Ow! My Head!

Man, I want to write something funny, but my head hurts. And it’s Friday. I don’t always write on Friday. And it’s especially hard to write on Friday when your head hurts.
You hear about the vote to surrender in the Senate went down 93-6, with Kerry one of the six voting for surrender? That’s kinda funny. Did you know Kerry served in Vietnam? We lost that war. I don’t know if that was Kerry’s fault, but I sure don’t know it wasn’t. Now he wants to lose us another war. I think I’ll question his patriotism.
I wonder if Kerry really is patriotic?
There, his patriotism was questioned and it can’t be taken back. You may say, “Hey! You can’t question his patriotism! It’s not like you served in Vietnam.” No, I didn’t serve in Vietnam, but I was served in a Vietnamese restaurant. The noodles there were odd. But I ate it all. When I go to a Vietnamese restaurant, I’ll see it through to the end. Can Kerry say the same? He can’t even finish a Philly cheese steak.
Where was I? Oh yeah, the vote to surrender. You may say a vote to pull out troops by the end of the year isn’t a vote to surrender. To that, I say, go to a mirror so you can see your dumb monkey face and punch it. If we pull out of Iraq suddenly, we’re surrendering… just like in ‘nam. We’ll have a reputation like France, no one will fear us, and we won’t be able to win anything. I want my children to be in wars they can win. Don’t you?
Well, my head still hurts. I thought it was a coffee headache, but I’ve had plenty of coffee. Anyway, so if I’m not funny, it’s because of my head… and it’s a Friday. If you’re not funny, that’s just because you’re you.
Later, sportsfans.

A Story, Bit by Bit
Hellbender: Part 2 – Protecting the Flank

PREVIOUS
“Bryce, I had a weird dream last night.”
“Is that so, Doug?” Bryce opened his pack and dug through it.
“I was in this room, and it started filling with water. In the water were fish… and they bit my feet. And then I was one of the fish.”
“I guess that’s weird.” Bryce took out a sheet and laid it down in the ditch he and Doug were in.
“But I had another dream before that. I was hanging upside down, and this guy Stan said that the Emperors and some others are aliens called the Fallen and I have to send them back to a prison in some other dimension just like this guy named Jesus did who died penniless and friendless.”
Bryce stared at Doug for a moment. “Did you bring the chips?”
Doug took a pouch of sandwiches out of his pack. “I thought I was bringing the sandwiches this time.”
“No!” Bryce shouted, his outburst emphasized by an explosion nearby that tossed dirt on them. “Now we have too many sandwiches and no chips. I was counting on you, Doug!”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Bryce took out his pouch of sandwiches. “Well, it could have been worse; we could have too many chips and no sandwiches. You at least have the coffee, right?”
Doug took out the thermos. “Of course.” Doug glanced out of the ditch to see a large robot with guns for arms walking by. “Is that theirs or ours?”
“I dunno; I didn’t pay attention at the briefing. I don’t even know what nation we’re fighting today.” Bryce took a bite out of a sandwich.
Among all the explosions, Doug could hear a number of screams. “Do you think we should help?”
Bryce poured some coffee. “Someone has to take up flank positions, and I think we’re best suited for that.”
“Well, Stan told me I need to be careful not to get killed since he needs me to fight the Fallen.”
Bryce moved his rifle so he could lie back more comfortably in the ditch. “Not getting killed is a good idea. I actually have a plan – a great plan – where the prerequisite is we don’t get killed today.”
“What plan?”
“A big one. We’ll finally get out of these pointless battles and onto our path to power and fortune.”
Bryce always had plans like that. So far, none had worked, but each new one seemed closer to working… and closer to getting them imprisoned or killed.
A woman screamed nearby.
Doug started to get up. “I think we should help.”
Bryce grabbed Doug and pulled him back down into the ditch. “Helping is how you get killed. And how do you even know that wasn’t one of their soldiers? Listen to that Stan guy and stay here and eat your sandwiches.”
After a little hesitation, Doug picked up a sandwich. “Stan told me he is God.”
Bryce sighed. “Everyone says they’re God these days. There’s no God, Doug. If there were, everything wouldn’t be so pointless.”
“Aren’t we supposed to believe our Empress is God?”
Bryce finished chewing a bite from his sandwich. “We’re supposed to pretend to believe. I don’t think anyone actually believes that. A real god would be someone who created the whole universe and everything, and none of the idiots in charge of these stupid warring nations could have done that.”
“Then who did?” Doug asked with a full mouth.
“Probably no one.” There was another explosion near then, pelting them with dirt and rocks. “That is getting annoying.”
“Stan says that the Emperors and others like them can’t be killed… not even if you shot them in the face.”
“If that’s true, why aren’t they out here fighting?” Bryce took a sip of coffee. “I, for one, am quite concerned about projectiles to the face. So, this Stan guy you dreamed about, he wanted you to take on these invulnerable aliens.”
“He said I’m special.”
A few bullets whistled overhead. “Hadn’t heard that used as a synonym for ‘retarded’ in some time.”
“Do you know what The Great War was about, Bryce?”
“Land, power, slights real and imagined… same as any other war.” There was another nearby explosion, and Bryce pulled his rifle closer. “This new inquisitive Doug is getting kind of annoying. Can’t we just eat our sandwiches in peace and quiet like every other battle we’ve been in? I really do have a great new venture for us once this is over, so I’m quite keen on the ‘not getting killed.’ Sitting quietly behind the fray seems to have always worked well to that end, so let’s stick to it.”
“Okay.” Doug took another bite of his sandwich but found it hard to ignore the screams of what could be his fellow comrades. He peeked out of the safety of their ditch once again. It was hard to see through the smoke and the dirt being thrown in the air, though. The large robot was busy shooting at something that was luckily nowhere near them. “I wonder how our side is doing.”
“If you’re really curious, turn on your radio. I find the things annoying, though.”
Doug turned on his radio to hear a bunch of screams. He turned it off. “Did you notice how the squad this time is all women… except for us?”
Bryce smirked. “I more than noticed; I took advantage of the situation.”
“I wonder why that is.”
“I don’t. The government always has some stupid reason for everything.” He then smiled at Doug. “So, is there one you have your eye on?”
“I like Charlene.”
Bryce dropped his sandwich. “That psycho!?”
“I think she’s nice… in her own way. And she’s cute.”
“That’s kind of hard to notice since she’s always covered in someone else’s blood.”
Doug frowned. “Hey, you asked. I like her.”
“Die, bitch!” someone screamed as two people fell into the ditch. It was Charlene struggling with an enemy soldier over a knife.
“Speaking of the devil.” Bryce pulled the sandwiches to safety and nudged Doug. “Here’s your chance; ask her out.”
NEXT

