Local time where you're at. ("Where you're at"?)

[SCENE:  Deep inside that sector of the Fifth Intergalatic Realm™ known as the Southern Command.  Slow pan to a point about 140 degrees from the opening shot.

We then see a spatial displacement come into view.  The translucent shimmer becomes the faint outlines of an image, which then coalesces into an oversized, seemingly-upside-down Klingon Bird-of-Prey.

Cut to:  the bridge of the recently repaired ISS Pegasus, which has just decloaked someplace it was not previously known to be.]

VENOMOUS:  And that’s a problem, Narrator?

KORRIOTH:  Well, we usually file a flight plan with someone, y’know.

VENOMOUS:  Look, Bumpy, when I go on vacation, I don’t give a shit if anyone  know where I’m gonna be…

K’HADIBAK’H:  Uh, guys…

KORRIOTH:  …you know, so a certain Black Helicopter Fleet™ isn’t tempted to engage in…

[At that very moment, the bridge is rocked violently, back & forth.  Cut to previous external view, and the Bird-of-Prey is now surrounded by what seems to be four Husnock warships, each taking turns firing on Pegasus.

Cut back to Pegasus'  bridge.]

KORRIOTH:  …target practice.

K’HADIBAK’H:  Four warships, Admiral.  IDs… [Kha double-checks his board] …it’s the Black Helicopter Fleet™, sir.

T-BONE McMANX:  Admiral, we’re being hailed.

VENOMOUS (with a very  annoyed look on his face):  (sigh) On screen.

[On the viewscreen, space is replaced by a very familiar image.]

VENOMOUS:  Supreme General Rayegun.

RAYEGUN:  What did I tell you about coming through the Southern Command™ without proper permittage-ery?

VENOMOUS:  And what did I tell you about the Southern Command™ being part of my  Realm™?

[The Supreme General of the Realm™ renders what could only be described as a smart-assed smirk.]

RAYEGUN:  Damned straight, Narrator.

VENOMOUS:  I do  hope you’re enjoying your new toys, General.  Figures you’d hog ‘em all and not share…

RAYEGUN:  Funny you should mention that…

[Cut to external view.  Yet another spatial displacement shimmers & coalesces into a fifth Husnock battlecruiser.

Cut back to Pegasus'  viewscreen.

RAYEGUN:  Meet your new flagship, Admiral - ISS Vengeance.

[It's a Realm™ first:  Admiral Darth Venomous...is speechless.]

RAYEGUN:  What did I tell you, Korrioth?

KORRIOTH:  Five hundred credits on their way, General.

VENOMOUS:  Wait.  You had a bet  on this…?

[Rayegun & Korrioth look away & adopt feral grins as we fade to black...]

—

IN THE SOUTHERN COMMAND – She had been christened Excelsior II.

That was before I got it out on Texas State Highway 130.  (For the Uninitiated™, that’s the Austin-to-San Antonio toll road, where the speed limits run up to 85.  Not that anyone ever observes them…heh…heh…heh…)

This car makes the original Excelsior  feel like driving my old Cavalier.

Damn.  Just, damn. 

(This one will stay on top all day.  Look below for new posts – today only.

And HDD – I don’t wanna hear it, okay?  I already know what you think of all this.  This is more for me than for anyone else.)

—

(ED. NOTE:  The following originally appeared in this space a couple of years ago.  (Don’t bother clicking the link – it’s not there anymore, thanks to Internet America and their piss-poor bookkeeping.)  I’m reprinting it now, with appropriate tweaks.

I do love you, son.  I realize your mother and grandparents will try mightily to persuade you that I don’t – but I do, very much.  Someday – hopefully – I’ll get to tell you to your face.)

I may not post as much as I used to…

OZY McCOOL:  May  not?

KORRIOTH:  (snort!)

MERLIN: 

Ever’body’s gotta be a comic, don’t they? (sigh)

…but I sure as hell don’t neglect to post this.

Ten.

Story for you guys from nearly 15 years ago.

I had just proposed to Her Doublewideness not too long previous, and in preparation for the Wedding To End All Weddings™, I had moved into a nice little one-bedroom apartment in the Sleepy Little Town™ of Rockwall, TX.  (Steffi, of course, had a key.  That’s foreshadowing.  Remember it.)

At the time, I was working two jobs – an eight-to-fiver in an office, and a dispatching job on the weekends for the courier company I’d worked days for previously.

As fate would have it, my graveyard relief at the dispatching job this one Sunday night phoned in sick.  And, as fate would also have it, no replacement was available.  Ergo, I would have to work a double shift.  And also ergo (grin), I would be forced to work my eight-to-fiver on zero sleep.

Not a lot of fun.

