Dymo Palace

History, Philosophy, and the Great Leader Hitler

2012-02-23T20:27:00.000-08:00

Now before anyone beats me up and labels me for the title, I want you to read the rest of this post, or I'll start labeling you.

First, I believe that teaching justice in school history is wrong. We are taught that the Righteous Americans beat the evil Japanese and Germans, or that The British Empire was the pinnacle of civilisation. Now I don't like that. History should just tell the story, and keep any opinions out of it.

Next, philosophy should be taught in school. Although history shouldn't teach these things, philosophy should. See, history should teach people to throw away judgmentalism, and take a completely subjective look at what happened. Philosophy, on the other hand, is all about judgement, and although teachers shouldn't explicitly tell students what is write or wrong, they should teach them to make their own decisions.

Finally, Hitler is not Evil. Misguided? Probably. Didn't-make-good-choices? Well, you judge that for yourself. Hitler might have been a terrible person, but he was a great leader like nobody else was. He was able to band great number of people together, to unite for a common purpose, as wrong as that purpose may be. I think lots of people can learn from Hitler, although what we learn from him is important.

So that's me for today. I felt judgmental today, so I had a go at writing this.

p3d.in is GREAT

2012-02-06T12:29:00.000-08:00

I think so anyway. I haven't really had a go at it, but seeing 3D on the web seems wonderful! See this:

I happened to be on the move, so I didn't have a decent model to work with, or a graphics card that runs webGL, so I have no idea what it looks like. Better have a look at it at home.

EDIT: I got the Matador on! Only the normals are weird.

Lil' Pics

2012-02-03T14:22:00.000-08:00

Let me tell you that I believe I'm a pacifist. Or queasy. Which ever you like. I do not like weapons, at least in real life. I especially do not like guns or other projectiles, and would prefer if the world returned to swords and shields. However, I do not like swords and knives, because there's too much blood involved. I did say I was queasy.

What I find nice, however, is visual weapon design. It looks like any 3D artist worth their salt is doing it, and it has a sort of romance to it. (Remember, romance has many definitions, and I'm not using the 'Love' definition.)

You may remember me putting this a long time ago. As you can see, I've finally finished Ben, and I've also (with some hurry and lack of care) finished the rocket launcher. I love designing rocket launchers because you can go crazy, and nobody minds.

Who is this mysterious ranger of the outback?

He's not mysterious, he's not a ranger, and he doesn't live in the outback. So what use does he have of a elaborately designed rocket launcher?

Of course, the one thing this rocket launcher does not do is launch rockets. Maybe a project for next time.

Ben is BIA

2012-01-28T09:13:00.000-08:00

By the way, BIA stands for Back In Action. I don't know if it's an official acronym, but I don't care either.
So what I've done, is completely remade Ben after his cranial injury, and patched him up again. I also gave him some clothes...

A sort of generic and simple pose I had at the start.

Then I tried some extreme poses.

I went for a different mood this time, only I don't think it worked.

Ssh! He's thinking.

So for those people who were wondering about my brain, it exists.

An episode. Here ye go.

2012-01-21T09:56:00.001-08:00

I found it! It was on my desktop all along!

Emily gasped, as she beheld the should-be-dead person approach her. Luke found this strangely satisfying, both because it feels good to know something Einstein doesn't, but also because her hair bobbed up and down in such an amusing way.
Trevor frowned lightly. "Well? Is anyone going to greet me?"
Luke raised his right hand. "Hi." he said with little spirit.
"How did you get here?" Emily asked.
A hole opened up in the ceiling behind him, and a red motorbike came down.
Emily continued. "But you're dead."
Trevor grinned. "Death is no obstacle for me."
She raised her eyebrows. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." he said, nodding gently. They stood in silence, while Luke stared at the floor.
Finally, Luke said, "Well, seeing that Trevor doesn't seem inclined to explain, I think I should."
"Right!" Trevor said. "Seeing as I'm the only one with the bike, I say we walk."
So the three walked together with the bike slowly following on its own. On the way, Luke explained how there was a set date at which Trevor was to die. However, he was free to do anything until that date, so with the time machine, he could travel so that he would, in total, live to a good age of whatever he deemed appropriate.
"Well," Luke said after a while. "Miss Emily Byron..."
"Stop it..." she growled, and Luke nearly saluted and accompanied it with "Yes, ma'am"
"Um, where are we?" Luke asked.
Emily rolled her eyes. "We all want the time machine."
"I figured that." Luke said. Trevor raised his eye brows.
"There are... certain objectives we would both like to achieve."
He frowned. "You're not going to tell me that are you?"
"Nope." Emily said.
It felt like they have walked on for a very long time, and it was excruciating for Luke because it felt like this underground floor had no end, and he didn't exactly know where the goal was.
Trevor decided to speak. "You wanted the time machine?"
"Were you listening?" she asked jokingly.
Trevor grinned in that triumphant/goofy way people usually do when people realise something. "There's a time machine here."
The three turned around at the time machine/motorbike that rolled to a stop.
"Wait..." she whispered. She went to the seat and gazed quickly at the controls, hoping to understand the myriad of switches and lights that fitted in what small space there was. But she turned away in dismay to Trevor.
"Trevor, I don't understand this. In fact, there are only three people that do. But..." Her eyes sparkled, and Luke stepped back.
"What is it?" he asked.
Emily breathed in proudly. "Well, Trevor would use the time machine to get to the past, and to HQ, while we stay here. They would manufacture a larger scale machine, we would eventually get the time machine they needed while we stay here until Trevor comes back, and we get back in a huff!"
Luke shrugged. "I don't know much about timing, but it sounds like a good idea to me."
"Right!" Trevor said, and grasped the helmet that hung on the handlebar. Then he paused.
"Well? How will I know where HQ is?" he asked.
"All roads lead to Rome." she answered.
"Where in..."
Emily answered exasperated, "We have a time machine for goodness sake! We can sort this out in the future. Well, our future."
Trevor frowned, but proceeded to get on the motorbike anyway. With the loud purring of the Harley, Trevor drove 3 meters before he disappeared unceremoniously.
The two stood around, quite unsure of what to expect. Luke whistled German national anthem. Or at least what he thought was the German national anthem. Emily, who knew better, glared at him to stop.
When Luke got bored of awkwardly staring at his foot, he asked, "What do we do now?"
Emily took a look at her watch. "It's already been three minutes. Trevor should be back by now."
"Nah. Don't worry about it. He's always tardy."
Just then, a small round object rolled at Luke's feet. While his head said "Grenade!" his inner boy said "Stomp on it! Stomp on it or throw it back at 'em!". Fortunately, Emily was a bit more clever, and she kicked it as quick and far away as possible. She threw herself and Luke down on the ground, and covered her own ears in expectation of an explosion.
Quite unfortunately for her, it didn't happen. All that she could here was that grating laughter of the mysterious voice.
"Really," he said, chuckling along the way. "You should have a look at yourself and see how ridiculous you look."
Three large men literary armed to the teeth (artificial fangs) approached the two with ropes. Lots and lots of ropes.
Luke smiled weakly. "Don't worry. I know how ridiculous I look."

I just want to tell people something.

2012-01-04T07:59:00.000-08:00

I'm not dead! Yes. Quite true. That's very hard to believe. Anyway, I lost my sticky that I had all my future Dymo/Luke Newton episodes in, so I'll have to go a-hunting for them. Oh, well.
Anyway, happy new years!

Hey! Happy New Year!

2011-12-31T09:13:00.001-08:00

I wonder, what is the date over somewhere else It's January here and I wanted to see what was it else where.

What!>? Who are you bronies?

2011-12-29T10:05:00.000-08:00

Very recently, (a coupl'a weeks ago, maybe a month) my very good 'friends' have showed an alarming change. They were swept away by what was commonly known as, 'My Little Ponies'. Ugh. If there was any more a tasteless thing to get into, it would be this. I have no idea where this came from, but apparently, the effect is global, and affects male and female alike. I have compared symptoms between my companions, and they seem to show a sort of confounded misunderstanding that this 'garbage' is actually good.
So what I set out to do was to prove to them that this show was the garbage it is, not disdaining the guys and gals who made this show. One man's trash is another man's treasure, and this is my trash. Anyway, so I told them it was garbage. They told me to check out an episode. So I did.
I went home, and I saw one half of an episode. Needless to say, I didn't like it.
Seriously, the pacing was slow and it took a long time to get on it, it was very simple, and I could absolutely see nothing good in it. Except maybe as mild entertainment for my children. (Dagnabbit, I don't have any children.)

So, what is to be said? Bronies! Snap out of it! Just because everybody else likes it (or seem to) doesn't mean you have to! See the show for what it really is, which is... Um... I have little idea what it is, but it's not normal.
Anyway, as Pythagoras or Einstein said, 'Nothing unreal exists'.

Music in my EARS

2011-12-03T11:56:00.000-08:00

Recently (a couple of months ago) I installed Ubuntu alongside my sluggish Vista. Recently (a couple of months ago) the Venerable Jan Morgenstern released the score for Sintel's "I Move On" to the public. Recently (a couple of months ago) I found these weird sticky bits, and I found out that they were not for stirring earwax mixtures as I have been told by a very reliable source. It is a coincidence that these events happened in a very close time frame (maybe a few weeks separating each event) and this caused me to take action.

I banged my fists on the old clav.

And this is the product: http://www.mediafire.com/?5ywzky9rjmsi3y8

It's not as good as the original, it's all crackly, there's too much noise, and the damper didn't work. And worst of all, who's playing the piano? He's darn handsome, but he can't play it at all.

Anyway, hope you enjoy it. Even if you didn't, please keep me at peace.

P.S. If media fire doesn't work, somehow or other, tell me, and I'll find something else.

