Responded offspring #368, who for some reason spoke like British children from the days of World War II.
"Oh, I suppose one little story couldn't hurt... too terribly, that is." I replied with a smirk.
"Alas, I am pregnant and no longer stagnant!" A young lady, Kaydee was her name, exclaimed in jubilee to her husband the great King Flea.
"Oh, what a time we shall have! What parties, what games! But I do wish I could taste a little of his brain." The great King Flea hopped as he sang.
"No, no blood shalt thy take, for he is my baby and from you he would break." Kaydee replied with fire in her face as she smacked the king in her child's place.
And one month hence from that day, the baby was born as a young flea prince. "Look at him, O King Flea! Look at his face!" The mother replied with a smile on her face. "Look at his face, he grins as you did when you won that race in my place!"
"'Tis true, a beauty is he, so surely I shall now suck some blood from his knee." Replied the great king Flea.
"No blood shall you suck, for I as I am his, he is to me. But what name shall he take? Who before him shall he emulate? Perhaps my uncle Steve or my great aunt Pete!"
"His name shall be Pete, for how like a potato doth he appear to me. How like a turnip he would grow from the dust, and make all others bend their knee as they smell his must!"
"A great flea shall he be."
And so that great flea Pete was taken to his abode on Rainy street. And so he did grow, and so he did cry, as a baby often does when it dies. But a strong baby was he, strong in his elbows and his tummy tum tree. But the great King Flea did lust and did taste, for the great blood that he would suck from his child's face. But his wife never did let him suck the blood from his face, so the flee waited and he ate paste as he paced.
"His blood is too tasty for me not to eat, and so I think I shall make myself a treat. What would one bite do, would he shatter? For my tummy doth rumble and with blood would my mouth not be gladder? And so I will fly and avoid this pitter-patter."
The great King Flea gave himself a treat as he flew to his scrumptious baby, sucking from him a delicious treat. And a bite he did take, and the baby's blood did splatter upon his cheek, like a geyser that shot from a peak. The baby was never aware that his father had been on such fleek. But the baby, having felt the blood taken from his body, did weep and did cry, and the great King Flea quickly did hide. He wandered around, for many hours hence, collapsing in the street, drunk from his sweet.
But when he did return to his throne he did gasp with terrible freight. His wife had left, which shattered his heart into two, for what the Flea had done he did not know, and was the cause of his fall down below. For alas and alack, the baby was a hemophiliac. And taking the blood from his body the child did fall... and so the great King Flea did take his life with a pillow and a sack, and never was the tale heard, of the Flea Pete Jack.
"So? What did you think?" I asked my children-selves, noticing one crying upon a shelf.
"That was a terrible story... so we must now lament and be sad." Replied clone #365, eating a snack. And so they hurried themselves off to bed, crying all the while, their tears falling upon their pillows.
Seeing such weakness of heart and mind, I thus took their lives with a thought in mind. If they are me, and I art them, how can we all be so different in the head? One may never know, no one may ever say, why the wheat is so different from the whey.
<to be continued...>
"You always seem to smile when the moon is nigh," saith a nearby voluptuous female as she consumed an entire bag of potatoes, thinking how like the moon a shoe longs for the summer.
"And your face spins like a cord on a trunk doth spinneth, round and round about in its merry way," I replied, twisting my fur about, like a monkey spins a dish. "Come to me, O maiden with a lace in her face, dance with me and say unto me as you did upon that cliff with a disk, and breathe on my nose as we once did as children."
"For you, my love, I could plunge toast down my throat and not cough for love of thee. Like a bubble that riseth in the clouds, a pillow in the sky with a rainbow on its back, looking down on Saint Frostjack, with his nose and his eyes and his prickly spines... for he looketh upon the world like a pillow to drown would look to its maiden and ask for a crown."
"So I think and so I feel, if I were any younger I would be older still... for how like a mountain and a tree our love doth shake! For our love is younger than the mountains, yet older than the lakes. In the sky a tree dreams, but a merry game of tiddlywinks. Reindeer games we once did play, now as adults we still doth play... How like a hanger I would hang for you, and as a sock would travel many miles just to be with you. For thy smile is like a veil that doth veileth the world from all the anger, and strife, and this melancholic life."
"How like a turtle, thou appearest to me, gazing at the moon far yonder... ready, at any moment, to travel the distance like a foosball of dissonance. Yet there thou stand, looking down upon the world like a baby in a tree, for thou sayeth I hath but one disgrace... this lace on my face."
