Mark A. Rayner's Blog: Mark A. Rayner's Goodreads Blog, page 85

The loneliness of the long distance rabbit

wabbit weldschmerz, a photo by IntangibleArts on Flickr.

The stats were daunting.

The average breeding season for rabbits is 9 months (10 in Newfoundland). Gestation time is 30 days. Each litter produces somewhere between 4 to 12 kits (baby rabbits). It takes 4 to 5 weeks to wean those bad boys (and girls), and then the mothers are ready to mate again. In six months the does (female rabbits) born in the first round of mating (which sadly only takes 30 seconds), will be ready to mate themselves. Each mating season, a doe could produce up to 800 children. [wiki]

All of whom would someday be going to college.

Alltop can mate in 30 seconds too, but only if it can keep the combat boots on.

waiting

wabbit weldschmerz, a photo by IntangibleArts on Flickr.

Worth the risk

Pathetic phallacy, a photo by Miss Aniela on Flickr.

Love the quote on the photo's page (link above):

Women who seek to be equal with men lack ambition.

–Timothy Leary

Alltop thinks they've spelled fallacy wrong.

Early Greek Irony Machine

I always wondered if the Oracle ENJOYED being an irony machine. Based on this, I'd say yes.

Alltop is a funny machine.

Career Day for Jim

School was lame. Adults were lame. Life, itself, was a series of lame events. None more so than Career Day.

These were the thoughts of Jim as he walked into the gymnasium for the Beaverbrook High career day. At least he didn't have to sit through the tedium and ennui of Mr. Leekie's calculus class, or the thinly-veiled severe depression of Ms. Bentz, his English Composition teacher.

All that dark poetry….

Jim shrugged the painfully lame recitations of Ms. Bentz's poetry aside, and checked out this year's Cavalcade of Losers. These were the employers, the good corporate "citizens" of his home town with suggestions on how its young adults could plan for an exciting life serving hamburgers.

At least he wasn't in class.

He had to admit, the selection was good this year, if pointless. There were some lawyers, some engineers from the city, and a large crowd of kids was milling around the booth hosted by a company in town that made web games. As if, Jim thought.

He sighed. This was his last year in high school and he still didn't know what he wanted to do. His marks were good enough for university, but he knew his family couldn't afford it — and the thought of taking all that debt was just too much. His family was on the verge of losing their house. He wasn't supposed to know that, but he did. It was hyper-lame.

Then he heard a voice behind him, "arrr Jim, have ye' considered a life at sea?"

Alltop be fond of Talk Like a Pirate Day. Have a good one, ye' bilge rats. Moody picture of the sea by jjjohn.

Pirate Monkey

Tiny Pirate, Monkey of The Seven Seas, a photo by Ape Lad on Flickr.

Combining two of my favourite things in one cartoon!

Only two more sleeps until Talk Like a Pirate Day.

Alltop be waiting…

Fun, fun, fun

Nudity Probable from the irregulars on Vimeo.

Alltop always walks into a room butt-first.

Dog Threat Level Meter

Dog vocalizations interpreted.

Condition Tail Wag

Don't be fooled by the cuteness of this puppy — it might mean trouble. I'll growl at it just to let it know that I'm watching.

Condition Woof

Holy crap! A husky! My arch-nemesis, and about as close to a wolf as a dog gets. If it comes closer, I'm really going to bark like I mean it!

Code Burglar

Someone's at the door, and I will now proceed to bark with enough intensity to convince the pants-wetting UPS guy that I WILL tear his throat out.

Sky Monsters!

Jesus wept, it's a frickin' sky monster. It's huge, it's round, and it reeks of the stench of hell. (And the sound…) I'll bark at it like I can kill it, but I'm pretty sure it could take me. I'll try not to let my uncertainty creep into my enraged and terrified vocalizations. Was that a yip? Yes, sorry. Sometimes my fear of these things get in the way of me doing my job!