Luke Newton has a name change

2011-11-26T18:15:00.000-08:00

Well, as I said much earlier, Dymo gets a name change because Dymo doesn't cut it. So he gets a new name.
Also, I had feedback that there were not enough female characters (none) and even some male readers said a little bit of romance actually helps (I always found meaningless romance in stories that don't advance the plot to be quite distasteful) so I decided to take their advice. Oh, and the violence has been amped up (I'll still keep with the no blood, no dismemberment, and absolutely no obscenity rule. I hope.) because everyone loves a little bit of action.

Anyway:

Luke Newton felt the cold hard chair pressing against his back. Although he thought of himself as quite dim-witted, he was pretty sure that chairs weren't supposed to do that. On their own anyway. Then a flood of memories gushed into his head, like a giant dam that suddenly collapsed, and now that the water is free to wreck havoc, it started damaging the surrounding hillside. Or Luke could also say that it hurt.
Snippets of thoughts wafted in and out of his focus. Time machine, Scribbins, mahogany furniture, big burly men with semi-automatic rifles and rainbow coloured Afros, an interrogation, Gyro, sweet Miss Muffet, "Goodbye", fireworks. He had hardly any idea how they could all be strung into one coherent line of thought, but he did remember something, which was a great start.
"I see Mr Newton has come back." said a lucrative sounding voice of a man. He could have done voice overs for movie trailers, only he probably decided to do something quite different instead. Like shooting people.
"Wh-Who'reya'ndwh'd'yawant?" Luke groaned. Luke opened his eyes to look around. He was in a small gray room. He was tied down on a chair in front of a desk, which explained the willful chair. On it was a couple of blank pieces of paper, couple of not-very blank pieces of paper with messy hand writing on, a black and red HB pencil, and a mug that said 'Best ~~Mum~~ Field Ops in the World'. He could see that the voice was coming through a speaker that hung on a corner of the room.
The same smooth voice intoned, "I am quite sure you know what we want." There was an expectant, awkward silence afterwards of which Luke did not bother to fill. The voice coughed. He waited some more.
After about twenty seconds, the man on the speaker decided he can take it no longer. "The time machine, Mr Newton. We want it, and we want it now."
Luke brightened up a little. "Oh that!" He smiled weakly for a few seconds, creating another period of awkward silence.
Before the silence could take over again, the man behind the speaker decided he'd fill it himself.
"Yes. Where is it, and if you do this swiftly, we would not involve pain in this."
Luke started chewing his lips. "Well... I don't have it."
This time, it was the man who manufactured the silence, and only white noise from the speakers could be heard.
Luke went on. "Well see here, after the four of us came back from that wonderfully frivolous field trip, I accidently tripped on a mug, pushed Gyro over, who knocked down a vase, and.."
"You cannot be joking." The man intoned very slowly.
"Na, ah." Luke said happily.
Again, silence dominated the room, and stayed so for half a minute. Luke started humming the Harry Potter theme.
At last, the man said, "We will involve pain in this."

"Ahh! Help! I don't deserve this!"
Luke groaned, "Ahh! Help! I don't deserve this!"
The lady in the television continued screaming this at a poor man who was getting a variety of miscellaneous household items thrown at him.
"This is terrible!" Luke continued, as Grey's Anatomy continued playing on the TV which was recently set up in the room. Luke tried to turn away, but tipped the chair instead, and was left in the most uncomfortable position of being tied to a chair on its side.
"Ssh!" the speaker toned. "This is a good part. Lorrita admits that she..."
The show stopped playing, and instead showed Luke's house surrounded by many helicopters armed with menacing looking rocket launchers. The view was panning around the house, so it as probably taken from a helicopter as well. Luke slid on the floor so he was facing the television lying down.
"Ooh! Home, sweet home." Luke toned nonchalantly.
The faceless man snickered. "You wouldn't think so soon. See that? In the house?"
Luke squinted, then started back. "Oi! Gyro! Get out of the computer. When you mess up the government, it's me that gets arrested!"
The man continued to laugh. "Don't worry. Him and your house would be splintered very shortly..."
"I never consented to that!" Luke yelled.
"Unless..." Here, he paused for dramatic effect. It ended up being a silence that started conquering the atmosphere. He coughed.
"Unless you can hand over the machine."
Luke frowned. "You think they accept damage from firearms for insurance?"
The man behind the speaker breathed through his nose. "Very well. Fire away boys."
The multitude of helicopters fired their armed weapons at the little house, and the whole area exploded into a shower of lights. When the smoke cleared away, only some fake Indian carpet 'Made in China' and a grand piano was left.
The speaker blared out a maniacal laughter. "There you go!" the voice bawled. "And mind you, we'll find other things to destroy, like your wife."
Luke growled. "I think you've done enough. It took me three years to collect the whole Mario Bros. series. Anyway, I don't have a wife. Everyone hates me."
"No worries," said the man lightly. "We'll arrange a marriage just for the occasion."
Just then, a few of the hovering helicopters on screen collapsed, and started plummeting to the ground.
"What the... Air base! What the frickin' heck is happening out there."
Luke watched on and saw a gray blur hurtling towards the camera.
After the voice was done grumbling at some people, he said to Luke, "Well, it looks like Gyro was a bit hardier than we initial perceived."
"Ha. I don't need you to tell me. He's been on my back for as long as I can remember."
"Yes. We will punish you for the damage."
The speaker turned off, and the television played Coronation Street.

"Oh Jamie, I had to tell father about it."
"What!? No you couldn't've! I told you to keep it away from him at all cost!"
"Yes, but he was clever, and he tricked me... You do still love me?"
"Of course not. How could you? You not only betrayed me, but you've betrayed yourself."
Bang.
"Oh no! I've shot her! I shot my only love Miranda! Oh, oh. How painful this is!"
Bang.
The second bang was much louder, and was not accompanied with tasteless music. Jamie probably shot himself, which would explain the lack of dialogue.
Luke tried to move around, tied in his chair which was tipped awkwardly. At least the crime scene would be interesting.
As he turned towards the telly, he saw a leather boot, firmly standing on the ground.
Luke blinked.
The television too, was firmly on the ground in three detachable but barely attachable pieces, and there was a great big hole in the wall where it used to be.
Luke blinked again.
Yes, the hole was still there, and Luke wondered if that was actually a good thing. He decided that whatever terrible monstrosity that ble that hole must have left, so he tried to escape. Unfortunately, he was still tied to the chair.
"Aren't you going to ask for help?" a voice called out from no where. Luke tried to turn his head to where he though the voice came from, but, quite unfortunately, couldn't.
He felt the restraint around his shoulder, wrists, and legs loosen all at once, got up to stretch for a bit, yawned, and then turned around to see who had just released him.
A lady dressed in what could only be desribed as a "wha'd'ya'call that?" was flicking a knife in her carefully tended hands. Of course, if Luke did try to describe it, he would have called it something of a smart robe that doesn't get in your way. Her straight hair was done up neatly in a pony tail that reached down her back. Her face did not look like it had any make up on, but did not compromise its attractiveness. However, you always felt you were inferior to her, because she didn't look like she ever smiled, and had a semi-permanent disapporving look on her face.
She walked up to Luke. "Well, aren't you going to do something?" She was almost as tall as him, and Luke never liked woman like that because they never liked him. People always looked down at him, and if females started doing that, then he'd have no one to look down at except Gyro, who managed to stare back up with the sort of impertinence you could never manage with eyes.
After some silence, of which seemed to dominate his whole experience, Luke decided he was going to do something. He grabbed her knife and threw it at the speaker. The knife bounced back on to the floor. The speaker crackled a little bit, and it blared out, "Threat detected. Dispatch exterminators immediately." An alarm ent off near by.
The lady looked disapprovingly. Luke sheepishly retrieved the knife and handed it back to her.
"I think we should get going." she said, as if it was pretty obvious. Actually, it was.
Luke slowly made his way towards the hole in the wall.
"Where are you going?" the lady asked.
"Outside." Luke answered.
She grabbed him by his shoulders. "Not that way dummy! That's exactly where they would expect you to come out from."
Luke looked around the room. "Well? Where else are we getting out from?" Luke could see no passage, not even a small air vent that he could break. There wasn't even a door. Even worse, he could hear heavy footsteps from the hole.
However, the lady was already pointing a small gun with an unusually thick barrel at another wall. It was making an ominous whirring noise, and it was vibrating in her hands.
"I think you should cower behind that desk!" she called as the noise grew louder.
But too late. After a flash, bang, and some sort of crumbling, there was another hole in the room. Luke got hit in the head by a 'Best ~~Mum~~ Field Ops in the World' world mug that flew off the desk.
"This way!" she yelled, as she hopped outside of the room.
Luke shrugged, and followed her.
The two walked through a long and dank corridor that branched off multiple times. Occasionally, the ceiling had a few speakers hanging down. While she glided through the air gracefully, Luke was basically bouncing on the ground, huffing all the way.
"Uh..." Luke said, as his head lolled around while his legs had an argument with his heart and lungs. "Miss... Do you... actually... know where we're going?"
She replied just as swiftly as her legs. "No." She thought again, and said. "Don't call me 'Miss'. I'm not much older than you."
Luke looked up and down her, and decided she was not older than him at all. But he kept quiet for fear of disagreeing with her.
The familiar voice called out, "You can't escape. You will be punished."
The lady spat at the closest speaker. Luke winced. He felt woman shouldn't do anything as vulgar. He certainly didn't.
Just then, three very large men came out from one of the path from the side. Luke had to admit, they were one of the most frightening things he had ever seen, although he was always too skirmish to watch anything over R13. They were probably made to look frightening on purpose, what with the variety of armament they had on them, the very needlessly large mini-gun they carried, and their cold black shades.
While Luke imagined the worst of them, the lady threw some black powder at them. The men slumped on the floor.
"Argh! You killed them!" Luke was a pacifist. Actually, he was just a wimp, and he wished everyone else was a pacifist.
"No I didn't." she said calmly, and Luke decided that was enough, because now they were writhing on the floor in pain.
They ran further and further, while the voice chased after them, saying "That's a bad place to run to!".
Finally, the two came to a dead end. The happy voice said, "I told you so!" and the sound of approaching footsteps could be heard. The man started laughing wildly.
"Stay close." she said, and Luke was not a stupid man. She pointed her wall-breaking gun, at the floor and pulled the trigger.
Luke felt a moment of weightlessness, and that wild ecstasy that results when you think you're going to die, and your subconscious is unwilling to make your last moment a miserable one. Then he was taken out of his dreamland and realised he was going to die. Then came that thudding feeling like your thighs are going to pop out of your pelvis, after a thrilling escalator ride downwards.
After a while, he saw that he has descended about ten metres from where he was just a fraction of a second ago. The girl beside him was inhaling deeply.
"I'm alive!" Luke exclaimed in joyous jubilation.
"Ssh! Dummy!" she whispered. Sure enough, three small heads came round to peep in at the deep hole. Then they pulled out their portable mini-gun.
"Were stuck!" Luke panicked.
Then the ground beneath them failed, and they fell another two metres onto the concrete floor below.
As the hail of bullet rained on them, they scrambled to get out of the way.
Luke looked around. It was a very large room they were in, if it was a room. It was so large in fact, that he would have doubted there were any walls, had there was no ceiling. All the feature that were visible were some pipes that ran along the ceiling, occasionally some pillars that kept the gargantuan ceiling up, and a hole in the ceiling that continuously dropped bullets.
"I think we can walk slowly for now." the lady said calmly. It's going to take a while untill they manage to come down here, Luke."
He frowned. "How the heck do you know my name? I don't know yours."
She smiled gently. "We'll have to keep moving. We'll talk on the way."
She took out a compass without needles, determined a direction, and started walking that way. Luke followed slowly.
"So, who are you?" Luke asked.
"My name is Emily Byron," she replied. "I was sent to protect you."
Luke laughed. "You've done a great job so far. Why now?"
She smiled again. Luke noted that it was a nice thing to see, and it wasn't because she looked so pretty, but because it meant she didn't disapprove of you. "You have something that we want."
"I don't have it!" Luke protested. " I accidentally tripped on a mug, pushed Gyro over, who knocked down a vase, and..."
"Yes, yes. I heard that. But you are the one of only three people who actually know how the time machine worked."
"What about Archie? Or Trevor? They'd do well." A pipe fell on Luke's head and spilled its content on him.
"Yes, but Archie is too young to involve in our work, and Trevor, as you know, is very dead. He died quite long ago."
They walked in silence for a few minutes. Then Luke laughed hollowly.
"Death is no obstacle for Trevor." he said. "In fact, if I'm any judge..."
"I haven't seen you in a long time." said a voice behind a nearby pillar. The two turned towards it, and Emily pointed a much more menacing gun at it. Luke motioned for her to put it down. She didn't.
Luke said, "What took you so long?"
Trevor walked out from behind the pillar. And he was very much alive.