"Yea, for surely I agree with thee that thy face is completely abhorrent to me."
"But what do I, a squiggly spot do look upon you like my heart danced with a pot? A backpack sways and a backpack goes, but never in my life shall I be apart from you. In the depths of tomorrow and the seas of today, I shall never stare into the face of doctor John Bay. For no backstabber art I to turn against the love of my eye; eating my rye, I shall send my spies to cry and tell me of the things of which thou doth lie."
"Lie? I? Aye, surely you thinkest me some sort of harlot of sorts who doth dance like a tree that has been made into a pole and put in vision of thee. For who art I to be owned by thee? Is my own life not mine, canst I not simply chooseth to die? Or dost thou seeth me as some prickly spine?!"
"How like a kernel doth lead his men into battle and get stuck in your gums and make quite a rattle. Saddle my gaddle and ride into a nettle of kettles and prickly skettles, for thou never truly lovest me, and so I brought my scriddles and knittles, to taketh this knittle and plungeth it into thy talkative gibble!"
Seeing this coming a mile away, I quickly grabbed her bladed weapon of spiky doom, and plunged it deep within the wench's skull. And so she withered, and so she died. And on her grave, I now doth lie... sleeping peacefully, til the end of all time.
<to be continued...?>
Howdy y'all. I, Boldorf, the greatest thing that ever was or ever will be has been away for far too long. I heard the people's cries for help, but alas... I did not care.
Upon my usual visit to the home of a murbling mouser cat known as Mouser the XIV, I was suddenly abducted by several babelicious alien hotties (Babelians for short) and spent many a day in blissful reproduction.
"Lo," they saith unto me, "Boldorf, thy belly is the greatest belly we, hot babe aliens from outer space, have ever been graced with tickling. Sayeth that thou willst loveth us forever."
Nay. And nay a second time, I replied in a fit of rage. I am a free badger, no knavish lass shalt ever imprisoneth I. So I smote the Babelians with a single icicle blast from my eye sockets.
Shedding a single tear, I consumed their flesh and bones, their blood saturating my unquenchable thirst as I returned home.
"Murble" the Mouser moused upon my arrival. I then turned the fiend into an igloo, and the Mouser was no more. For I am become death, the destroyer of worlds...
<to be continued>
x65943 likes this.
Ascending to the status of being worshipped as a god isn't easy, even when your abilities are beyond what is described as god-tier.
To accomplish my dream of being known by everyone on the planet, living or dead, I knew I had to get my name out there, and so I climbed Mt. Everest, training my mind and body for what was to come.
It was at this time that I was trapped in an avalanche, forced to consume my many-gendered children just to survive!
Crafting a spade from their bones I thus made my escape, and I was praised by the whole world over for my greatness.
But this was not enough. I would not rest until... I had become more well-known than anyone or anything ever.
I had a lot of work to do...
<<<to be continued>>>
It was a hot winter's day in a flagpole (I believe it was July) when my motherfather split into two and so I was borne.
Since the time of my birthing, I excelled at anything and everything. I was barely a year old when I discovered cold fusion, and promptly destroyed all evidence of it.
At five, I discovered the meaning of life, and the true secret of creation. But you don't want to hear about THAT.
People always said "oh, you're so great and perfect and wonderful".
Pffh, tell me something I don't know.
It was on the eve of the 39 and a half thousandth day since my birth when I discovered my greatness should be witnessed by the world.
And so, the begunning of my adventures had beganned...
<<< To be continued >>>
TheGrayShow1467 likes this.
The other day I got really turnt up with some of my homies, and now I can't get turnt down!
Any suggestions would be helpful as I gotta take my badger children to school, and nobody wants to be lit while children are around, ya dig?
Any help would be appreciated, unless it isn't good, in which case it ain't worth my time.
I wasn't always #1 at everything. There was a time when I only got an A on my Calculus final. That made me a little depressed for a while.
I mean, if I don't make everyone else look bad by comparison, then what is even the point?
That all changed when I learned how to breakdance and saved the community center from being demolished.
I later turned it into a worship center where people would come to sing praises to me and bring offerings of their life savings, which I gladly accepted.
Now I got my groove back, and my Calculus professor is an igloo.
Ah... so nice to see justice served.