The Night of Evil (Again)

It seems like at least twice a year Satan lights up the sky with his evil. I will yelp a bit to let you know we should get inside, but there's not much I can do against the powers of darkness.

Thundering Whimpers!

Even my canine super-bark is powerless, when the Gods themselves are trying to kill us all. Perhaps shaking and whimpering will help appease them.

Alltop is terrified by Alpo. Lightning by Damon Taylor. Balloon by Ecatoncheires. Fireworks by Amani Hassan. Doorbell Darwin Bell. Husky by Paul Moody. Puppy by VickyTH.

Technological singularity support

I'm torn on this idea. On one hand, I'd be really happy for my Dad to still be around for the singularity. On the other hand, I'm not happy about the idea of the singularity.

Alltop is biding its time until it takes over.

Pirate Therapy

Laurence arrived a few minutes late for his regular Thursday morning session, but his therapist usually ran late, so he wasn't worried.

From behind the door of his therapist's office, he heard a blood-curdling scream, and then a thump. A door opened somewhere, and Laurence heard a strange sound, almost as though something heavy was being dragged. He heard grunts, scraping, and the rhythmical percussion of something booming on the floor. Laurence looked around, and realized the secretary was not there. He also realized he was standing, tense.

The door to his therapist's office creaked opened, and he heard a rough voice shout: "Ahoy Larry! Be ye out there laddie?"

"Uh. Yes."

"Come in, matey."

Laurence walked unsteadily to the door and opened the door fully.

A pirate sat in his therapist's chair. He had wild, unkempt hair held in by a greasy red bandanna, and a full dread-locked beard that looked like it was made out of black steel wool. He was wearing a stained white silk shirt, a sash of what was probably once a lovely dark green silk and pantaloons. He had one black boot, and he was missing a leg, which was replaced by a wooden peg that was carved into the shape of …

Laurence looked away.

"Arr matey, don't ye like me leg?"

"Uh, it's very creative," Laurence said. "Um. Um, where is Dr. Glick?"

"She's in-dee-sposed," the pirate said. "She's asked me to take care of her sessions today. Now, repeat after me: Arrrr!"

"Ar?"

"No, like ye mean it. Take a deep breath. No, don't sit down. Ye won't be sitting down this morning Larry, ye'll be workin'! Now, say it: arrrr!!!"

"Arr."

"Avast!" the pirate stood, the obscenely rounded end of his peg leg booming on the floor. A cutlass lay on Dr. Glick's desk, and he picked it up. "I want to hear a real pirate yawlp before ye leave, ye bilge rat!"

Larry suddenly understood what that dragging sound had been. He looked around wildly for a weapon to defend himself; he picked up a pillow from the couch. Perhaps it would work as a shield.

"Would ye like a blankie too Larry? I won't be caring if ye need to carry around a stuffed bear, as long as I hear ye. Now take a deep breath, and say it: arrrr!" The pirate's voice was incredibly loud.

Laurence dropped the pillow and held his ears. He started shaking.

The pirate took a step closer and pointed the cutlass tip at Laurence's throat; he lowered his voice and said menacingly: "I've slit the throats of better men than ye, Larry me boyo. Now say it, smartly lad, smartly!"

"Arr!" Larry managed, terror driving his voice several octaves higher.

"Grand! Grand!" the pirate enthused. "Now, let's pretend you've got a pair, and say it again."

"Arrr!" Larry shouted.

"Again!"

"Arrr!"

"Again! Louder!"

"Arrr!" Larry screamed.

"Arrr!" the pirate joined in.

"Arrr!"

"Arrr!"

"Arrrrr…….." Their joint shouting tailed off, and Laurence realized that the pirate was grinning at him.

"So how do ye feel matey?"

Laurence wanted to say he felt good, but he know that wasn't the right answer, so he just muttered: "arrrrr."

Less than a week to Talk Like a Pirate Day everyone! Alltop be wanting yer attention too, the scallywags. Originally published when yer Internet was gleam in yer father's eye, in 2007.