Blogging time

Iowa, Iowa, Iowa! I don't know why I just wrote that, but hey! Who gives a fiddelers hair!? Not much happening this week, but Kinsale Artweek was on, *Sarcastic voice* YEAH!
Now, onto this weeks writings;
 This first one was based on a picture of sevral cassettes. Read this on Transformers to understand the story, a little.

Vant looked down at the cassettes.
" You think we should build our spy drones like cassettes?" He asked, Dr.Zog nodded.
"Small, but enough mass for a robot." He replied, with a sincerity that told Vant Zog wasn't joking.
" There is one major fault with your master plan," Commented Vant in a condisending tone, Zog put his head forward and smiled in underserved hope. " No-one has used a cassette for, oh, A Thousand Years!"
Zog pulled back in shock, awe, horror and an emotion that I can only describe as Cinnamon-like.
" But, But Sir!" He Stummered;
" I don't care for excuses! We have plans, so stop delaying them!" Roared Vant.
" But, this was in the original show. The one your plans are based on, they even made toys of the cassette-bots!" Zog replied in confusion, Vant was stunned for a second, and then started to laugh; Of Course! Why didn't I think of it before, TOYS!

The next one is a poem based on some non-sense words;
Red Sab-Dyte
A Forgottern lake,
A Mountain Lost,
In all the ages of man,
no battle is as famous, or as lost,
At the valley between the mountain of Sab
and the crystal lake Dyte,
lays a field cloaked in Veridian grass,
And that lone warrior
Said it's beauty was lost,
to waves of red,
and hills of the dead,
He was the last,
who gave the field's name,
Sab-Dyte,
And between that Lake and Mountain,
that battle has only one name,
Red Sab-Dyte.

This one was based when we where each given a piece of paper, and had to choose an object in the room, and write on the paper a question that object would ask if it could talk. We then folded the paper and handed it to the next person. They wrote the answer to their object's question on the paper and then handed it to the third person who wrote a poem based on the two now revealed lines, here's my poem:

Am I alive?
I'll never know for he's too far away and I have no legs,
And I cannot yell or whisper,
and he never comes here to listen,
or maybe he can't,
these chains bind me,
and I can't stop the rats,
only the heat of the furance will stop them,
as all to often I catch one,
and kill it,
and cook it,
Noble men would call it Savarery,
I call it survival,
But in the end why do I try,
I'll never be released from this pit,
and those who both could and would free me,
are either imprisoned or lost,
so if you read these lines,
never give up your hopes in this pit,
but never raise them either.

Not much going on really, I haven't gone to anything for K.A.W. except an ABBA tribute band, who sucked. The warm up band was far better, that band was called the popazettas or something,  but beware they are moe-town!
   The Old Boring one,
                       Me