Chomperical

Recently it has come to my attention that robots are a potentially dangerous threat to my well-being. As a result, I’ve been looking into acquiring some materials to build an article of robot armor for my self. Now, ideally, I would like to build an armor out of either grade 5 or 38 titanium of thickness of 3 inches with carbon fibers threaded throughout and external diamond coating. All this will then be built on top of a polyester jacket to allow for casual wearing. My robot armor will be kind of expensive so I am accepting donations from my readers in order to see its completion.

I just exited the house when I was presented by the world with a chainlink fence running in front of my face. Usually these are of good quality, but this one had lots of metal cord ends sticking out. The entire fence had sort of a wavy bendy quality to it. I blame it on poor writing. Well, anyway, I was walking alongside it, and my gaze was attached to it, causing my stride to inadvertently angle towards the fence. I continued to take steps forward, causing my eye to come in contact with one of the metal barbs, getting pierced, then sliced across and scratching the side of my face along to my ear. The whole matter probably inconvenienced me only a fraction of a second though. Arriving at a break in the fencing, I entered and saw a concrete loftcube in a large crater. I realize this was probably someone else’s home, but I think it’s my duty to enter the homes of various people and explore them. All that there was available to eat was some sodypop and clay, which is rather bland for my tastes, so I took out my trusty bottle of cock sauce and had myself one fine chow time. Reminded me of the days when I used to wear the old nosebag.

~...~

Our auto stopped for some reason, unable to continue, probably because it stopped. I deboard and am next to a construction site with a large chainlink fence going alongside it. A dirt path leads through, so I walked through; it’s okay I guess, other people were visiting here too. As I got to the entrance, a group of naked people covered in a cloud of mud comes into my field of vision. They were heading north, but not actually moving, so I decided to head north myself. It got to be dark in the evening, and I notice that in my possession is the framework for a pyramid with a lit up bluish/whitish corepiece. I started to wonder about it, and I notice a guy standing next to me so I bug him about it: “do you think you could see this from 700 meters away, perhaps vertical distance too?” “Uh, I guess so.” That seemed to satisfy my curiosity for the moment and I didn’t think any further on the matter.

Hungry! I like eating food!

I’m uneasy about posting right now, because I don’t want to set up a precedent that when readers pester me, I respond with an internote post immediately. But I also have progress about the reprint of my cookbook: there is no new progress.

I gave away all my brownies, so I was sort of feeling depressed. I left the house, and continued in the direction I was heading and soon I reached a three way intersection. There were a bunch of trees on one side of the street, maybe it was a forest preserve or a park. A bunch of people were standing there, so I had to discuss with one of them about how to observe decision processes. And by discuss, I mean we each took turns, one person explains their arguments and the other side takes out headphones and rocks out to some tuneskis, then goms;;u, the side that was able to say the most words without repetition holds correctness. I won of course. The other guy didn’t even utter a word. After this, we headed down east. The sidewalk was all smashed and torn up in disrepair. Some slabs were raised, exposing dirt underneath corners. An occasional tree root was visible. It got to be what must have been a few hours, so we all decided to head back in an auto one of the people happened to bring with.

~“Let’s open our next letter here... oh I get so excited reading these! Hmm... ‘Dear Barley Chef: I was exercising my creativity the other day, and I came up with a brilliant idea! I love to eat soups, but I needed a delicious new noodle to make it extra special. And then it hit me: to make a barley noodle...’”. The television grew silent for a moment, and I watched a grave look come over Barley Chef’s face. “I’m terribly sorry everyone, but the Barley Chef Hour is cancelled forthwith.”~

I felt on top of the world after that swig of milk, but I really had to use the washroom. Some guy was sitting in the corner, facing the wall, and crying while eating something. Next to him I saw a couple brownies sitting on the floor. This scene got me kind of hungry, so I pulled out my plate of brownies and started working on those. I felt it was sort of a special moment the two of us had. Just enjoying some excellent chomps. Neither of us said a word to the other, but we didn’t need to. I think we both understood each other without speaking by means of the brownies.

Fire Fly.

