It’s all his fault, you know. He just had to go and tell me about the Hero Generator. Ah, well.
So here’s a silly rendition of Andrew Wolfe in some kind of outlandish fantasy setting. He’s normally a snappier dresser, I assure you. Sometimes one’s purpose determines one’s presentation.
And then there’s Marc Rembrandt, my role-play character. The Generator didn’t have a very good match for his neckwear, so I had to make do.
You could do better, I suppose? Go on, show me what you’ve got.
All you have to do is pick fifteen names. Okay, you also need to have a journal/blog/thingie. Anyway, name fifteen moderately famous non-dead people and go sign up over at the Dead Pool. Do it before the ball drops in Times Square.
Because somebody ought to profit from celebrity deaths, and that somebody might as well be you.
The Dead Pool
Spotted these the other day at, of all places, a fabric store. (Don’t ask.) The general consensus among those assembled was that it seemed a pretty stupid idea to teach kids that tree lights are a sweet and tasty snack…
(I apologize for the quality of the pic. My phone’s “camera” option isn’t exactly the goddesses’ gift to photography.)
Thank (or blame) my old friend Ben for this one. It’s not my fault. Honest.
The Shakespearean Insult Generator… as run through the Shizzolator.
Warning: Not necessarily work- or kid-safe. Behave yourselves.
Ginerva’s got it goin’ on:
Martyrdom is not selflessness.
Go read the entry, and especially follow that first link within. Excellent stuff in there.
Aw, hell, I’ll just give the link here, too: Conversational Terrorism. Don’t let it happen to you… and don’t take part in it! (For the record? Yeah, I’m guilty of any number of things listed on that page. I’m working on that, though…)