Being popular

2011-11-15T21:19:00.000-08:00

I found out how to be popular! Call them 'good sirs', and they start liking you. Unless they are female, as I found out at my cost.

Ah ha ha.

2011-09-14T17:37:00.000-07:00

I am embarassed to say that Ben had gone through a minor cranial injury. He has a hole in his head, which is what I really want to say.
So it's probably going to be a long time until Ben is back into action.

Some Blending

2011-09-13T16:20:00.000-07:00

Because I'm bored, I thought's I'll update you people watching (none) of what I was up to.
First, Ben got some trousers, so he's decent enough to be shown in public:

And I've also been working on a weapon which is completely unrelated to Ben. I like to call it the Impromptu, but I don't know about everyone else.

I intend to put the Impromptu to a certain purpose, which will be shown later... Much later. Probably after a year.
Well, I hope I hear from someone.

Honesty

2011-09-02T22:27:00.000-07:00

I don't know if I've said this, but Jack Hester is not my real name. Neither is Dominique for some of you out there. I'm serious. Jack isn't my real name, but I'd appreciate it if you would call me that here, or anywhere else you see me online.
Also, I'm going to change Dymo's name. Dymo doesn't cut it. He was going to be something much different, but he's developed a character of his own. I'm calling him Frederick Newton from now on. If you are against that, then come speak to me off line.

Thanks for staying here this long!

I am a Commercial Idiot

2011-08-06T00:44:00.001-07:00

I never liked sites that are clogged with ads. Turns out my site is turning into one.
So I'm going to slowly add some ads to my site, and if ever they get into the way of your enjoyment of browsing, then just alert me, and I'll just get to it.

P.S. I actually individually source my ads, so they can be trusted. I think.

P.P.S. Because I don't want my ads in the way of my precious viewers, I've put them way at the bottom. Hope that helps.

P.P.P.S. I don't get paid for clicks, so you don't have to go click 'em out of your way. I only get paid when I get people joining these sites.

How to write ADVENTURE

2011-08-04T02:44:00.000-07:00

Yeah, I'm hardly qualified to write such an article, but so what? I'm entitled to my opinnions.
Anyway, I found this site called Triond, and it pays me for writing stuff. I thought some of you might want to check out my first real article.
http://adf.ly/2IP2T
I am somewhat miffed as to why nobody would comment, and I have 10 views. Wait, those are my views. Damn.

Testing...

2011-07-18T19:13:00.001-07:00

myLot User Profile
Please ignore.

Well, Ain't That Fancy? Edgar Allan Poe

2011-07-18T19:06:00.000-07:00

Edgar Allan Poe is a marvellous writer who came to write in the 1800's.
Why am I suddenly talking about him? Because his poems are great. The two I'm talking about is 'Annabel Lee' and 'The Bells'.
Poe had touched me with his choice of subject and his sense of rhythm. Of life, joy, death, and love, Poe has done a magnificent work on his poems. American poetry at its best I must say. Or even in the whole world.
Then the rhythm. See 'The Bells' written on the page, and you just have to read/sing/whisper it out aloud. Have a go. It gets you talking in a sort of hurried, hushed tone that is so fitting for the subject.
I suggest everyone should go have a read. Please!

myLot

2011-07-18T13:36:00.000-07:00

You may see something new on your left, which is a link to my myLot account. I'm just tryiung to fund myself a bit here.
If you decide that you want to join and is asked for a referrer, please tell them Dymo75. It would be appreciated!

The Dymo Finale!

2011-07-15T14:20:00.000-07:00

Finally! I've finished. I'm not guaranteeing quiality though.

To the bitterest cynic, every tragedy is a solemn comedy. But even for an extreme cynic like Dymo, this was depressing.

Dymo stopped trying to find a way out of the desert 15 minutes ago. He tried for 30 seconds.

Dymo wouldn't talk. His lips were moist, only because the lazy sun beat at Dymo to sweat. He could almost feel his innards shrinking into something the size of a pea.

The vast area of orange was cackling at his feet. Or so it felt like it. It was darn hot.

Dymo dropped on to his back, as there was no point in standing anyway. He gazed at the sky. The sky was moving. No, he was moving.

He imagined little scorpions carrying him to his death, just like in movies made 15 years back when CG wasn't so common and you could see the scorpions were actually a puppet. But Dymo didn't get such a treatment. He was just getting swept by the wind.

Gyro loved where he ended up. He was a god.

The Mayans called him the Sky Boulder, because he fell out of the sky. Pretty quickly. And he accidentally gave the village elder a concussion.

While the elder got some treatment, Gyro had to presume his role. Despite his muteness, Gyro was dishing out great advice like hot cakes. None of the Mayans knew how he was doing it, but ideas started popping into their minds as soon as they neared him.

For example, they invented the calendar. Gyro taught them how to plan ahead, and anticipate the growing of the crops.

Gyro taught them about ceramics, and how to hold things together. He told them how to hold more than two things at once by using bowls, and still have one hand free.

Gyro loved his life.

Trevor found no reason to talk. He wasn't one to talk to himself. He wasn't one to talk at all really. But this was just amazing.

It was like something straight out of a movie. Or a book. Or a game. Or any type of media actually. It was great.

The view that invaded his eyes was a cityscape completely composed of what looked like steampunk. Lots of bronze, joints, pipes, moving bits, lights, lasers, robots, suits, oddly shaped buildings, and just everything. It was fantastic.

Trevor, being the sort of predictable type, decided he'd like to visit a hardware store.

'Hup hup hup hup' went the marauding Vikings. They tied Archie to a very long stake, and carried the stake like it was something to be proud of.

Archie thought there were about 50, maybe 60 Vikings, just hungry for flesh, any flesh. They were moving quickly across the icy plains, with occasional grass poking here and there.

'Um, good sirs?' Archie asked the Viking carrying him. Or at least, he was carrying the stake. Archie himself got hit into things multiple times, while the stake incurred no damage.

'Hey, can I get off? I'm getting uncomfortable.' Archie declared.

The Viking glared and barked some incomprehensible words.

'Oh, sorry,' Archibald continued. 'Can I at least readjust my right arm? It's getting squished against my ribs and...'

The Viking barked some more. This was going to be a long trip.

'Hey!' Dymo exclaimed, and fell in with a splash.

Water! he thought. Water!

The wind had swept him into an oasis! Turbulent jubilation exploded in his chest. Water!

The sense of the cool water touching his skin was too much for him, and he started swimming despite him not liking the sport.

Dymo crawled out of the oasis to get dry, and readied himself for a drink, when he saw that the oasis was small. Just as small as about four inflatable swimming pools for babies.

'Yuk', Dymo said. 'I swam in that? I ain't drinking anything from that.'

Dymo continued to lie on his back.