Several of my readers have issued complaints about my recipe collection severely underestimating the intelligence of the reader. In response, I have begun work on a second first edition printing which will both include corrections for and introduce a few typographical errors, eliminate large portions of cooking instructions, and contain an additional section of photographs of food.

I found myself in darkness. It didn’t occur to me at the time, but it must have been the middle of the night. I raised the upper half of my body and look around, seeing only empty space, so I swung my legs around the edges of my resting place, searching for some sort of ledging to lower myself to ground level. It was a success and I began my descent, but about halfway down, a window caught my attention and I halted progress to take in my surroundings. The window was part of an undeterminable-colored house. So naturally, I climbed right in. I smelled some chomps, so I headed through a door to a room with a stairwell going down on one side and the other with a typical bedroom setup: dresser with mirror, desk, shelving unit with books and movies, bed with single shoe placed in center. I was drawn to the shelves, where I picked up a huge piece of strudel that must have been placed to cool and forgotten. I took a bite. Lovely berries flavor. So good. I have it preferred to forest apples. Some brownies on a plate were on the desk and I snagged those too for eating later. Next, I was getting thirsty, so I headed down the stairs and grabbed a half-gallon container of 2% milk sitting out on a table. I broke the seal with a butter knife, drank some of it, but couldn’t finish, so I fumbled around in my pockets for some silica gel but couldn’t find any. Seeing a cabinet door to my left, I open it up and find a tub of rice. I drop a handful of grains into the milk carton and leave it where I found it.

~I missed the Barley Chef today. Even though he’s my favorite, I’ve only seen a few episodes of his show. I have a fear that if I learn the secrets of barley this way, I may ultimately not have as great an overall appreciation for it as I might if I were to try on my own. But if I try to teach myself barley cooking, I won’t ever come close to the amount of barley-related knowledge as modern barley cooks.~

As I walked forward, the thought of the sandwich I ate occupied my mind. I don’t know how much time passed, but it was now night and I could make out something that left an impression to me as being an concrete loft cube at a dig site. I didn’t stop at it, and continued on, reaching a home. I really had to take a piss, so I headed inside, but there was a huge line for the washroom. After getting in, it was completely empty. Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I had to use the water to fix up my hair a bit, but I was soon lost in thought. What am I doing here, and why did I get here? What does it look like when someone has a fire burning in their eyes? My eyes look black in the middle. Maybe robots have lights in their eyes. If my face were slightly more robotic, I might be a robot. Everyone kind of is a robot. After all, they pray to Robotsk—someone entered the door. This person had a sad look in the eyes, but I knew how to offer a cheering up. I reached into my cargo pocket and grabbed a handful of brownie. “Hey there, what’s wrong? Don’t worry.. sshhh.. sshhhh... just look at me, everything’s gonna be all right. Here, I brought you some of mother’s brownies.”

Internotable Potables

I was getting pretty excited. Mouth salivating, about to take a bite of a delicious bacon-flavored marshmallow. This must be the first time such a wonderful product has been made widely available. Images raced through my mind, wondering about a new world. I would burst into random houses and rifle through kitchen cabinets, searching, and there would be one item that is a sure find every time: the bacon marshmallows. As I placed the marshmallow into my mouth, I almost didn’t realize the truth of the situation because of my preconceived flavor ideas. This was in fact just a normal strawberry marshmallow.

Seeing there was no longer a wall in front of me, I got out of my cross-legged sitting position, one of my favorites from childhood. Today’s children have much more uncomfortable sitting styles. For example, I believe the current procedure for proper sitting instilled upon youth is to have the right leg stretched out fully, middle finger of right hand wrapped around the right index toe, left leg bent at the knee with left foot resting on ground beneath right leg, left elbow resting on left knee, and back of left hand placed over the mouth and schnoz. All this got me thinking about when I used to watch the Barley Chef on television...