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Help Save Science Fiction at Jim Baen’s Universe!

Prayers for Jim Baen

Jim Baen of Baen Publishing has suffered a stroke. Please, keep him in your prayers.
I don’t know him very well except for a few encounters on the internet (he once chatted with my writing group via AIM giving us advice), but he seem like a great guy. It’s through his work that many authors had a chance to be published who never would have, and I’ve certainly found encouragement from him myself. He’s an icon in the world of SF, and the publishing world would be a much worse place without him.
UPDATE: I was told to let you know that Jim had express, and highly detailed contingency plans, both personal and business, in place, and both Baen Publishing Enterprises LLC and Jim Baen’s Universe magazine are operating normally under those contingency plans.
Basically, business is as normal with publishing and with the new magazine (if this news made any of you hesitant about subscribing). Still, things won’t be the same without him.

Friday Catblogging

Since it’s Friday, I thought I’d spread the joy of humor-free, apolitical Friday Catblogging to IMAO (aka “I-MEOW”).
Sure, some of the IMAO bloggers have cats, but we all know that I’m the least-funny of the IMAO bloggers, so I’m the one who’s stuck to resorting to cat photos and fart jokes.
Anyway, it’s time for Piper and Nardo:


If you’re not sure how this absurd scene pertains to IMAO, since IMAO is famous for that “political humor” thing, it doesn’t. If you must have some semblance of politics or humor in everything you read here, just assume that Piper and Nardo are… um…
Help me out here. Make your suggestions in the comments how this scene is, in fact, a political allegory.


You can find more examples of Friday catblogging by searching a blog search engine such as Technorati for “catblogging.”
You can also find a roundup of catblogging posts at The Friday Ark, located at The Modulator blog. Then, when the weekend is nearly over, head over to The Carnival of the Cats for more kitty goodness. There’s also a Flikr Group called Furry Friday.
Add to that Weekend Catblogging at Eatstuff.
Anybody I miss?