Today is Tuesday, August 25th.
Sunday, August 23rd, my mom and I went to a Renaissance fair. Now, for those who don't know what that is, it's a fair where people dress up in medieval costumes and put on shows for people. They have performers, dancers, magicians, and merchants.
My mom and I wandered around just looking at the booths for a few minutes, and came upon this one called Mercenary Mercantile.
For those who don't know what that means, a mercenary is basically a hired sword. During wars, they took the side of whoever would pay them the most. Mercantile is supplies.
So, Mercenary Mercantile is supplies for a mercenary. That means weapons.
I do so love weapons. I especially enjoy blades, because they're really the most dangerous. It's a lot harder to dodge a blade that's less than a foot away from you than a bullet from 20 yards out, or whatever.
So, I went into the booth, and this guy had plenty of blades. The first thing I picked up was a small starter's throwing knife. Now, in Oklahoma, there's a law that says you can't carry a knife with a blade bigger than the palm of your hand.
I checked. It's a legal knife! Yes! But, before I bought it, I checked out a few daggers, picked up a larger throwing knife (for more skilled throwers) and then went to the swords he had. I drew one and loved the feel of it in my hand.
The guy explained to me that I was holding a baby claymore. It's an awesome kind of sword used to lop of people's heads as- get this- as you rode past them on your horse! How awesome, right?
Well, after carefully review prices, I decided to get three throwing knives.
So, yesterday, I started really practicing with them, throwing them at my uncle's tree for a half hour.
First off, if you throw at a tree, it's dangerous. The tree's bark usually won't allow the blade to stick, instead causing it to bounce back. And, since the tree is round, the blade will hit it at some unpredictable angle and bounce in some random direction. But, before I wised up to that, I did manage to stick it three times.
Hey, I didn't say I was good at it yet.
Now, let me tell you something. Throwing a throwing knife for a half an hour is the equivalent of throwing a bowling ball for 5 minutes. You're sore afterwards.
So, I went inside and looked on the Internet (sweet, glorious place filled with dumb asses) and looked up throwing knife targets. I followed some false information that said a railroad tie was perfect for it, because
1: They're easy to move.
2: They're soft and will allow your blade to stick.
Who here has ever tried to move a 10 foot railroad tie made out of wood? All right. Now, how many have done it by themselves?
That's what I thought.
Let me tell you, moving a railroad tie is not easy. You should not attempt it yourself unless you're easily able to lift over 600 pounds easily.
You can't carry these things, you can't drag them with rope (more on that later.)
I tried flipping one end-over-end. I managed to do it easily all of once before I got worn out.
I went inside for a break. Whoa. A half an hour had passed for me to flip it a single time!
So, I waited for a few minutes, went back out there and started trying again.
I'm a determined guy, once I set my mind to it.
I got an idea then. My uncle had this flimsy little rope, closer to twine, really, out on his back patio. It's been in the weather for at least a year. But I decided to try it. I untangled it, went to the tie, slipped the rope under, looped it, knotted it tight, and started pulling.
Snap! went the rope. I looked at it, decided it was no good, and threw it away.
I found this little dolly out in my uncle's yard. Y'know, one of those things with two wheels, a flat little bottom type thing. People move refrigerators on them? Yeah, those.
I tried moving the tie with that. No such luck. I managed to get it two feet before the gentle slope in the yard beat me. I went inside and took a three hour break.
I went back outside and decided that instead of pushing it up the slope, I needed to pull it. So, I turned the thing around and managed to easily pull it to this large steel post that's jutting out of my uncle's yard for no apparent reason. I set the tie so that I could prop it against the post, moved the dolly, and lifted it. I got it straight up, stepped out of the way, and moved my hands.
I stepped out of the way because you don't want to be in that thing's path when it falls. It'll split your head open like grapes between Julias Caesar's teeth.
I watched as it fell, and thought 'Boy, I wish I had something to tie this up with...'
Isn't life a joke?
It took me all of two minutes to realize 'Hey! that rope might not be good for dragging, but it'll be great for tying it!'
So, I tried it. Yes! My railroad tie was up! I celebrated by taking out one of my knives and throwing away at it.
I spent another half hour throwing the knife. Mostly, I heard the clang of failure, even when the blade hit. Twice, I heard the thunk of success, but that was just the knife hitting some loose wood or mold and knocking it off.