Anyway, I phoned my then-fiancee, let her know the situation, and kindly asked her if she could come from Sulphur Springs, grab a change of clothes out of the apartment, and come to dispatch to drop them off.  (At the time, I was in a t-shirt & jeans, my apartment was thirty minutes away, and an hour to my eight-to-fiver from there.  No way could I have made it there and back – hence, the call for help to the fiancee. This is also foreshadowing. Remember it.)

Fiancee hemmed & hawed, but eventually agreed that yes, she could do this for the guy she was ultimately going to spend the rest of her life with.  This was 1430 hours.

Fast forward to 1800 hours.  I received a call from Fiancee Unit™, ostensibly apologetic, whereupon she said that she had to go to “church”, and couldn’t come down.

Long story short, I subsequently had to call my eight-to-fiver, report in “sick”, and went home after work to sleep until afternoon.  Didn’t hurt my standing there, but Mondays were a hellaciously busy day at that particular company, and it didn’t help my cause any.

Now, at the time of Doublewide Fiancee’s refusal, I figured “okay, one-off, no biggie, not a hill I want to die on”, and ignored the sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach.  Had I realized at the time that this was a Huge Honkin’ Red Flag O’ Doom™ as to her general dependability, I’d have never married the bitch.  I’d have told her the minute she failed to come through for me, “Okay, sweetie, just drop off the key next time you see me, and have a nice life”.

Should’ve taught me not to ignore the sickening feeling.  But hell – what do I know, hm?

I tell you this story, Denizens, to compare & contrast something that happened to me in San Diego last year at the mum-in-law’s funeral.  Friday was the day of the service, and we started off for the chapel not having had time for a proper breakfast.  So we grabbed a couple hot dogs each on the way.

After the funeral was the reception, whereupon there was fried chicken, pizza, mac ‘n cheese, Chinese, etc, etc, ad infinitum, ad nauseam.  Particular emphasis on the ad nauseam – I posted a pic that I’m sure a couple of you saw.  (Yes, that’s exactly how I was feeling at the time.)

Get back to our lodging for the week, and I’m…well, let’s just say I’ve had better days, mkay?

So here I am in the can.  Doubled over in pain, and without going into TMI mode, Pepto’s not going to be of any help.

I’m still in my Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes, and I’m overheating.  I need to get into a t-shirt & shorts pretty quickly, but I’m not in any condition to venture out from the can at that moment in time.  So I send a text to Mrs. Venomous – “Honey, I need you to get me a t-shirt & my shorts, okay?”

Five minutes go by.  Ten.  Fifteen.

I’m starting to wonder just where the hell she is, when a thought from the Lord (and He’s the only one who could have put this thought there at the time) comes, unbidden, into my head.

“Have faith in your wife”.

Not three seconds later comes a knock on the door – “Honey???”

She slides the clothing under the door, I’m in t-shirt & shorts not too long thereafter, and all turns out well; the day is officially saved.

The point of all this:  I have a pretty damned hellacious wife.  She’s got my back.

JUST LIKE YOU SHOULD HAVE ALL THOSE YEARS AGO, STEFFI, YOU STUPID-ASSED BIMBO!

Mrs. Venomous – I love you.

Realm™ Headquarters to Southern Command – come in, please.

Southern Command, do you copy?

[SCENE:  Deep space.  His Rudeness, Lord Darth Venomous is on his way back from a (ahem) personal errand...]

VENOMOUS:  I don’t think I like the tone of your “voice”, Narrator.

[And just what were you doing out of pocket for so long, (sarc) my liege????? (/sarc) (As if we didn't...gakkkkk...akkkkk)]

VENOMOUS:  Comprehension & cognizant thinking aren’t your strong suits, are they, dickweed?  (looks offstage, as the Narrator drops to the floor with a very  hollow sound)  Awright, Understudy, your turn.

[...from a personal errand, and is traveling in his personal courier, the Scorpion-class Excelsior.

A blinking console light catches the Admiral's attention.  He opens a channel.]

VENOMOUS:  Excelsior, Venomous.

KORRIOTH (over speaker):  Korriorh, Admiral.  Stellar cartography update for you, sir.

VENOMOUS:  Very good, Kor, shoot it through.

[He touches a few more switches and opens a separate channel to receive the download.  After five minutes, the download completes and the software channel closes.

At that very moment, everything goes dark as Excelsior  loses power & drops out of warp.

Lord Venomous sits there, non-plussed.]

VENOMOUS:  No, Narrator, just wondering what to do when I get back.

[Get back, m'lord?]

VENOMOUS:  Whether to Force-choke the p’tahk, or use my lightsaber to cut out one of his hearts.

