Exodus

Greetings 'Yo' mama was a woman!!!'... readers. I will explain the void which was my time between blog posts... I went on a nautical quest with a delightful Portuguese chickenman (instead of fisherman, get it? If you do, you have issues) and chickened (fished) for the most exquisite chicken (fish) available in the sea (sea).

HERE WE GO!!! DA DA DA DA DA DA... DA. (It's the friggen' Mario theme... dumbass)

'Twas a cloudless Summer morning, the slightly salty smell of the sea gently tickled the back of my nose. 'Twas a calming and soothing sensation, much to the liking of a mothers hug. The harbor I waited at was near deserted, give or take four ships, which hulls were adorned with barnacles, sea shells and other exotic souvenirs from the sea. Three ships had their sails down and were empty, with it's only inhabitants being seagulls who were perched on the mast of each ship, perhaps were seeking out a meal. Only one ship had any sign of human activity.

As I watched the ship, the sails rose high above my head and I noticed a small Portuguese chickenman pulling over and over again (innuendos are afoot). By turn of fate, the moment I noticed him, he had finished with pulling duty (innuendos are no longer afoot) and noticed me. He then wrapped his big, thick, long... rope (now it's just silly) around a hook to secure the sails. Approaching me with a large friendly grin, we greeted each other with a shake of the hand and we took to the seas to proceeded on our voyage.

Armed with nothing but my iron fortitude, a rubber band, a solar powered blender and grenades (because grenades are fun) the well-equipped Portuguese chickenman and I ventured into the Great Nandos Sea. Prepared for the worst, the intelligent Portuguese chickenman bought along the greatest invention known to man. *Begin Iron Chef Music* Credited as being an item of such pleasure that it was deemed unholy by 78 different religions, where the mere mention of said item caused 3 weeks of disarray in Sweden. The satanic Portuguese chickenman bought along what is known to some as 'The Devils Flower'. TODAY'S THEME INGREDIENT IS... It is commonly known as...

Wait for it...

CONNECT 4... Anyway.

'Twas a small ship, but it had enough room for the compact Portuguese chickenman and I to play Connect 4, let alone whilst we waved our arms around, much to the liking of a murderous, knife-wielding lunatic, not that we did, I'm just saying that we did have enough room to do so... if we wished... which we didn't... fine, maybe a bit... but I swear it was only for a few games... Let's just think about that for a second shall we? Picture an Asian and a Portuguese 'chickenman' on a ship, waving their arms around much to the liking of a murderous, knife-wielding lunatic, trying to play satanic Connect 4. Yeah, romantic. Where was I? Oh yeah.

As the waves lapped against the ship and the wind blew through my hair, I felt at complete peace whilst I dropped the winning, soul devouring, red Connect 4 piece. That is until the loud Portuguese chickenman started to scream and panic. I said to him "Hey, when I lost I didn't scream and panic... that much". Then I noticed that he was pointing at something in the ocean. I peered out and saw a flash of red. 'Twas a comb (that red thing on top of a chickens head, you know...)

taller than Yao Ming. 'Twas the comb of the majestic, mighty, mythical, magical, maniacal, musical, possibly mutated Kraken uhh... CLUCKEN!!! (ROFL, I'M SO F#%&ING CLEVER!!!)

The courageous Portuguese chickenman and I prepared for battle with the raging beast as it charged towards the ship. To add dramatic effect, the winds picked up, rain started to pour from the heavens, and lightning bellowed from the Gods above (probably Thor or something, yeah, I like Thor). The sexy Portuguese chickenman readied his Peri-Peri harpoon with +1 magic as I readied my rubber band into my hand like this.

 Trust me. It can be deadly.

I jumped from the ship onto a conveniently placed rock jutting out of the ocean. The Clucken was in shooting range. "YEAH BITCH!!! I BE PACKIN' HEAT!!!" I screamed as I aimed and shot the rubber band. The rubber band shot out of my fingers with such force that the sea itself parted causing the rubber band to destroy the mighty Clucken in one blow. Here's a picture.

Lucky our ship had a camera... don't ask.

After I saw the Clucken fall, I went unconscious (how cliché. QUIET YOU... yeah, ANYWAY) and I awoke almost 2 months later at home. Everything was normal, it was as though I had never went on the trip, never met the horny Portuguese chickenman and never defeated a giant chicken that dwelled in the ocean. Perhaps 'twas all a dream. All but a dream. Nothing but a dream. Just a dream. It was all a dream... nah I'll stick with. Nothing but a dream. Yeah. Perhaps it was nothing but a dream.

TERMINATE DREAM!!!...AND POST!!!

Genesis

Greetings constantly aging and eventually will perish... readers. As this is my first post on my very own blog, one would assume that I would give a brief introduction to the general flow of my posts and a brief introduction about myself. Well, my posts will not include any information about my living conditions in any way, shape or form what so ever. Therefore, if your a creepy internet stalker that likes to...

"tame the serpent" 

per se, over the happenings of a pre-pubescent girls life, then I suggest you look elsewhere, like Hieu Trung Chau's blog (which you can find in my followers section). Instead, my blog will start with one topic and snowball into a catastrophic train wreck. Much like... if a train were to be placed on top of a mountain of other trains, and the train that was placed on top of the alleged "train mountain" were to cascade down the mountain in a rolling motion. (Stay with me here. This could be possible) Then, as the train rolls down the hill, other trains would latch onto the already moving train and roll together with it and gradually create an enormous "trainball" with enough speed to generate enough heat to meld the trains together. Thus creating a "Snowballing Catastrophic Train Wreck" or "S.C.T.W" for short. That is a brief sample of what my posts will contain. It's as if my posts were roller coaster rides...

I suppose my posts will have the ability to scare small children as well.

But that's beside the point. Like a nosy friend. Who's too obnoxious to figure out that a couple are on a date, so they invite themselves and ruin the whole day. In a way.

I'm not quite sure if anyone would have understood what I meant 2 presses of my enter button ago. So, since I'm such a courteous writer, I shall explain.

COMMENCE EXPLANATION!

Elaboration and Explanation of "That's Beside the Point" Pun.

Written by Masanori Hayashida

When one takes the concept of "That's Beside the Point" in literal terms, one can then conjure an image of what it may mean.

As evident in the diagram, when one declares that a certain fact or statement is "Beside the Point", then one has thus come to the conclusion that the certain fact or statement is obsolete, un-important or un-wanted. Therefore when I used the "Third Wheel Analogy", it was meant that the statement, "I suppose my posts will have the ability to scare small children as well." Was un-important and un-wanted, much to the liking of "a nosy friend. Who's too obnoxious to figure out that a couple are on a date, so they invite themselves and ruin the whole day."

This term may also be used when ones mind careens towards an obsolete, un-important or un-wanted tangent, resulting in a random telling of an utterly obsolete, un-important or un-wanted story.

So perhaps you to may be able to facilitate such a term in daily colloquial speech-versations?

 

Thus concludes the Elaboration and Explanation of the "That's Beside the Point" Pun.

TERMINATE EXPLANATION!...AND POST!