The morning bell sounded over fields of gloomy extrusions under a desaturated neutral sky. A flock of birds had crowded around the only body of water, a polluted manhole-sized grotto, perked up and flew away haphazardly.
At the third chime I took a look into the grubby pool; the bottom was murky but navigable, perhaps later I would set a paper boat adrift and record the results after twenty such trials. One day, yes. But today was special. Today was the day I was called up... by destiny. Here’s how the call went:
*ring*
“Hello?”
“Hello, this is Destiny. Is this-”
“This is the Outhouse Collapse Outreach Center. How may I direct your call?”
*brief pause*
“I think I have the wrong number...”
“Are you aware that 7% of all thunderboxes collapse within the first three months of construction?”
“I did not know that-”
“Are you a Star Trek fan? Brent Spiner, who portrayed Commander Data in the Star Trek television series was grievously wounded in a massive port-o-john collapse in 2006.”
“I’m pretty sure I have the wrong number.”
“Sir, are you denigrating our foundation?”
“No, I-”
“OCOC has renovated thousands of ageing public outhouses worldwide. Have you even used an outhouse?”
The conversation went on like that until Destiny faked going through a tunnel and hung up, leaving me alone and wishing I’d gone with my judge persona. The threat of a county judge popping an ollie on your lawn in his grandson’s monster truck always keeps them on the line.
But I assume that what Destiny was trying to tell me was that it’s been far too long since I updated what was once my greatest creation, Project Velt.
For about a month now, I’ve been in monastic seclusion. Now what could I do with all that time? It came down to two choices: either go down to the river and spend all day punching fish or rebuild Project Velt into what I always hoped it could be. Both were good, but what good is punching fish going to do for my resumé? It’s not like I’m applying for a job on the Pequod. I wanted to create something that everyone could enjoy (not excluding protosapiens), and after about two weeks of constant coding I had just that.
Then I changed the product requirements and spent another three weeks upping the ante, building the pie higher until I arrived at Project Velt 2.0 (now 2.2). (Also as a gratuitously useful Opera Widget!) Project Velt 2.0 is fully compatible with Opera 9+ and Firefox 3+.
Don’t have any idea what I’m talking about? You’re probably that punk kid that’s been tramplin’ on my lawn. Read this walkthrough, ya hooligan!
Fanfare is appreciated but unnecessary. If you wish to thank me, do so in writing on the wall of any outhouse you use. OCOC thoroughly documents its projects.
*ring*
“Hello?”
“Hello, this is Destiny. Is this-”
“This is the Outhouse Collapse Outreach Center. How may I direct your call?”
*brief pause*
“I think I have the wrong number...”
“Are you aware that 7% of all thunderboxes collapse within the first three months of construction?”
“I did not know that-”
“Are you a Star Trek fan? Brent Spiner, who portrayed Commander Data in the Star Trek television series was grievously wounded in a massive port-o-john collapse in 2006.”
“I’m pretty sure I have the wrong number.”
“Sir, are you denigrating our foundation?”
“No, I-”
“OCOC has renovated thousands of ageing public outhouses worldwide. Have you even used an outhouse?”
The conversation went on like that until Destiny faked going through a tunnel and hung up, leaving me alone and wishing I’d gone with my judge persona. The threat of a county judge popping an ollie on your lawn in his grandson’s monster truck always keeps them on the line.
But I assume that what Destiny was trying to tell me was that it’s been far too long since I updated what was once my greatest creation, Project Velt.
For about a month now, I’ve been in monastic seclusion. Now what could I do with all that time? It came down to two choices: either go down to the river and spend all day punching fish or rebuild Project Velt into what I always hoped it could be. Both were good, but what good is punching fish going to do for my resumé? It’s not like I’m applying for a job on the Pequod. I wanted to create something that everyone could enjoy (not excluding protosapiens), and after about two weeks of constant coding I had just that.
Then I changed the product requirements and spent another three weeks upping the ante, building the pie higher until I arrived at Project Velt 2.0 (now 2.2). (Also as a gratuitously useful Opera Widget!) Project Velt 2.0 is fully compatible with Opera 9+ and Firefox 3+.
Don’t have any idea what I’m talking about? You’re probably that punk kid that’s been tramplin’ on my lawn. Read this walkthrough, ya hooligan!
Fanfare is appreciated but unnecessary. If you wish to thank me, do so in writing on the wall of any outhouse you use. OCOC thoroughly documents its projects.
I am not compatible! Noooooooooooooooooo! All my life I have been a square peg trying to fit into a round hole and I'm not even one of those Sqaure Pegs that goes on to play a woman who has lots of sex in some city. I'm like the Square Peg who had to wear a lame sweater over his shoulders in Star Trek II the Wrath of Khan and then died. Why me, Lord, why me? Why? Why? WHY? Why? Why? Why?? Why? Why? Why? WHY? Why? Why? Why? WHY? Why? Why? Why? WHY? Why? How come?
I tried ceaselessly to ensure compatibility, but sometimes you've gotta burn down a house to get rid of the termites.
Esteban... Esteban... Eeeeestebaaaaaan!
If only there was a robot with fish punching on his resumé to take on the damn Jaguar Shark that ate Eeeeestebaaaaaan!
Velt is so hot right now!
I bet you have a pretty good handle on quantum physics, don't you.
OHHHHHhhhhhh!!!!!!
Thank you kindly for the tip.
Velt makes me hawt
(and strangely so does facial hair on robots... hmmm... what's up with that?!)
This goatee is the manifestation of my inner lumberjack.
And it lets me pull off the whole suspenders-with-corncob-pie look.
"suspenders-with-corncob-pie look"?
Ummm... didn't ya mean pipe?
Was that a Freudian slip or are you just in need of a sugar fix?
I'm taking a class in tying Freudian slip-knots.