~”Now, our next recipe comes from a Lars Cooldude of Sandwich. Let’s see, first we boil a pot full of barley. We’re off to a good start here! I don’t think anything can go wrong, we have a recipe for success! Alright, drain the water, and stir in some mustard mustard to taste. I’m feeling a little adventurous here, so I’m going to add chopped onions and garlic cloves to mine. Some of you out there might not be able to handle this, I can understand. We’re about done here, so I’m going to pour this into plastic baggies for snacking on the go. Wonderful idea, Lars! We also had a recipe from a ‘Zeefer’, but sadly we do not accept submissions from large organizations, no matter how great the recipe is.” I watch the screen fade through watery eyes and some commercial appears for an upcoming movie everyone has been talking about lately.~

The emergency food station was just ahead. Excellent timing on the food station’s part since I was starved. I headed down the stairs and examined my surroundings. Operating in this environment is first nature to me. I was about to get to work, when I saw that someone must have been here already, since there was a completed sandwich with nondescript soy drink waiting for me. It was really something else: meatballs with a certain special sauce drizzled all over them. So good. Glancing around some more, I found a package that claimed to contain ingredients for a drink that fixes love problems. Even though I didn’t want to risk bringing an end to my relationship with sandwiches, I couldn’t help but imagine the end product. Terrible. I’m ashamed to admit that I thought of it. I’m sorry. On the way out, I saw a tableau that reminded me of someplace I might have been before, but I couldn’t quite place it. I closed my eyes and shook my head, then moved on.

Great Deceiver Food Boxen

I recently have acquired some cock sauce and I feel that it is the sort of thing I would like to take with me everywhere, just in case a situation comes up. I encourage everyone else to do the same.

I exited the building looking at my altimeter I always carry with me wherever I go. 417 feet beneath the ground level. It looked like I was in the heart of a city. Everything had a pale green hue to it, reminding me of the color of someone’s skin if poisonous artichokes were to be passively eaten by them. Feeling a sense of accomplishment for having come so far, I looked upwards dramatically, but the cave’s ceiling was there blocking a sweet view of clouds or a starry sky. Anyway, I had wanderlust and began to head over to the local mall.

~A long time ago, the people lived happily and freely, but, without their knowing, an evil slowly began to spread, clouding their minds and souls with darkness. Naturally, they proceeded to make a pact with the devil. Raising the devil’s battlement edition loftcube, they hoped to bring a new man into the world. One who would be remembered by history as the first to invent long steel cutlery, harbingering a new age, and going forth to sample fine foods everywhere.~

I put back the movie in the foreign film section. der gottlose Feinschmecker. These things weird me out sometimes, but I have a fondness for them. I just browsed through some more aisles for stuff before heading out. I was getting hungry again at this point, so I start looking for some chomps. Anything will do, but I was hoping for some specially prepared still sealed meals. Maybe it’s an eating disorder or mental condition, but I want to be sure that I’m the first one to have eaten from a specific food item. A heaping plate of risotto was sitting out, so I engaged in gormandization, and once satisfied, I headed once again on my way.

Makin Bacon

It may be a difficult procedure, but if you can cook your bacon rare, you will have the opportunity to collect the benefits. And don’t let people discourage you by telling you it’s just soggy old bacon.

Light steel walls lined the corridor and the floor was made of dirty metal grating, with a river of strawberry drug-laced milk running beneath it. Strawberry milk can be dangerous, because if you, specifically, start drinking it and get a thing going on, you can forget how you like banana milk so much more. I saw another stairwell going down, so I proceeded. Upon reaching the top of my ascent, I was in a small bedroom, with the ceiling at an angle, I assume because of the roof of the building. The room had a light brown feeling to it, sort of like the house was made out of wood, except that it wasn’t. There was however a desk made out of wood, and on it was placed a bowl of soup. I couldn’t resist, so I tried it out. A little taste test. I don’t want the next person who eats from this to die from poisoning. As I swallowed, memories rushed into my mind.

~I am carrying a bowl of soup, with mittens on, to protect me from the heat. I walk a bit too quickly, and the hot liquid spills onto the mittens, going through to my skin. Unable to just stop now, I continue on to the cellar, where I can finally place the bowl down safely. Relieved that the soup is safe, I take the mittens off, to find out that my hands have become melded. Now, I was looking upon one fine pair of club hands.~

I leave the soup where it was, confident that it is indeed safe, and headed back down the stairs. Arriving at the landing, I read a panel on the left wall: “B22”. I estimated that I must have been 367 feet underground at this point. Despite the hallways being mostly dark, I was able to see things clearly, and commit all the images to memory. The walls looked to be maybe some sort of concrete, with cracks in it from vines growing through. I imagined that a shopping mall could have been located here at one point, so I took a look into one of the side rooms, and saw a display of products. Back into the hallway, I headed down to continue, hoping to perhaps find some old stereo equipment along the way.

