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224 S 200 W, Suite #250
Salt Lake City, UT 84101
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© 2024 Daz Productions Inc. All Rights Reserved.
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No, not hammers... the next big shortage is going to be Polygons... I wrote a whole in-depth article about it... Here's a short excerpt...
"Everything we take for granted in the modern world is made of polygons. Polygons have come to be the most important commodity on earth for the past three decades and have become more important than petroleum, spandex pants or denture cream…
From our social media avatars and our favorite video game characters to our socks and family members, everything these days is comprised of polygons… Yet few consumers really understand what they are and where they come from.
Who can forget the prophetic line from the 1967 film “The Graduate”, where Robert Downy Jr’s character, Tony Stark takes aside the young Peter Parker played by Dustin Hoffman and utters this timeless bit of advice… “I want to say one word to you… just one word… “Polygons”…”
Although Polygons had been around much longer than 1967, by 1968 more than 75% of American households had .01 or more items comprised of polygons.
By 1970 that number shot up to .02 and by 1980 those numbers were even bigger.
Today they are probably even bigger than that. "
It goes on for a few more thousand words, but it's quite riveting... it rips away the veil of secrecy from the polygon industry and actually cost the life of one of my confidential sources...
He was a squirrel... and he was run over crossing the street, but it was probably by someone employed by the polygon industry... Which reminds me... I really gotta go get a shovel and scrape him up... it's been days and he's getting really rotty...
I'm expecting I'll probably get a Nobel prize for journalism or a Baskin Robins coupon for a free sundae... either one is fine... but it's going to be a huge revelation and it's going to drop ahead of the wave, so people will know what the polygon billionaires are planning... none of this soft media coverage after the fact... wondering "oooh how did this happen?" or just parroting industry spin and ridiculous explanations.
I even go into the history of polygon mining... for example, did you know that a brothel in 18th century France started the first polygon craze?
There are lots of other amazing fact like that... Probably nobody would read it because it's so interesting, and has lots of words (most of them spelled correctly too)... but maybe I'll post it here or in the New York Daily Times... if that exists... whichever.
But yeah... polygons... hold on to them and stock up before the "shortage".
nah, I always keep a few voxels, nurbs and metaballs handy in case
If Band-Aids™ were candy, what would they taste like?
scabs
...it was 72° with a mix of clouds and sun here when I left around 15:30, then the clouds began to thicken and it started spitting out dropping the temperature by 10°. Th forcast called for almost the whole week being dry sunny and in the 70s and even a couple days in the low 80s. Once again it was revised downward with more water from the sky thrown in for good measure.
Beginning to feel this may be like 1989 when we had the "year without summer".
Krypto once again nails it......
Most years here are a year without winter. Sometimes it seems winter is on a weekend.
Today I am a cereal killer!
I see... Then perhaps you can shed some light on the details of this incident?
Someone does like breakfast apparently.
Johnny, did you get that cereal box open? Yeah mom, I killed it!
this thread has turned flakey
Cheerios™. The only cereal that tastes exactly like the box it comes in, even before it spends any time in said box.
If you like the cereal, my apologies, no offense meant.
...Shredded Wheat, the "Brillo Pad™" of breakfast cereals.
"Wheaties" or "GrapeNuts".
(Old people cereal.) The trick with GrapeNuts is to turn them into a sweet warm mush by using just a little very hot water instead of drowning them in cold milk. Just enough water to dampen and begin to mushify the "nuts". The sweetness comes from real honey drizzled over the top. Mmmm... mush!
And you don't need a lot of GrapeNuts for a meal. They're very compact, very dense, so just 1/3 or even 1/4 cup of cereal is enough for a fiber & carb rich breakfast, toss in 5 ounces of V8 juice and a cup of coffee. Breakfast of old nerds.
I prefer bacon and egg on toast myself
maybe a fried tomato too as it also cleans the pan
but generally I don't eat breakfast at at, just a Nexium tablet washed down with a glass of water
(Please read the the following post in the voice of the late Jeremy Brett, one of the finest portrayers of Sherlock Holmes)
Well, now I see several forumites have chosen to comment on this unfortunate act of cereal murder...
What you may not realize is this was my intention all along.
For I have gathered you here today to after a lengthy disquisition, reveal the identity of the killer...
It is a sad fact of life that crime is common, yet logic is rare. Therefore it is upon the logic rather than upon the crime that I shall dwell and by the fine edge of the scalpel of logic we will dissect this crime.
Let us first examine the victim’s bloody corpse.