Trevor walked into a building that vaguely resembled a hardware shop. It was hard to know, because everything looked quite bronze.

A steam pump went on and made a strange noise as the door shut behind Trevor. He saw a man wearing an odd 'armour' with lots of moving part and none of them self-serviceable.

'Gosir, what will you desant today?' the man asked.

Trevor was puzzled. 'Ah, a fine day to you too. Sir?'

The man answered, 'Ah! Findal! We possove many Findals. Which would you desant gosir?'

The language must have changed, Trevor thought. Uh oh.

'Um, what are Findals?' Trevor asked.

'Yes! We possove many Watar Findals. What quantumber dostu desant?'

'Um...'

'Thanci. That would be thirty-ban goncer and sidat-wou mokes. Cats or chuk?'

The Mayans were learning quickly. Very quickly. They got electricity working, and now they're trying to go wireless.

Gyro instructed them to do almost anything. The village walls were protected by automatic rocket turrets, crops were grown by a complicated, biological clockwork attached to one farmer, and animals were hunted down by mechanical snipers shooting bullets made of bio solute. The Mayans were currently the most advanced civilisation of past, present, and future.

The Vikings stopped. Archibald was let down. Or dropped. Something was in the air. Even Archie felt it. It was frightening, that sense of presence, only you can't grasp what it might be.

Something rustled in the snow. A Viking went and plunged his sword into it. He pulled the sword out.

A mechanical bird was pierced on the end. Change.

Dymo was in a city. A steampunk city by the looks of it. Very... cool.

Dymo didn't feel anything. It didn't feel weird at all. It was like being in a dream, and now Dymo readily accepted anything.

Dymo sat up. An oddly looking pipe with lots of smaller pipes sticking to it flashed some lights. Then it moved. It faced this way, and announced 'Target Identity: Intruder - Prepare to Combat'

That was never good.

When Trevor finally got it to the shop assistant that he couldn't pay, he started yelling wildly. Trevor hated it when foreigners were angry at you, because he didn't know what they were yelling about. But in this case, it was worse.

The shop assistant was yelling loads of strange words, but it was also yelling some words Trevor knew to be 'bad words', the one taught by his mother to never say in public.

Then the assistant stopped. He looked around. Trevor too, felt something going on, and it wasn't nice.

Panic spread like fire in the village. It was as if the whole village was covered in oil for panic and rumours. Sky Boulder is gone! He's disappeared! Where did He go?

Mayans were texting each other on the beautifully paved road, asking frantic questions about their newly acquired god. Then something happened.

It was like a dream. Things kept on happening without Dymo really understanding anything. He dreamt he was back in the old terminator factory again. The familiar wires still dangled downwards from the ceiling, and the musty, cold, metal walls of the factory invited Dymo home, just like a cat would do to a small sparrow. Dymo looked around and saw everyone else looking befuddled.

'What happened?' Archie asked. 'I was caught by some Vikings. What happened to you guys?'

'I was in this awesome steampunk city,' Trevor said. 'They had a completely new language and the technology was... different.'

'Hey! I was in a steampunk city as well. Only I was in a desert first.'

Gyro transmitted the general idea of what happened to him.

'Ah!' Trevor started.

'Hey,' Dymo said. 'Whatever you're going to say, I'm going to say that I knew it. You're going to say something about Gyro creating the city from the past forward aren't you? And now because Gyro changed the world so much, that certain sections of time-space that concerned the four of us was segregated from the rest of time-space, and the for time to stop contradicting itself, it went on to a time before it started to contradict itself, which is now. Right?'

The rest of them dropped their jaws, except for Gyro who didn't have a jaw.

Archibald said, 'I didn't know you were so...'

'I was just going to say that I was a bit hungry, but yeah, I agree with you.' Trevor butted in.

'So now what?' Archie asked.

'Easy,' Trevor said. 'All we have to do is cause another explosion. See? The can is still there. What we have to do is to nominate someone to go around time, and if they're lucky, they'll eventually get somewhere where there's a time machine. If they don't, they can just cause another paradox; they'll come back, and try all over again. Only...'

Dymo knew there was a catch. 'Only what?'

'Only we can only have one person going at once, or else we'll be scattered across time again, and then if we get a machine, we won't know where we are. And the person who goes would be suffering extreme repetitiveness and boredom without growing old, which would be terrible. It's like being immortal without a purpose.'

Everyone was silent except Gyro. He was jumping up and down wildly.

‘Gyro, you don’t mind being bored for, I don’t know, a coupl’a million years do ya?’ Dymo asked. Gyro nodded affirmative.

‘Great, then it’s settled.’ Trevor said. ‘As Gyro goes off to start an explosion, we run off wildly very quickly. Great.’

The others weren’t listening, because they were already running off wildly very quickly.

The three gazed at the fantastic explosion from miles and miles away.

‘Now what?’ Archie asked.

‘We wait, Arch.’ Trevor asked.

Dymo said, ‘How long?’

Trevor shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Depends on whether Gyro actually got where a time machine is, and how accurate he is with the controls.’

They waited for another 3 minutes, and sure enough, a blue motorbike came into view.

‘So,’ Archie started. ‘I guess I’m stuck with you ay?’

‘Nope.’ Dymo answered. ‘I can hardly support myself on my income. I’m sorry you’ll have to go to Trevor’s.’

‘Hey! I never agreed to that.’ Trevor exclaimed. ‘Anyway, I’m dead.’

Dymo smirked. ‘We always have your machine.’

Absence

2011-07-15T13:33:00.000-07:00

Sorry 'bout the absence, but I was... Busy.
Well now that I have some time off and nothing to do, I can get back to writing that Dymo I started, and get started on a movie project I was planning instead of doing some documents.
Oh, and did I mention that Jack Hester isn't a real name. It's just a name I made to protect myself from identity theft. Now some say paranoid, some say weird, but I don't care. Just putting it out there.
I was also going to say that I am going to change Dymo's name after this. He was supposed to be a cute little thing, but I think he's grown to something mildly unlikeable, and that's not what I planned him to be. So I'm going to change his name to something better.
Oh, and for some reason, I concluded that people who put ads want money, and that they get ads when I click on them. So I, being a mildly considerate citizen, decided that's I'll click on ads. Well the trustworthy ones anyway. It's kind of my hobby now.
G'bye!

Long time no see

2011-06-13T02:51:00.000-07:00

I haven't posted in a while, but am just going to say I've run out of ideas. Blank. Zompla. Donk. Empty.
So... I guess you can't except a Dymo out of me for a while. I thought the Vikings was great though...
I've got a new idea for a game running. I havn't firmed up on gameplay yet, but it's a racer of sorts. Futuristic. Just playing with the idea's all.
Oh, and let me tell you folks, I am sometime's wondering why I keep this blog. Am I doing this for my own satisfaction? Do I want to contribute to the world? Or do I want to not dissapoint my reader(s)? Hm. Don't blame me if the blog goes kaputs.

Dymo After a Long Time

2011-05-31T01:52:00.000-07:00

Finally! I finished a continuation, only it isn't finished.

Dymo Part II

The two Dymos immediately chorused, "It wasn't my fault at all. It was all Archies fault. He'll tell ya."

"Right," said Trevor, quite unimpressed about all this unnecessary chatter. "Knowing who's fault it is won't solve anything."

"Yes it does." Frank said in his ever nonchalant way. "It means we know where we can direct our wild angst towards, and who to pour our concentrated bullying on."

"But it doesn't solve anything." Trevor said quite normally. "There's only two time machines here."

"Where?" asked Archibald. "I only see one."

A Dymo continued, "Yes, and I go on one of them becuse I've been here before."

"You?" another Dymo asked.

"No, you." Dymo said. "I stay here. You go off. And..."

"What happens, happened, or happening is inevitable." Trevor said.

"Oh, so this means I'll just go off on the time machine now should I?" A Dymo said.

His companion Gyro looked at him sternly.

"What do you mean I should wait to see if any of the others want the machine?"

"Selfish brute." Trevor muttered.

"I can hear that." the other Dymo said.

"Well, I'll just go off." the Dymo said. "See you in the future. The three-months-from-now future."

Dymo slowly slugged off into the time machine, and Gyro trotted quickly after him. With a flourish of light and quantum dimension enstrangulation interpolated particle entanglement, the garage disappeared into the 7th spacial dimension, taking a shortcut to the past.

"How nice." Frank said. "I hate sunsets. Well not really. But it's getting dark."

As the sunset became darker, Gyro started to glow a soft blue.

"I can see things." Dymo said. "Thanks Gyro."

Gyro huffed at his natural talent.

"So are you going to invent the terminator?" Archie asked.

"Yes I am." Trevor answered resolutely.

"Even though you know what's going to happen? You're going to die! It might... hurt!"

"Yeah, but I can't help it can I? I have to. It's inevitable."

"But you can't invent it if you can't get back."

"Well," Trevor started. Dymo understood the voice as now-I-am-going-togive-a-very-long-piece-of-information-full-of-unnecessary-proportions-and-you-do-not-even-want-to-hear-it-but-you-just-have-to-see-it-go-down. "By quantum spacial fluctuation in extra dimensions, I figure that to see to the it the timeflow shall not back bend into the..."

"Right." Frank and Dymo said, while Gyro sat listening eagerly. "Be simple."

"This motorbike is a time machine."

"Great!" Frank said. "Get me home."

"Sorry." He answered. "It only allows one sentient being at a time or else it will all merge into an organic mush."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." Frank said. He gracefully hopped off Archibald's shoulders, landed softly on the bike, and pressed a few switches.

"Goodbye." and the monkey and the bike was gone.

"Darn, that was our last hope. I was hoping to get back home, build my own machine, and come get you then."

"So were stuck?" Dymo asked. "Were good as dead?"

