Sometimes Horror

Here's some pink horrors of Tzeentch I've been working on. The nostalgia bug has been strong this year, so some scouring of ebay has been fruitful. These guys are 1st and 2nd generation sculpts, blue arms and beak face respectively. Kevin Adams sculpted the 1st gen horrors from the 80's. Off the top of my head, I think Trish Morrison did the 2nd gen ones from early 90's?

Thursnight Bleaklight

I have nothing to share today, so I'll have to make something up:

Actually, here it is. Another childhood story to pass the time: my forays into the wild.

As you know, I grew up in a fair backwater by the name of Salem Center. I always thought it was a peculiar name, though a vast improvement over the neighboring places-- names like Rutland, Wilkesville, and.... Dexter. (shudder) People always shuddered when they heard the name Dexter, though I no longer remember why. It was a backwater's backwater, if that means anything.

A name like Salem Center calls to mind witches, and 'Center' as a good place for them to congregate. There's some logic there, I think.

As a hobby I would devote a portion of my youth to seeking out these witches, or at least some evidence of their existence. I would walk around in the nearby forests and fields, keeping on the lookout for 'witchy-type-happenings.'

The evidence is as follows:

• Strange flat rock in cowfield. Possibly used in summoning rituals.
• Cursed trees with deadly poisonous spikes (later debunked as the Honey Locust tree)
• Deer skulls, snake skins, dead birds, misc. animal debris (all due to witchcraft)
• Unmarked cemetery (weird, creepy)

And the most difficult one: I used to swear that I could see shadow people standing around, but only glimpses of them in the corner of my eye. This was too difficult to document. But one day we'll go back there and I'll show you.



be you.

Hobbies, Ice-Skating, and Stuff

At least once a week our kitchen table is transformed into a miniature warzone where the denizens of the 41st century settle their differences by attacking each other with guns and chainsaws. Warhammer 40k is one of my favorite games of all time. If you are friend or family, you've more than likely found me sitting on your couch painting and assembling warhammer models sometime in recent history. The pic here is from a game a few weeks ago: Ken's loyalist space marines squaring off against my traitor berserkers (the traitors are hiding behind cover in the mid-ground.) Also note the chaos dreadnought staggering around in the background looking for something to blow up.

I went ice-skating for the first time in my life today (technically yesterday. I'm up late). Some close family friends invited us to their son's birthday party at the Chiller, and we were happy to oblige. It was a lot like roller-blading, though with the added element of dodging children and other obstacles while endlessly circling the rink. To my credit I did not fall down, though we all wore furrows into the ice that kept tripping me up.

The experience made me nostalgic; I remembered my mom taking us to the skating rink at the Rutland Civic Center when we were kids. Mind you, this was back before the existence of roller-blades. I'm talking about these unwieldly things: clicky. You should remember these. They're a part of your past. Anyway, I remember some fantastic crashes at that civic center. Perhaps we should stop attaching extra bits to the bottoms of our shoes?

When I was in college, I was convinced by friends to take up rollerblading... the new, cooler version of roller-skating. Three of us bought some high quality rollerblades. These things were amazing, and we got what we paid for: sleek, fast death.

High quality rollerblades (clicky for picture) are synonymous with assisted suicide in the hands of noobs. I look back to the year 2003 and try to imagine how I was not outright killed in a rollerblading accident. At speed, it took only a tiny pebble to wipe me out. Rollerblade wrecks are the worst thing outside of car crashes. In 2004 I decided to hang up the skates. My dad and I got bikes instead. Our bike rides were a joy compared to the hell of rollerblading.

Apparently the correct term for rollerblading is inline skating. Rollerblade is a brand. Sort of like Q-tips for cotton swabs, or refering to adhesive bandages as Band-Aids. What did I do before there was wikipedia?