To the untrained eye, there would appear to be but one assailant, yet if one were to examine the unfortunate corpse carefully, they would notice that it was the resting place of two murder weapons.
Clearly no human can wield two such weapons simultaneously, therefore two assassins visited the victim!
But why?
What could possibly enrage two individuals to the point that they would use a rusty meat cleaver and machete upon an innocent box?
Curious is it not?
But two individuals committing such a well coordinated heinous act would seem impossible.
The planning and execution, would seem all but impossible for any single individual to accomplish.
Yet it would seem to be as I have often said... That when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must probably be close enough to the truth that people will believe whatever you say!
You see, my methods are founded on the observation of trifles...
But some trifles are mere truffles of coincidence, mushrooms growing on the surface of casual observation, obscuring deeper meaning and secluded intent.
Let us now turn our attention to our present audience…
First and foremost Miss Wendy would appear to be the most logical suspect, she is Australian and Australia was founded by stabby riff-raff and hooligans... yet in her name there is our first clue as to her personality, and therefore innocence… she “luvs cats”... and since no one who luvs cats can be a murderer, no matter how Australian they are, we must therefore eliminate Miss Wendy!
Watson!… put down the gun, I meant “as a suspect”…
Always so eager to administer justice my good man… but never willing to observe the obvious, which at this moment is that I have not yet finished my dissertation on who the murderer or murderers were… So impulsive, yet you are the one fixed point in a changing age my friend.
But I digress…
Next we have Monsieur Firstbastion…
A curious name, and an unlikely combination of English and French and an obvious portmanteau of “first” and “bastion”…
The meaning of “first” speaks for itself, but bastion seeks to disguise a deeper more clandestine truth… The history of bastion can be traced through Middle French to the Old Italian verb “bastire”, which means "to build.", but a bastion is also the projecting part of a fortification built at an angle to the line of a wall, so as to allow defensive fire in several directions, furthermore the word carries with it a connotation of honor, implying an institution, place, or person strongly defending or upholding particular principles, attitudes, or activities…
If we were to examine our guest a bit closer we would note that his thin handlebar mustache is clearly fake and hastily glued on upside down… there are great bags beneath his eyes, his hands are rough and calloused, there is dirt beneath his fingernails and his clothing is worn threadbare and on the sleeve of his right hand is an incriminating red stain…
To the uninitiated, he would instantly seem to be the perfect suspect, a suspicious looking ruffian with blood on his hands…
Watson! Put the gun down… I am not through yet…
You see the man before you is in fact not who he seems… he is in fact the late Count Umberto DeAssassino, who’s very surname implies murder…
Yet of this crime he is innocent…
Our good Count here was framed for the murder of the King of Italy’s favorite donkey and was forced to fake his death, flee his estate in Naples and adopt a new life as a published artist, toiling in the deep dark content mines planning his revenge on his rival who framed him… the long hours in the content mines have clearly taken their toll reducing the poor man to the state we see… even the stain on his sleeve is misleading… the trained eye would detect the presence of Mortadella stains on the Count’s clothing and the one on his sleeve revealed to be ketchup, Ketchup you see comes from the Hokkien Chinese word, kê-tsiap, the name of a sauce derived from fermented fish and Hokkien is a Southern Min language originating from the Minnan region in the south-eastern part of Fujian Province in Southeastern Mainland China, Fujian province being the location of the Mortadella factory the Count’s family established to sell this Italian sausage to wealthy Chinese merchants.
With these facts before us, we are forced to conclude that the count was at his desk eating sausage when the crime was committed.
Watson! I said do NOT shoot him!
If I may continue…
Our next most obvious suspect is Baron Heinrich Van Leathergryphon III, eccentric collector of minerals, cyrillic keyboards and Russia literature.
While he may outwardly appear to be a gruff, leather-clad curmudgeon who smuggles wombats, he is in fact a kindly leather-clad curmudgeon who is a champion of wombat rights… known only to a trusted few by his secret identity, the good “Comrade Wombatski” here has dedicated his life to rehabilitating and educating illegally smuggled wombats.
One would need only to look to the medallion he wears around his neck to reveal his true nature… the talisman of The Ancient Order of The Surly Squirrel… depicting the Squirrel of Justice, it’s whip cracking, meting out justice to those who would abuse and defile innocent wombats.
Knowing this we can conclude that The Ancient Order of The Surly Squirrel’s well documented oath of honor would preclude the Baron from using a machete or rusty meat clever to commit bloody murder.