"No." Archie said. "We can wait for a rift in space to carry us over to..."

"THAT HAPPENS ONCE EVERY 3 MILLION YEARS!!" Dymo yelled. Gyro looked sadly at the ground.

"Don't be so sad." Trevor said to the matallic thing. "We still have each other."

"I barely know you people." Dymo muttered.

"We can all live our lives here. And there's a factory out there, maybe I can build a machine there."

"I'll help." Archie said. "I know a little bit about machinery."

Gyro bounced in excitement.

"I'm stuck out here with a bunch of techjunkies!" Dymo wailed. But no one can hear you in a time rift.

Wires dangled from the ceiling like cobwebs, and pieces of metal flew around the factory.

"There's nothing here!" Trevor cried. "How were they meant to build more terminators?"

"Aargh! We're really stuck!" Dymo wailed. "Where's food? Where's water?"

"Look! There's water!" Archie yelled.

"Where?" The other two aked.

"There's a tap."

"Oh."

Silence fell on the atomosphere. Nothing happened, and so Trevor started humming.

"Well, we need to get back right?" Archie asked.

"So what? We make a micro black hole, stand carefully on the edge, hope the velocity would be enough to..."

"Yeah!" Trevor said. "We're gonna cause a super explosion!"

"Oh, no." Dymo groaned.

Gyro dragged over a large transparent drum that contained some luminous green fluid.

"Oh, no." Dymo said again.

"I knew he needed an energy source..." Trevor said.

Archie readied some naked wires, and dropped it into the drum.

"Oh..." but Dymo didn't have time.

An almighty bang filled the room, a large fireball rose into the skies, and the four blew in the four winds.

"That was dumb." Dymo said after picking himself up. "If I've learnt anything from primary school, it's that you don't have anything to do with liquids you can't name."

He looked around a bit. He didn't see anything. It was all sand, sand, cactus, and sand. Absolutely sandy.

"Hey!" Dymo called, but not even echoes would answer him.

Archie saw light. He saw soft grass. He saw the kind sun warming his face.

He also saw marauding, barbarian vikings.

Oh, boy.

Just Talking

2011-05-10T02:24:00.000-07:00

I've read somewhere that people become uninterested in your blog if you don't do anything for a while. I say, people are already not interested in my blog, but I'm not ready to lose any visitors! Just so happens that readers want to know if their favourite writer is alive or not.
So first, I'm going to say, I'M ALIVE.
I'm also going to say I have more visits from the States than from New Zealand. I've also got 8 views from China as well. This means that Dymo Palace is (slowly) going global! Whoopee! Let's spread the word!

Cory and Rory Solution

2011-05-06T01:18:00.000-07:00

How unresponsible for me to post this and not the conclusion of the last Dymo episode. Oh well. I'm working on it at the moment.

So, remember Cory and his short temper?

To recap, let me remind you of the question, which was:

What should he have said to Rory instead of making that tantrum?

The answer was, "You were wrong!"

Let's see how the conversation would have went:

..."NEITHER IS TRUE!" Cory roared with so much force that it started raining on Rory.
"Then I am important and not an idiot."
"Ok..."
"So you were wrong."
"I am never wrong!" Cory mumbled indignantly, although a little hesitantly.
"Then you're an idiot. Because if you are not wrong, then my theory was right, which makes your inputed information false. Furthermore, you have stated that you were never wrong, which was wrong, which enforces my point that you are an idiot." Rory was starting to have fun.
"But, but, so you're not important." Taking one last attempt at insulting Rory.
"You are right. I am not. I am only a small bit of ink on the celestial blueprint of ..."
"You're wrong." Cory said stately. "You are wrong."
"excuse me?" Rory whispered quietly. He stopped walking, but didn't turn to face his acquaintance.
"You're wrong. There is no celestial blueprint of whatever you were going to say. Blueprints don't suddenly fly into the sky for no reason at all. And you are no ink. You are a man... um, boy.... er, certainly human, I think.... something alive."
"You imply, that my argument that 'only an idiot brings anything special' is wrong?"
"Yes I am. Took this long to realise?" Cory was starting to get the upper hand. Which made him feel smug. Oh, and it always shows on his face, which didn't help his reputation. "'cause ye see, either you're right or wrong. You can argue it to be right, but I can argue it to be wrong. All I have to say is that I am not an idiot and I my iPod is important. Then you can't argue against that because you were wrong."
"But that's not fair." said Rory who started walking again. "You're just inventing your own rules to play with."
"That's what you did first. You can't argue with that."
"True." Rory said, and entered Greek philosophy 4 minutes late, which was the earliest they have ever attended a class.

This one has actually been stewing in my drive for a long time now...

Lip Sync

2011-05-03T21:45:00.000-07:00

The reason you haven't heard from me all this time was because I've been working on this:

Round Ob Lip Sync from Jack Hester on Vimeo.

Although the animation, texturing, modeling, lighting, and cameras probably needed a bit of work, I'm kind of proud of my lip syncing...

I just want to say that the only reason I never tell what I'm doing in advance is because usually, my ideas enter developmental hell and never escapes. Luckily, this one was in hell for a few months, but it got there eventually. And I might say that the title of my next idea is 'Leaves'. This one might take off.

Hope I get to work on it soon!

Ignore if you are not part of the puzzle: Do not answer online

2011-03-22T16:41:00.000-07:00

What software did Seth Avery head up?
Ignore if you are not part of the puzzle hunt.

Philosophy and Logic

2011-03-15T23:52:00.000-07:00

Something a little different...

Once upon a time, two students, Cory and Rory, were strolling casually, (and slowly) to their next class, which happened to be Greek Philosophy. (Which CAN'T have made them walk slowly.)

As Cory started rummaging in his emptied, decapitated sheep that he calls a school bag, he said, "Darn. I think someone stole my iPod. Again."
"Hur Hur." snickers Rory, who was not a particularly nice person. "Only idiots bring anything important to this desease infested, thief ridden, bug crawling place you know."
"Ha!" snorts Cory, who wasn't very nice either. "You've admitted it! You're not important! Or you're an idiot. Which way? I've proved it!"
"Why?" Rory asked a little angrily. He was a proud boy.
"You brought yourself." he said in a matter-of-factly-and-you-can't-blimmin'-well-change-this-matter-of-fact way.
"Oh yeah?" Rory snarled. He was a better logician than his acquaintance. Then said in a cool voice, "So you're and idiot because you brought your iPod. Right?"
"What? Of course I'm not..."
"Then the iPod isn't important?"
"Well..."
"So you're an idiot."
"NEITHER IS TRUE!" Cory roared with so much force that it started raining on Rory.
"Then I am important and not an idiot."
"Ok..."
"So you were wrong."
"I am never wrong!" Cory mumbled indignantly, although a little hesitantly.
"Then you're an idiot. Because if you are not wrng, then my theory was right, which makes your inputed information false. Furthermore, you have stated that you were never wrong, which was wrong, which enforces my point that you are an idiot." Rory was starting to have fun.
"But, but, so you're not important." Taking one last attempt at insulting Rory.
"You are right. I am not. I am only a small bit of ink on the celestial blueprint of ..."
Cory shouted and swore ran off to Greek Philosophy in a huff and failed the pop quiz after that.

Question: What should have Cory said to Rory instead of shouting "I am never wrong!"?

Another Video

2011-03-03T18:44:00.000-08:00

I am sorry for the inconsistency, but anyway, this is my first render:

Cube Dude go Boom from Jack Hester on Vimeo.

In this one, I wanted to experiment with particles and explosions. It didn't turn out right, but oh well.

Whoopee! Round Ob flies!

2011-03-02T23:44:00.000-08:00

Here's something I've worked on for 5 hours. Mostly waiting for the computer to react. I made it on Blender with Suicidator City Generator by Piichan. You should check it out. Anyway, here it is:

City Flight with Round Ob from Jack Hester on Vimeo.

If you find it interesting, then spread the word.

And don't talk about the jerky movements. Critique it. I'm tough enough.

Social Experiment

2011-02-25T00:24:00.000-08:00

By the way, I have decided to conduct a social experiment. I will send a poem by e-mail to a select few people. They will send it to as many people as they can think of. Then hopefully, they will send it to as many people as they can think of.
Hopefully, after many rounds of that, it will all go nice and end up to Barack Obama, or Her Majesty, or even back to me!
Anyway, if the e-mail goes to you, you know what to do.

Mysterious Visits

2011-02-25T00:21:00.000-08:00

Okay, so here I am again.
Last time I checked, I had 667 visits. Then I had 690 visits. This probably means I'm upto 693-5. But really, where did I get the 23 views?
Natron, do you know anything about that? I certainly don't.

Dymo Returns

2011-02-08T23:46:00.000-08:00

It's been a long while since we last saw Dymo...

Archibald Scribbins knocked on the door five times.