—

Ever had an Ubuntu kernel update hose your system, Denizens?

That’s three days I’ll never get back.

Sigh.

Ever notice that the heterophobic assholes who are doing their damndest to shove homosexual marriage down our throats…were (and are) the same bigoted anti-Christian bastards who squeam about us attempting to “impose our morals” on everyone else?

(Yeah, I know it’s stating the obvious.  I’m just sayin’.)

I’m getting awfully damned good at re-doing my Linux box. (sigh)

Given my workload and schedule nowadays, it’s looking more and more like this is going to become a weekend blog.

If that.

Denizens, whilst I continue to rebuild my system (read:  while I continue to amass funds to purchase a new Big Drive™ and some memory upgrades), your homework assignment is to read this (hat tip:  LC Lobo of the Rott).

“Gird your loins”, as Vice-Perpetrator Hair-Butt Plugs would say.  It’s coming.

Denizens…uh…it’s Mrs. Venomous’ birthday.

Can someone hide me for the next 72 hours? (running, ducking, gnashing teeth)

[SCENE:  Realm™ spacedock.  Previously ready to resume her travels, ISS Pegasus  floats, adrift (save for the artificial moorings securing her), mostly powerless.

Cut to the bridge, where General Korrioth busies himself attempting to fix the latest computer crash.  In walks engineer Ozymandias McCool with padd in hand.]

KORRIOTH:  Ah, there you are, McCool.  Report, please.

[McCool is rather taken aback - he's not used to this cordiality from the Klingon-Vulcan hybrid - but does an admirable job of recovery.]

OZY McCOOL:  Not the best news, General.  Probably another week or so to bring the main core online.  Has anyone notified the Admiral yet?

KORRIOTH (grinning wolfishly):  Oh, he knows, Commander.  He knows…

[Cut to SCENE:  Inside the Facebook energy ribbon from the original "Death" series.  From an empty view, two humans, a Klingon, a Romulan and several Bynars & Jawas crash to the floor, lifeless.

Pan the camera to a hooded figure, both arms outstreched, both hands making a Force-choke gesture.

The figure slowly moves his hands to his hood and removes it, revealing Lord Darth Venomous, whose agitated countenance includes a pair of dazzlingly bright purple eyes.]

VENOMOUS:  Does anybody else  want to try and say it’s not their fault?!?!?!

—

Okay, guys, the Big Box™ is down again – and yes, it’s because the 2TB (that’s “terabyte” to you in the Church of the SubTarded™) has crashed once again.

PFW benediction on hold until further notice – but be advised that I’m invoking Executive Fiat™ one last time.  (For details, just look below the banner.)

ThatIsAll™.

Denizens, now that we’ve passed the new-year threshold…and since, for the first time in a while, I’m finally caught up on most stuff…I intend to do the (what should be) annual “spring cleaning” of the blog.

Meaning, in this case, that sidebar links, etc, will be tested – and those that are found wanting, abandoned, etc, will be summarily removed.  (Yeah, that’ll really show ‘em, won’t it?    )

Anyway, if you look over there, you’ll find two links added – “The Deth Guild” and “TL In Exile”.  Both are exceedingly good reads and well worth your time to go visit.

Once you’ve had your daily dose of My Eternal Wisdom™, of course. 

…uh…crappy goo…ear…uhhhhhh…

(plop!)

Now in those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus, that a census be taken of all the inhabited earth. This was the first census taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. And everyone was on his way to register for the census, each to his own city.

Joseph also went up from Galilee, from the city of Nazareth, to Judea, to the city of David which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and family of David, in order to register along with Mary, who was engaged to him, and was with child.

While they were there, the days were completed for her to give birth. And she gave birth to her firstborn son; and she wrapped Him in cloths, and laid Him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.

In the same region there were some shepherds staying out in the fields and keeping watch over their flock by night. And an angel of the Lord suddenly stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them; and they were terribly frightened.

But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of great joy which will be for all the people; for today in the city of David there has been born for you a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”

And suddenly there appeared with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest, And on earth peace among men with whom He is pleased.”

When the angels had gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds began saying to one another, “Let us go straight to Bethlehem then, and see this thing that has happened which the Lord has made known to us.” So they came in a hurry and found their way to Mary and Joseph, and the baby as He lay in the manger.

When they had seen this, they made known the statement which had been told them about this Child. And all who heard it wondered at the things which were told them by the shepherds. But Mary treasured all these things, pondering them in her heart.

The shepherds went back, glorifying and praising God for all that they had heard and seen, just as had been told them.

—Luke 2:1-20 (NASB)

And may God add His blessings to the reading of His holy Word.

Merry Christmas, Denizens.  This season, more than any other – remember why.