And furthermore he looks too tired to have been doing much more than preparing a warm bowl of Okroshka, a complicated Russian soup made with water, sour cream, vinegar, salt, dill, green onions, ham, potatoes, eggs, and cucumbers… the crumbs and stains of which adorn his signature silk Baron scarf…
Next we have Mr. Kyoto Kid…
WATSON!! Good lord man! I said put the gun away! You could have killed him!
My apologies Mr. Kid… it’s hardly a flesh wound and barely nicked the skull…
Watson, go sit down and have a cup of tea… your frayed nerves are getting the better of you!
If I may continue…
While he goes by the pseudonym of “Kyoto Kid”, Mr. Kid is neither from Kyoto nor a kid… simple observation of his mannerisms will lead one to conclude he is not the infamous gunfighter known as Kyoto Kid, but that in actuality he acquired the name from the real Kyoto Kid to settle a poker debt when the original Kyoto Kid could not cover what he owed, he is now using this newly procured identity towards an as of yet undetermined goal...
Additionally, the yellow material under his fingernails, assorted stains on his lapel and what appears to be various types of cheeses sticking out of his pockets all indicate he is in fact an undercover agent of The Wisconsin Cheesemaker’s Guild, no doubt investigating the disappearance of a shipment of Cheddar that was bound for the King of Belgium…
As an agent of The Wisconsin Cheesemaker’s Guild, he has sworn an oath to never commit murder on a Tuesday and as such can be excluded from our list suspects.
This leaves only Miss Sfariah and Mr. Tjohn…
Mr. Tjohn by all outward appearances would seem to be a good solid citizen… mild mannered and a stalwart defender of cereals.
But appearances can be deceiving…
Watson!
Stop shooting people before I finish accusing them of the crime!
Sorry about that… it looks like he missed anyway…
Unbelievable Watson!… Your aim is atrocious! I’m extremely disappointed in you!
As I was saying…
The name Tjohn puzzled me somewhat, reminding me of another case I had investigated some time ago… one of the associates of a underworld figure was a Crackerjack prize collector who would often deal with a shadowy figure who went by the alias of “Tomahawk Johnson”.
This tomahawk person would often travel with small dog dressed as a French mime, dressed as cat, masquerading as a capybara.
At first I thought nothing of it, but then upon noticing copious amounts of what could only be corgi fur on the clothing of Mr. Tjohn, I knew something sinister was afoot…
On the streets, there were rumors of this Tomahawk person seeking information about a special box of Cheerios that contained a very unique and rare prize… the Mazarin stone, the stone once belonged to Cardinal Jules Mazarin, who, upon his death in 1661, bequeathed to the French monarch a collection of eighteen diamonds thereafter called the "Mazarin Diamonds".
These diamonds were eventually purchased by the General Foods Corporation as special prizes to be given away, hidden in boxes of Cheerios cereal. But crossing the Atlantic the ship carrying them sank in a storm, and they were all lost… but rumors had it that one survived.
The word was that this one box was hiding somewhere in London.
Once Mr. Tomahawk heard of this he immediately headed out to the one place he knew he’d find it… but when he and his little dog arrived it was already dead and the prize missing… in frustration and anger he stuck the lifeless corpse with the one thing he had at hand, his lucky rusty meat cleaver which he wore on a sliver chain around his neck.
Although he is a scoundrel and a corpse hacker, he is not a murderer are you Mr. Tjohn?
Watson! I said NOT a murderer! Go finish your tea!
Sorry about the impetuous actions of my assistant, Mr. Tjohn… it’s just a minor wound and I’m sure it’ll stop bleeding eventually… As soon as Dr. Watson has finished his tea, he’ll attend to your wound… he’s the finest veterinarian in the entire city… and I’m positive if he can avoid shooting you again, you will be just fine.
Forgive me while I wrap this up.
Our final suspect is the sweet Miss Sfariah…
She did it, she admitted it right from the beginning, she kills cereal all the time, has tons of machetes, stabs stuff with them all the time and her yearbook voted her “Most Likely To Be A Machete Murderer”…
Watson take her into custody!…
Watson, this is no time for a nap!…
Wait were did she go?…
Come Watson, the game is a foot!
(End scene)
...I just wish my state stopped giving away driver's licences in specially marked boxers of cereal. Crikey people don't know how to aim turns or parallel park anymore, as well as even know what a one way street or stop sign is and what turn signal lever is for.
@ McGyver.
...bravo .
well written, I could actually hear it in his voice.