Sandwich Time ist over.

I invented a food teleporter for sending food long distances, but I had mixed feelings about it. After it scans the food item and replicates it at the destination, it destroys the original. Was the food actually teleported? I don’t want such a device to exist in this world.

After a sandwich is gone, I lose track of time. My autowandering took over, and I arrived at an underground room with shiny steel walls, and rusty bolts along seams. On all the sides of the bolts, blue goo was present. I went through the tunnels at the end of the room and took a left turn, arriving at the information room. A glass panel was on the wall, and through it, packages passed by on a conveyer belt. I turned towards my mailboxen, but first noticed the newspaper stand nearby. I picked up my favorite, and took a look through to see if I could find anything. There were some ads for vacations in the fjords, and also articles on food etiquette. Something about the food article seemed familiar to me, so I checked it out.

~... but be careful. Once you reach the center, you cannot continue eating. To do so would be a serious mealtime faux pas. If you need help, just try to imagine you are eating artichoke hearts. So in the future, please plan out your strategy for eating cinnamon rolls ahead of time so you don’t get backed into a corner at the dinner table.~

I noticed that I was the one that wrote the article. I put my pen down, and snipped a coupon for some mushrooms. I always love a good mushroom deal.

music to accompany the internote: Cinema Bizarre - Love Songs (They Kill Me).

Artwork corner.

First Host Strip!
[A Nice Hotel]

Comes Full Sandwich (Part 1).

I used to make my hot chocolate with heavy cream, but later on I began using skim milk. Now recently, I’m using water, and I don’t even heat it up.

It’s freezing today. I walked over to see if the window was left open. If it had been open, that would be just nuts since it would mean it’s been like that for several months now. Anyway, it turns out that it’s open a crack and a draft is coming in. Now, I’ve been suspicious about this draft for a while now, but I never attempted to confirm it was in fact there. I tried to close the window more, but it looks like it’s as far shut as it can get. This is ridiculous. I considered for a moment caulking it shut, but I have memories of it being summer and still too hot even with a system of multiple fans circulating air through. I want to avoid any problems down the line, so I reconsider.

I put on my shoes that have metal bolts in the soles, to prevent slipping on ice and scratch nice floors, then head out. It actually doesn’t happen often, but when the ground is all icy, I find myself having trouble keeping my footing while walking around. What’s worse about this is that on these days, the grass might also be muddy, making both foot-travel options not look so great. As I walked outside, I noticed all the icicles hanging on the trees. They look to me more like one large connected system of ice, rather than individual icicles you could break off and have the rest left alone. As I looked at it, my mind went back to previous winters. Standing at the stop for pubtransing, we found a huge icicle hanging off of a house. This one was a few feet in length and broke off easily for our time-killing icicle duels. The snow was piled pretty high next to the street, but it was still fresh. When snow is sitting too long next to the street, it tends to collect a lot of dirt and become a really nasty sort of slush. Just thinking about it made me remember a time I was walking eastward to catch a bus earlier for better seat selection. I don’t particularly have great perception when it comes to keeping track of what vehicles are coming, I was only concerned really about a bus, but I should have made note of this one. A snow plow was heading towards my group. It came closer and since it’s moving at a decent speed, it picks up all the slush sitting by the curb. A huge black wall of the dirty slush formed and came at us, like a wave of death. I really couldn’t think to do anything about it; I didn’t know how I could possibly get out of the way. I was left covered in the cold slush, and it made for a very unpleasant hour on the bus going back home. I took my gaze back from the icicles on the tree and continue walking on. I had some worries in the back of my mind still. Scenarios played out where the whole thing of sharp ice would come crashing down on top of me. I noticed myself walking in an arc slightly more away from the tree, even though I know I was far enough away from it so there would never be a problem.