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG
No answer.
"Is anybody in there?" he called.
"No there isn't!" someone called. "Go away! I feel sulky."
"There's nobody in there." Archie told Frank, the marmoset hanging on his shoulder. "I guess he should know whether there are anybody in there. He's in there, he should know best."
Frank slapped him in the face for such faulty logic. "He's in there you monkey!" (Yes. Frank talks. He came from somewhere foreign and foreigners do strange things to marmosets.)
"Ah, right." Archie sighed. Animals. They wouldn't know anything about logic would they?
"I'm coming in!" He barked. "I will open the door."
And he did. It creaked. It creaked the way a door of a house of a person of a sad disposition should.
"Arrgh!" the person in the middle yelled. "No respect for PRIVACY!!!"
"I'm sorry!" Archie babbled. "I didn't mean to!" Frank slapped him again forbeing so pathetic.
"Well don't do that again!" Dymo said. "Who're you?"
"I I I I'm Archibald. Scribbins. Scribbins. Yes Scribbins."
"And I'm Frank." Frank said quite nonchalantly.
"Well Scribbins." Dymo said. "What a stupid name your parents gave you for your first name. I mean, Scribbins will work for a last name, but a first name? That's cruelty. Bet you've been teased in school. 'Scribby! Scribby! He's all Scribbly!' I pity you Scribbins. I'm sure my sister married a Scribbins."
"Um, Scribbins is my last name."
"Well! Knock my hat off. Scribbins is not my last name. What a coincidence!"
"Is it?" Archie asked, getting a little suspicious of Dymo.
"Why are you here?" Dymo demanded suddenly.
"I I've got a note. From my mum. Um, your sister." He handed the letter.
Dymo read very quickly:

Dear Dymo

I'm sure you will ---- in -- ------ well. I ----- --- worked -- - ---------- at -------- Electrical Robots. ------ is ---- interested in -------- and ----- like to learn ---- ---.
- ---- -- leave him at your place ----- - ---- -- surgery on my kidney. - will be in hospital for - ------.
-------,

Amy

What it really said was:

Dear Dymo

I'm sure you will take in my Archie well. I heard you worked as a technition at Harvey's Electrical Robots. Archie is very interested in robotics and would like to learn from you.
I have to leave him at your place while I have my surgery on my kidney. I will be in hospital for 6 months.

Regards,

Amy

"Ah" Dymo said after reading it properly the second time. "You've come to the wrong place."
"Why?" Archibald asked. "You're Dymo aren't you?"
"Sure am. But I don't work at Harvey's. Trevor does. I empty the long drops at tramping grounds. I probably get more pay than Trevor though."
"What! So I'm supposed to get to Trevor's? But I don't have transport!"
"And I hate busses." Frank joined in.
Gyro nodded sympathetically.
"I could send you to Trevor." Dymo said. "Only..."
"Only what?".
"Trevor had a terrible accident."
"What happened?"
"He invented the Terminator. The Terminator killed him, went into the future where the factories are better, started multiplying, then went off to stop a Revolution that was supposed to happen in the farther future."
"Supposed to?"
"Yeah, only Trevor invented a time machine before and knew this was going to happen. So before he died, he went to the middle future, ran over Termy on his Harley Davidson, stopped the factory, and came back to the present, which is our past, and then after a year or so, he died after he invented the Terminator, which went to the future, and started a factory..."
"I get it. So he's dead. But do you have the time machine?"
"Yeah, only I don't use it for winning the lottery. So don't expect that."
"NO!" Archibald exclaimed. "We could tell Trevor not to go back, and instead go to our time!"
"That won't work." Dymo said. "The times and events aree set. Whatever we do, it will not change what has, is, or will happned, happening, or happen. It's no use. I've tried before."
"We can try again." Archie said.
"No we can't." Frank said. "I hate travelling. I even hate walking."
"Exactly!" Dymo said. "It'll be a long trip. Trip to the past."
Gyro liked the sound of that. He liked long trips because sooner or later, Dymo got bored of his music and put on Gyro's music.
Archibald dashed off to the garage. Everyone followed.
"Where's the machine?"
Dymo pointed at the controls. Which kind of looked like the garage door control. "The whole garage is the time machine."
Gyro started fiddling with the controls. Loud noises started booming from the walls. The lights startred flickering. Some pieces from a large Ming Dynasty vase Archie didn't notice before started assembling itself. The radio started playing songs that were "so yesterday".
Then everything went still.
Everything went black.
The lights came back on.
There was another Dymo and another Gyro.
"Who're you?" A Dymo asked.
"I'm you only I'm three months older." another Dymo said nonchalantly.
"So I'm coming back here three months from now?" the first one said.
"Yup. Your nephew's gonna visit as well. It's his fault".
"Ah, I see you have visitors".
"He made me."
"It's my job to say that."
"Not yet."
And so the conversation between two Dymos went.
Archie stepped outside the garage.
It was all red and grey. Cyborgs trooped everywhere. Birds were replaced by spy crows. Grass was covered by concrete.
Everything was industrialised. And a man was riding a bike.
A Terminator yelled from the top of a building, "Stop him!".
The present Dymo came out. "Ooh, then he remembers all Terminators are still in production."
"Wait!" the robot yelled. He jumped down from the building, stepped in front of the biker, then got blown into lots and lots of little, sharp, evil, cunning pieces. Well, it wasn't so cunning now, but evil is set in substance.
The biker braked. He gazed at the garage.
"Oh..." he said.

To Be Continued

Review: Blender 2.5 Beta

2011-01-31T14:07:00.000-08:00

Every blog has a review, whether it be books, movies, or new gadgets. So today, I felt like reviewing Blender 2.56 Beta.

I've been using 2.49b for a long time, and I didn't want to use any of the 2.5 unless it was finalised. But after a little explosion sim, I found I really needed the Solidify Modifier Blender promised me. So I got my hands on Blender 2.56 Beta last week.
First glance at the Interface. Ooh! It looks all shiny! I felt it was much more aesthetially pleasing then the 2.4s. It had a new air of cool.
But apart from that and the new features, it was quite terrible. First, I had a problem locating the particles and modifiers because they were all over the place. Very annoying. In fact, I was looking almost all the tabs and buttons, and not finding any.
Then I didn't like the way all the names have changed. I wanted the Action Editor, but I needed the DopeSheet. I wanted the Buttons Window, but I needed the Properties.
But I guess they were all right. I mean, I could probably get used to that can't I?
But one thing I found really annoying was Round Ob. My 2.49 model of Round Ob was suddenly all over the place! His armature wasn't in him any more, and his arms go right through his back! What happened there? I guess some of my old models don't work with the new software.
The last thing I felt annoyed at was the loop cut. In 2.49b, I got to press Ctrl-R, move my cursor where I want the cut, then I was in Grab Mode choosing where exactly I wanted my cut. In 2.56, it just automatically cut in the middle. Grr!
Well, I felt like 2.5 wasn't right for me, and re-installed my 2.49. Back at familiar ground.
But after all that, I still keep 2.56. Why? Because it's still a great peice of software. I have to work my 2.4 models on my 2.49b, but any new projects, I'll do on 2.56.
So over all, I believe that 2.56 is a great new take on Blender for new people, but I suggest that old hands keep their old software as well.

3 Year Old

2011-01-31T13:50:00.000-08:00

I was digging around in my ol' hard drive again, and look at what I found!

You have never heard of him, and you might never hear about him again, but I called him Round Ob about four years ago. He is not well rigged, or thought about. I named him Round Ob because I started with a UVSphere and extruded a body to it. So he was a Round Object. Round Ob.

They say many things can recall old memories, like food, smells, old collectibles, and smelly old collectibles. Now they can add .blend files to the list.

Cube in 3D

2011-01-13T10:33:00.000-08:00

I really hope you have one of those red and blue 3D glasses. Also, I wanted to put this in my previous post but thought it was a different thing.
I was digging around in my old memory stick when I found Anamk108. You can Google it and find it too.
This was for making anaglyphic pictures. Now you know what to do. Get those paper glasses where ever they are! Under the bed, on the shelf, the back of the couch, in a furball, or as a standing bookmark.

Remake of Cannon Cube

Remake of Pillar of Fire

Top of the Temple. It's not very good, but, how did he get up there?

As a 3D image, terrible. But it explains how he got up there.

All I did was delete the existing camera, made a new one facing down, duplicated it, moved in the X direction, and made the original camera parent. Then I had two cameras to snap with!
Hope those 3D glasses have survived!

Cube on Goes to an Old Temple

2011-01-13T10:14:00.000-08:00

Here's a mini story I made up in a few hours so it is not very well thought out. Also, it is not animated because our computer can't handle the rendering process for animation.
SO...

One day, Cube Dude went to visit the simple temple in this simple barren world.

"Wow! That looks very high!"

"What a nice view!"

"The Wrath of the Almighty decends on thee!!"

I admit it wasn't very good as a story because a) it didn't have much purpose, and b) If I want to do a fire, I can only do pillars.

I hope Cube Dude will be this much fun to play with again!

My First Proper Render

2011-01-10T18:06:00.000-08:00

I am still trying to learn Blender, and try to animat and stuff like that, but I have realised that I always aim too high and do something I possibly can't do. These are my first renders, made to be renders, and not half finished as well. I whipped these up in a few hours:

Loaded

Fire!

I decided to practice on low poly meshes for now. I also expect from cube dude, (as I call him for now) later on in his series. Critique would be accepted.

By the way, I am trying to get the particles working for a smoke effect but I can't get them as near realistic as I want. Could someone help? Thanks!

Dymo Tries to Make a Game

2010-12-26T19:36:00.000-08:00

It's been quite a while since the last episode. So here it is.

He woke up one day to find that he wanted to make people laugh.

He brushed his teeth and thought he wanted to make people cry.
He ate his breakfast and thought he wanted to make people sweat.
He drove to work and thought he wanted to make people bang their heads on the wall from sheer annoyance and angst.
He went to work, told the boss that he was leaving. He went back home to work with Blender.

After Dymo told the story, Gyro looked at him disdainfully. It wasn't fair that Gyro had to starve to death from lack of a muluctary source because Dymo had a mood swing. No, Gyro didn't eat, therefore he didn't die of starvation, but the Wii was rented, and he could probably die from not having it.
Dymo crouched over the computer going over his first model.

It seemed so easy at first. Like really, get a plane, extrude, grab, extrude more, rip a hole in it, maybe add some textures, add an armature, animate, render, and BOOM! You have an animation. Then save the IPO, program, repeat, and you have a game. Dymo found it wasn't anything like that at all. NO it, was terrible. It was, get a plane, extrude, hmm, doesn't look right, extrude, rip a hole in it, rip a hole in the monitor, throw it away, sulk for the rest of the month. It was hard.
He was in the middle of a sulk, and he saw that Gyro had bought a new computer and started trying as well.