[bugger been trying to insert an image of clapping hands but keep getting this rubbish:
×Incorrect string value: '\xF0\x9F\x91\x8F" ...' for column `vanilla`.`GDN_Log`.`Data` at row 1|Gdn_Database|Query|insert GDN_Log (`Operation`, `RecordType`, `RecordID`, `RecordUserID`, `RecordIPAddress`, `RecordDate`, `InsertUserID`, `InsertIPAddress`, `DateInserted`, `ParentRecordID`, `CategoryID`, `OtherUserIDs`, `Data`) values (:Operation, :RecordType, :RecordID, :RecordUserID, :RecordIPAddress, :RecordDate, :InsertUserID, :InsertIPAddress, :DateInserted, :ParentRecordID, :CategoryID, :OtherUserIDs, :Data)
...something's broken here.]
on top of it another infuriating bad gateway error.
I have a Pink Floyd shirt I've worn a few times, but I know very little about them. I think something about Syd Barrett and a moon.
you might have known more when you were comfortably numb
if you can even remember a Pink Floyd concert you did not really experience one,
hell I got high from the secondhand smoke in Elder park across the Torrens river listening for free when they played Memorial Drive in Adelaide!
I distinctly remember "an orange swirly thing in space!". Ohhh wait....that was Red Dwarf.
I distinctly remember..........almost nothing then. Best freakin' concert(s) I've never experienced!
...The lunatic is on the grass
The lunatic is on the grass
Remembering games and daisy chains and laughs
Got to keep the loonies on the path
Anyone here from Hastromil?
Back when it was new, I lost myself in the ether once, while listening to Pink Floyd "Meddle" album. Especially the 2nd side which is the song "Echoes". When it ends, it fades-out and if your record player (yes vinyl LP records) repeats the last record on the stack instead of shutting off, you get the fade-in at the beginning of the side, over, and over, until you come out of your trance. I imagined all sorts of wondrous things that night. I watched notes form in the air and dance like some semi-subconsious Disney cartoon. Great song to space out on.
...+1
Is that like divoceville because I got one of those this year....and DAZ didn't cause it....LOL
Could have went to a male revue tonight but figured I could save some money by buing some beer and opening daz studio and posing a naked Mike or two....LOL
I got money on the way, but when will it come?
Tomorrow at 3:45 PM EST...
You are to go to the overpass next to the railroad tracks on Lake Copasquat Boulevard.
There you will meet the one armed man with a toothbrush mustache (do not mention that it looks like a Hitler mustache, he is very sensitive about that, he's been trying to grow a full handlebar mustache, but it won't grow to the sides).
You will hand him three acorns and a paper clip and tell him "The moon looks lovely in November", he will respond "I know, my chinchilla appreciates it greatly", you will then clap your hands four time and do a short jig and quack like a mallard duck until he hands you a briefcase.
You will take the briefcase and walk carefully across the street to the parking lot of the plumbing supply company "Big Bob's Pipes Galore".
Behind the large azalea bush is a boxwood shrub and at the base will be a standard hamster sized Idaho potato.
Slice the potato lengthwise.
Inside the potato is the key to a Post Office Box which can be found within "Big Moe's Mailboxs & Stuff", located between the Adult Entertainment Shop "Big Betty's Naughty Nook" and the exterminator supply shop "Big Dave's Dead Bug Supply".
Present the key to the man with a full handlebar mustache behind the desk.
He will hand you a new key and direct you to Post Office Box A472G.
Inside this mailbox you will find another key and a half eaten donut. Discard the donut and take the key.
Do not eat the donut.
It is very old.
Take this key to the man at the desk and he will hand you back the key you just gave him.
Do not blink when handing him the key or it will startle him and he will run away.
Proceed back to the boxwood shrub and use the key to open the briefcase... inside you will find a Bologna sandwich and a half eaten cupcake.
You may eat the cupcake.
It is not that old.
Written on one of the bologna slices are the directions to a retirement home for hairy nuns.
Proceed to the nunnery without dropping or eating the sandwich.
You must arrive there by exactly 4:15 PM and no later than 5 PM.
Knock on the main door seven and a half times while making cat sounds.
A nun with a handlebar mustache will answer the door.
You will then hand her the sandwich and say "This lovely luncheon snack is yours to keep".
She will eat the sandwich and then hand you another key.
You must use this key to lock the briefcase. Make sure you have removed the cupcake first.
You must now race back across town to the one armed man under the overpass you must return back there by precisely 4:48 PM... if you arrive one minute late he will be very rude and sarcastic, so spare no effort in getting there at exactly 4:48 PM.
Present the locked briefcase to him and he will unlock it and place the full amount of money you have coming to you inside of it.
Return to the Boxwood shrub and dispose of the briefcase and key and the cupcake if you haven't already.
Good luck.
The moment it gets there.