I headed north now, and I started wondering what time it was now. I had forgotten to check what time I woke up at, but previous experience waking up told me that it more likely was around 04:00 to 05:00. I felt comfortable with how much time was left in the day, and it helped me to keep going. I passed by one of my favorite sandwich places, Agarish Chomps, and decided to stop in. It’s sort of a tradition for me to go there anyway, and I’m not one to break with traditions. I took a look around. They had the usual selection of chips and snack mixes sitting on shelves. I didn’t particularly feel much for those today, even if they had my flavor. I turned my attention to the large menu of different sandwiches available for my selection. I know that lately, it’s popular to always mix artichokes with spinach, so I decided to try that out on a roast beef sandwich. Some people say that the roast beef sandwich signifies something fancy, or that it carries with a meaning of this meal being more important than meals eaten on most days. For me, personally, that holds some truth. Eating a roast beef sandwich is a real experience that most other foods don’t match up to. Of course, there are fancier foods, but roast beef has its own unique place. When my sandwich was finally ready, I took it with me so I could eat it while traveling. For some reason, it never really occurs to me to eat food I buy at the location of purchase, even at places that have a really nice comfortable set up.

I unwrapped my sandwich from the paper, and began eating it while walking. So good. It reminds me of the old pizza and can of soda deal for two bucks. But my true passion is sandwiches, not pizza, even if pizzas are really nice. One of my dreams is to one day own a sandwich shop, a super fun food house. I started dreaming about this as I took bites out of my sandwich. In my mind, the main problem with my plan, though, is designing a nice welcoming setting. Most people only like places that they’re familiar with from early in their lives, so I’m already at a disadvantage here. Even if my design is somehow much better than those of other shops, nearly everyone will prefer one they’ve been familiar with for a longer time.

As I continued walking on, after my sandwich had been finished for a while already, I began to wonder, just where exactly I was heading. I didn’t know at the time, but I would never know the reason I went on this walk.

music to accompany the internote: OMD – Tesla Girls.

Invöerstigation Forever

I usually feel like exploring whenever I eat Mr. Baron's microwave oven pizzas, so I took a trip over to the local Pizzeria for some extra nightlunch. Imagine the shock on my face when I discovered that the pizza you buy there isn't frozen and in need of microwaving, but it is in fact, ready to eat at time of purchase! Well, at least this is what I found in my camcorder's recording I made of the event. I personally still find it too wild and crazy and I refuse to believe it is true. It's not often that I have actual physical copies of video recordings of my dreams, but I'm hoping for a more realistic dream next time.

I hadn't seen Beltman for some time, and so I had taken up applying myself towards various arts and crafts. During this time I went back some thousand years maybe. Seeing this as an opportunity to bring something wonderful to the world, I decided to invent the world's very first double boiler. And while I was at it, I tried my hand at baking pies. Since Lemon Meringue is a pie with much hidden potential, I tried baking that same pie over and over again. Then one night, on a full moon, I experienced a pie fusion accident. This new pie retained some of the qualities of the Lemon Meringue, but it was also very different. I called this new intense pie the Key Lime Pie...

...with Galaxy Beltman's help, I was once again at the Fjord. Earthquakes and storms were destroying the lands, and the wisemen of SouffleFjord had decided that to find out the nature of these disasters, the One True Speaker must be sought out in the Belt System. This is when I was sent off on my journey to Deception island to find the Interphased Time Warp Facilitator. But first, I thought I would take a relaxing stop at the SGA...

Meanwhile, 10 floors underneath the central administration building of SouffleFjord, the evil Namtleb awoke from endless nightmares and torments, mad with lust for revenge. "I want my amulet back!" Unfortunately, the 10 floor maze was too ridiculously difficult for Namtleb to navigate, and he ultimately decided to end his suffering by teleporting himself into solid rock.

... with Brosepf gone, I activated the Time Warp Facilitator and added the Thorium fuel cells. Having my zippermask and belt-pineapple, I would be safe on this journey. "Goodbye forever, SouffleFjord. If you want to keep in contact, use the following e-mail address."

(P.S. There will be no e-mail address.)