At the end of the week, Dymo had a simple game that consists of two players trying to knock each other off a platform. It had no style or sense at all.
Gyro had in fact, got a fully fledged first person MMPORPG with editable characters and levels with 33 plugins and attachments.
For Dymo, it was very depressing and lowered self-esteem. It wasn't helpful at all.
Dymo promptly put the game in the bin and forgot about it from then on.

This is Dymo's game for anyone who would like to have a go:
http://www.mediafire.com/?7zgdho5k6n5k716

It is very glitchy, it has no style at all, and I probably forgot to put the controls in. If I have then Player 1 moves with the arrow and Player 2 moves with WASD. Oh, and you will need two players for the most fun.

Ideas for the Blender Shop

2010-12-13T19:18:00.000-08:00

Blender is great. We all know. But of course, sometimes we want more. In fact, right nor, I want more! So here are some ideas for some Blender Merchandise for anyone interested!

1. Action Figures.
Sometimes, characters seem to be yelling to be made into an action figure. I believed that Proog and Sintel were just speaking out to me.

2. Soft Toys
The second best thing would be a soft toy, and a Baby Dragon toy would be cute, wouldn't you think?

3. Proog's Stick

I have always wanted a walking stick. No, I am not crippled, but walking sticks are classy. So what would be better than a walking stick? Proog's stick!! Seriously, they should manufacture them immediately.

4. Blender Licensed Games
With the release of such peripherals such as the Wii and the Playstation Move, Sintel and Elephants Dream could easily be a great game.

5. Blender Themed Christmas Baubles
Well, the Christmas seasone is nearing, why not have some Blender Logo hanging from your tree?

6. Portable Blender Player
I don't know if anyone is interested in this as me, but I was thinking of a portable Blender player, a portable device made strictly to use Blender, Blender Games, and videos. You can't always have a computer ready, and with the limited functionality, it probably could execute Blender efficiently.

7. Blender Story Books
Well, at the moment, there's only Big Buck Bunny is really appropriate for being a children's book, but it would a healthy reminder of Blender when you are not in front of the computer.

Of course, these are only ideas I made in three minutes, and they were completely born from my whim. I might not feel this way after a month, but they are still ideas!

Scratch Cat gets typing!! and Magic Eye

2010-11-25T23:41:00.000-08:00

Typer Cat is my second scratch project. It teaches children (and adults(maybe)) typing.

http://scratch.mit.edu/projects/Dymo/1441901

Play the typer game in the above link.

If anyone has started working on Scratch, please note me of any projects!!

Also, I have found a Blender tutorial (of which I cannot be bothered to post the link to. But it was on the linux gazzete) I've finally figured out how to do depth maps! Also, after some hacking and other things, and mostof all, this: http://www.easystereogrambuilder.com/magic-eye-stereogram-maker.aspx I was able to make a picture I will add to My Pictures.
10 points to the first person who finds out what picture it is! Clue: Magic Eye

Posting Frequency: and other things I feel like saying

2010-11-20T00:41:00.000-08:00

Some of you may have noticed that I don't post for sometime (a long time this time) then when I do post, I post about 3-5 at once. Well, this is because I get down drafts during those times, and then I post them all at once. Just thought I'd get it out there.

Currently, I am sad and happy about this blog. Sad, because I have one follower at the moment. That is very sad for me. Sometimes, I just think, "What's the point?" and don't feel like posting again. Sometimes, I feel very dejected because other blogs have loads of followers and I think to myself "What am I doing wrong?"
On the other hand, I am pretty happy because according to ClusterMaps map, I have a few viewers. They actually kind of cheer me up.

So I have a mission for you all. I want you to not go out of your way, but kind of spread the word. Thank you.

N64

2010-11-20T00:10:00.000-08:00

Nintendo 64. How could anyone not miss them? Anyway, I've been reminiscing the old days, and found Project 64.

I don't know why I posted this, but I did. If anyone is playing online, I'll be in Desiree's Server by the name Giga.

Scratch

2010-11-20T00:07:00.000-08:00

I haven't been posting recently, because I had a little problem and was a little busy. But I stumbled upon a pretty good software called Scratch. Have a look.
http://scratch.mit.edu/

It looks pretty childish, but it's fun when you get into it. Really.
I posted one of my project out there. Ummm something about physics. I'm called Dymo in there too. Hope I see anyone out there!

Dymo Episode V

2010-11-20T00:04:00.000-08:00

This is mediocre because I wrote it in what? 10 minutes? 5? Anyway, enjoy.

Dymo has a job as a lawyer. Of course, we never said he was a good (or well known) lawyer, and he never really gets a job call. In fact, he has to sustain himself by cleaning out the long drops in public campsites on weekends. (Not that he complains because he gets paid well.) So naturally, when his lawyery prowess was wanted, he jumped straight into the job.

A presumed Geoff Cameron sat on the small bench in Dymo's office.
Dymo read his story.
"Really?" Dymo asked Geoff. "Is this all true?"
"You doubting me?" he retorted. "I could ask a different lawyer y' know. It just so happens that you have the lowest rate."
"No no, please. It's just that it seems so far fetched and..."
"The case is tommorrow, and ye better be ready by then."
Dymo looked blank for a moment. Then he thought about what he should say. So he stayed blank. Then life came back into his face.
"What? Tommorow?"
"Thank you very much, I'm sure I can leave now."
Geoff started getting up, opening the door. (At the same time. It was a small office.)
"But wait! I don't know anything yet. You can't leave me..."
But Geoff had already left the building.
"He could've told me which place we were going." Dymo said resentfully.

The next day, there were a lot of juries because the court had decided that this was a hard case. In fact, it was so hard, that they needed to call the fire brigade to crack open the briefcase.
The prosecution's lawyer coughed as he looked inside the remains of his case. He found some matches, his soggy lunch, and the fact sheet all crumpled up.
"Well," he started. "We are quite sure what we are here for today. We are here, to argue about Mr. Cameron's property, scuffle a bit, get on with some hearty fisticuffs, and end with at least three ribs broken."
The jury cheered at the proposal.
"So, just to get this over and done with, I believe that my client has every right to be treated as an equal to human beings and be free. Thereby, I order Mr. Cameron to release his carpet."
The jury gasped. One of them said, "So we were called here to decide the fate of a carpet?"
"Not just any carpet." the lawyer said. "A magic carpet! With a will and mind like you all!"
The jury gasped.
The carpet walked into the court.
The jury gaped.
This carpet didn't look special, Dymo noted. Except for the fact that it was walking on its two back corners. It looked just like any high quality, hand woven, highly historical, silk Persian rug. And to be honest, it was pretty small.
Unfortunatly, the jury was roused up by the lawyer's short speech. They were already simpathising with the carpet.
Dymo called out. "Wait! It is still a Thing, is it not?"
The jury murmured a disapproval. "Surely it has feelings and thoughts?"
Then Dymo tried the honest approach. "Ah, but if your roast chicken started dancing around and doing the mambo, wouldn't you go on eating it? Anyway, you guys all like sausages right?"
Some of the jury murmured something like approval.
"Wait!" the lawyer exclaimed. "But this carpet is not livestock! Why should we not spare him?"
"Why shouldn't we spare livestock?" Dymo sneered.
"Because they are... livestock." The lawyer was running out of comments.
"Ah ha!" Dymo declared. "That's like racism! It's like saying we don't need to care about black people, or white people, or yellow people, or blue people, or green people, or people with polkadots. It's not fair! You're saying that a life of a carpet is more important then those of a cow!"
Then the lawyer had an idea. "Ah, but this carpet will be alive, and will be trampled on for his whole living life. That is torture and cruelty!"
Then the lawyer started laughing maniacly because he was very happy about this blow.
Dymo shifted his foot uneasily. Then said "Can we have the fisticuff now? Winner wins the court case."
"Agreed!" squealed the lawyer.
So Dymo and the Lawyer started having the fight. So did Geoff Cameron and the carpet, because Geoff wanted his carpet back and the carpet wanted out. Then the jury and judge started joining in for the heck of it.
After a moment, the lawyer was thrown three meters into the air.
Then the carpet realised what a stupid thing he was doing, and walked outside nd became free onhis own accord.
Then Dymo realised what a stupid thing he was doing, went home, and started writing a letter to Geoff for the fee.

Ouch! The bench just nipped me!

2010-08-25T01:56:00.000-07:00

As strange as that may sound, it's true in China.
In China, they came up with a wonderful idea to get everyone have a fair go on the benches. SPIKED BENCHES.
Over there, parks are usually crowded, and some get there during the early hours of dawn and hog the seat for themself. This is hardly fair for the others, so they made a contraption where if you don't frequently pay the bench, it makes needle shoot out of the seats.
Don't believe me? Go look at this:
http://craziestgadgets.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/07/pay-to-sit-bench.jpg

That might hurt a little bit. Makes you wonder why you didn't think of it first, eh?

Few stirring words

2010-08-20T01:14:00.000-07:00

Although this blog is centered in New Zealand, I have seen some visitors from North America and the regions near it. This is very good news for me.
Anyway, that's not what I came here to say. I want to open up for ideas for Dymo because, face it, this is the Internet and the Internet is about sharing isn't it?
I know some of you are out there not interacting, but do so please. It's good motivation.

Also as a side note, to those who I am talking to, you know who you are. If you are going to comment, you will call me, Jack, Hester, Jack Hester, Gubbs, or don't call me at all. You know who I am talking to. This is all for security.

New ways of thinking

2010-08-20T00:54:00.000-07:00

I am still working on Episode IV. It is not that it is hard, it is just that I am struggling to find time. So I felt that I should write something now.
Intrguing thought: Treat others the way you want them to treat you.
Very true I must say. But there was a very interesting story I read recently.

A lady finds herself in a predicament where she has the choice to run off with her friends assets.
But of course, that won't be nice for her friend, and she wouldn't like that to happen to her would she?
But they lock up murderers and it doesn't mean we should be locked up. It means we should be locked up in that circumstance. And knowing her friend, she would have run off in the circumstance.
So she goes away and runs off.

What do you think about that?

Sorry For the Formatting

2010-08-10T21:35:00.001-07:00

Just can't seem to this right. Any suggestions, please comment. And comment on the other stories too.

Dymo Game

2010-08-07T20:01:00.000-07:00

Well, after quite a lot of Episodes in one go, I'm quite sure we want new news. A Dymo game is in production. Still young, but is materialising as you speak. Just wait.

Get ready for episode IV

Episode III

2010-08-07T19:59:00.000-07:00

I've had this one for quite a while and I wanted to keep it for a while, but here it is now.

DYMO Episode III

Dymo's Day Off

He woke up at 2 a.m. to the noise of clanging.

"Ohhh. Would you please be quiet in the weekends Gyro?" (That's what he calls the Gyroscope now")

Of course, Gyro was only acting like a pet made of metal. Only a bit more intelligent. He (or she, or it, whatever) held up a tray.

Dymo looked at it in wonderment. "You made this for me? You shouldn't have! You are the best cook I know Gyro!"

Dymo ate with relish as Gyro looked on with pride.

"Gyro! Time for walkies!"

Gyro jumped with joy and ran (or bounced, it doesn't have legs remember) out.

"Hey! HEY! STOP!" Dymo yelled as Gyro smashed into a speeding car.

The car blew up with such a noise that could be heard from the next country.

Dymo gazed at the crash site as Gyro leaped up from the pandemonium. Rubble and scraps flew all over the place.

"Oh no..." He groaned.

A car with ECILOP on it pulled up, and a gaunt man came out.

"Please sir! It wasn't me it wasn't my fault! Please don't throw me into the pokey!" Dymo pleaded.

The ECILOP man slapped him. "Pull yourself together man! I was just about to congratulate you on annhilating that poor little sod in the car who was actually a madman that killed many people with three spoons, a macheine gun shaped bag, a macheine gun shaped macheine gun, two grandfather clocks, and one of those new laptops by Windows that squirt water on you when you type and then takes a picture of you getting squirted."

"Wha..."

And Gyro secretly looked pleased with himself.

CLING CLAAANGTY CLONG CLOONGTY CLONG CLUNK CLIIIINK CLUNK CLUCLICLACETYTYTYTY

Gyro sang in the shower.

"Could you please get out?" Dymo asked. "You're going to drain the hot water!"

Dymo heard the water getting stopped, which was a relief.

Gyro jumped out, and Dymo jumped in, and he failed to see that Gyro was shivering.

"Ohhh, late in the night! I see the moon! And the thatcher..." he began. "So where does our answers taaaake uuuuuus. I see a...oh, oh no, arrgh! Oh! Drat! Noo!"

Dymo sighed. He had never seen ice come out of shower heads before.

"Well, time to hit the hay I guess."

He slumped into bed. Gyro had already settled down beside the bed.

The weekends never seem to have enough time for the things he wants to do.

The End

Finally, EPISODE II PART II

2010-08-07T19:57:00.000-07:00

Never before released!

Dymo and the Gyroscope: Part 2

"Okey dokey. Bill! This one's a biggy! It might take a while!"

The trash man whistled at the strange constuction on the street. "Darned to know who had this." He hoisted up the mass of rings and threw it in the garbage truck.

"Done!"

And the truck drove off just like that.

Dymo gawped at the gyroscope that sat on his doorstep.

"What is this doing here?" he screeched. Then he found a logical explanation.

"Of course, the trash man could've forgotten. Or didn't know. Yes. That must be it." The more he said it, the more he believed. "I'll just leave it here for another week."

So he ignored the contraption. He had a special chocolate cake waiting at the bakery.

He walked a few steps, when he heard a definite:

CLONK CLANK CLINK CLONK CLO...

Dymo looked back. He didn't see anyone behind him. Had that bush shuffled? Must be some birds. He dismissed it and walked onwards.

CLINK CLANK CLIDONK CLIPPLETY CLONKETY FLUTTERY COLONKE...

OK. This time, Dymo saw something but he didn't know what. He became nervous. He walked faster.

CLINKCLANKCLONGCLANKCLICKETYCLOCKWORKYSCREECHYCLACKETYCLIPPERTYCLANK

Dymo looked back again.

The gyroscope fell off a tree.

"What the...You are... But I thought... That's not... orthodox!" Dymo spluttered.

The gyroscope looked a little sheepish. (As much as a pile of metal rings can anyway)

"You! Stop following me!" He yelled at the mass of metal, which earned him a suspicious glance from the public.

"Just you... Don't that... Oh, what the heck!"

Dymo walked into the old curiosity shop. The old man looked up. Dymo held the scope up.

"Hm... What do you want with me?" The old man said.

"I want an explanation!" Dymo fumed. "Why is this thing alive?!"

"Simple. It's made of Intelligent Wolfram." The gyroscope seemed to take pride in this as it gleamed a little more than usual.

"But, why me?" Dymo asked.

"You'll know soon. I know things. And the Gyroscope knows stuff you can't imagine."

"But I don't want it!" Dymo bellowed.

The gyroscope seemed to be sad.

The old man looked at him in A Way, and even Dymo couldn't help but be sympathetic.

"Oh all right." Dymo gave in. "But no making any mess, right?"

The end

Episode II Part I

2010-08-07T19:56:00.000-07:00

I know a few has read this before, but...there are some who havn't. And thanks to the person who sent me Episode I!

Dymo and the Gyroscope

Dymo walked into the local curiosity shop. As ever, it was dark, musty, and dusty. The old man still sat behind the counter, not really looking at anything, but still watching for thieves.

There was always something about the curiosity shop. Firstly, it was quiet. Deathly quiet. No matter how loud it is outside, it is always quiet inside. Then, as soon as you went in, it was like stepping int a different world. No sense of wonder, but a cold, dark, seperated feeling. Even the teenage rogues of the area dared not deface the walls of the shop. Lastly, it knew what you wanted. If you came in with intent on buying something, then it's there. And cheaply too. But if you are there for a light browse, youcan find the most unexpected thing in there.

On this particular day, Dymo was looking for a chainsaw. (He still had the Cold Chocolate) But the old man stopped him.

"Stop!" he said. Dymo heard him talk for the first time. "You will need this!" and he handed Dymo a contraption full of rings.

"Off you go." he said before Dymo could say anything. The man booted Dymo out of the shop.

Dymo, being the sensible type, said to himself, "Better get home and cook dinner. It's getting dark."

So he went home and had some pork stew with prawn soup on the side. then he observed the strange tool.

"I wonder what the old man was thinking?" he said to himself. Then promptly threw it in the bin. "Hm... Today's Tuesday, so tommorow is binday. It's amazing how things work out."

TO BE CONTINUED

Dymo Episode I

2010-08-07T19:54:00.000-07:00

The First Episode is HERE! Yay!

DYMO

Dymo is a name that will provoke imaginations. What does he look like? Well, he is green, has short stubby limbs, and is basically round.

A not very long time ago, in a galaxy not far at all, (dramatic chords of jubilation) there was a cafe. And by chance, Dymo happenned to be there.

He sat down on one of those small chairs that never have enough room for your bottom, and looked at the small table that never have enough room for four to sit around.

He looked at the menu.

Menu

Toasted toads $4.60

Orange Orangutan $9.95

Newt Coffee $50.45

Slippers $32

Tango Tangerine Priceless

Hot chocolate $4

Cold Chocolate $6

.....

and so on.

A waiter passed by, and Dymo asked, "Why is the cold chocolate more expensive, than the hot one? Surely it doesn't take as much energy to make it because you don't need to heat it?"

The waiter replied "I doon't knoo mon. Wood yoo like some?"

"Yes please" said Dymo and he got some.

When his Cold Chocolate came he looked at it disparingly for 3 hours.

It was frozen.

After 3 hours, Dymo realised that his drink was not going to thaw itself, and unless he did something, $6 would go to waste.

So he took it home, and hired everything he could possibly think could help from a hiring firm. (It boasted free dilevery)

First, he tried the most obvious thing to to, microwave it. This didn't help in the least.

Next, he put it in the oven. This burnt the paper cup off, but it didn't really help.

Then he got a pneumatic drill, this helped with the laundry (the starch hardened the colar so) but not with the thawing.

"DARN YOU BLASTED NON-ALCOHOLIC, SUGAR-INFESTED, NON-FREE-TRADE CACAO USING L********K D********K E****l W***N OF A BEVERAGE!" Dymo yelled in exasperation. (You could see he was not happy because of all the asterixes)

Lastly, he got one of the most famous, science-fiction-turned-to-science-fact weapon of all time. (Sincerely dramatic chords of risky behaviour) THE LIGHTSABER.

It did not help. (Oh, but not entirely not help. It helped with the cooking, mind you. The ham was getting pretty old and tough, so Dymo decided it was time to chop it up and put in the stew he found in the back of his fridge. But that really wasn't neccessary because you see this would have...)

So at the end, Dymo realised the cold chocolate was too much trouble so he kept it in the back of his drawer, almost never to be seen again.

TO BE CONTINUED

Does anyone have Episode I?

2010-07-29T00:26:00.000-07:00

Problem! I have circulated Dymo Episode I, but my sister deleted it! Does anyone have it? If so, please send it to dymoblade@gmail.com
Thanks!!

Yay!

2010-07-23T00:34:00.000-07:00

Are you reading this? If so hooray!
I made this Blog because I wanted to post stories. Feel free to give suggestions!

Note: I'll also be posting some other activities on the web too.