So, the moral of this story is... Uh...
Oh, right... Railroad ties are not good targets, damn it!
-Xander
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Monday, August 24, 2009
Wait... Little sister?
Don't you love surprises? I usually don't. But I love this one to death!
My dad is a cool guy, considering he helped to make me and all. But he moved to Iowa while I was still gestating (aka, still a nasty looking fetus in my mother's womb.)
In Iowa, he met this girl named Andrea Summerfield, and ended up knocking her up too.
So, just a few months after I was born (Marh 12, 1993,) my little sister Serena Marie Summefield (Horton) was born (August 19, 1994.)
My mom and I drove a full 10 hours to Iowa, just so that at the age of 2, I could meet my dad. While we were there, I also met Rena for the first time.
Years pass without me even remembering. My dad moves back to Oklahoma, marries my mom, and adopts my cousin, now my littlest sister, Kaylynn Serenity Horton.
At the age 11, I found out that I had another sister besides Kaylynn. My reaction was 'Cool. Too bad I'll never meet her.'
Three years pass, and the subject is brought up again that I have a sister in Iowa. I find out she's looking for our dad, and he's looking for her.
They find eachother on some website and get to talking. Happy joyness all around. Especially when she and I start talking online and over the phone. A couple of years pass with us talking to eachother at least three times a day.
And finally, talk begins of her coming down to Oklahoma for the summer. YES!
She ends up being able to stay for a month, which is plenty of time for her and I to hang out. We're joined at the hip the whole time, sleeping on the same pallet in dad's room, going everywhere together. It's awesome.
I'll never forget the summer of 09, as long as I live. Hopefully, she'll be down again next year, to stay!
-Xander
My dad is a cool guy, considering he helped to make me and all. But he moved to Iowa while I was still gestating (aka, still a nasty looking fetus in my mother's womb.)
In Iowa, he met this girl named Andrea Summerfield, and ended up knocking her up too.
So, just a few months after I was born (Marh 12, 1993,) my little sister Serena Marie Summefield (Horton) was born (August 19, 1994.)
My mom and I drove a full 10 hours to Iowa, just so that at the age of 2, I could meet my dad. While we were there, I also met Rena for the first time.
Years pass without me even remembering. My dad moves back to Oklahoma, marries my mom, and adopts my cousin, now my littlest sister, Kaylynn Serenity Horton.
At the age 11, I found out that I had another sister besides Kaylynn. My reaction was 'Cool. Too bad I'll never meet her.'
Three years pass, and the subject is brought up again that I have a sister in Iowa. I find out she's looking for our dad, and he's looking for her.
They find eachother on some website and get to talking. Happy joyness all around. Especially when she and I start talking online and over the phone. A couple of years pass with us talking to eachother at least three times a day.
And finally, talk begins of her coming down to Oklahoma for the summer. YES!
She ends up being able to stay for a month, which is plenty of time for her and I to hang out. We're joined at the hip the whole time, sleeping on the same pallet in dad's room, going everywhere together. It's awesome.
I'll never forget the summer of 09, as long as I live. Hopefully, she'll be down again next year, to stay!
-Xander
Why I don't go to school.
All right, here we go. I'm sixteen, so I'm old enough to have dropped out of highschool. But, I've been out of school for nearing three years now. That means, I dropped out of school at the age 14. Illegal? In Oklahoma, yes.
But I didn't exactly drop out so to speak.
In my first year of sixth grade, I got held back, so I was approximately a year older than the rest of my classmates. My second year of sixth grade and my seventh grade year went by without too much trouble.
Eighth grade was different. I was a loner for most of my school life anyways, and in eighth, I stopped sitting with a couple of fellow band geeks that called me friend and started sitting by myself... Or as close to that as you could come in a Juniorhigh/highschool cafeteria. I sat two seats down from a group of girls, and two seats down from whatever random kid decided to sit that close. I always made sure there were at least two seats between me and them.
So, I was reading one day in the cafeteria, like I did after lunch every day. One of the girls was making annoying yelping and hooting sounds.
So of course, I asked her, "What the hell are you doing?"
To which she replied, "I can't remember how I laugh, and I was trying to find it again."
And I said, "Wendy, I would rather have a bullet in my head than listen to you try to laugh."
They laughed, and one of the girls, Katie, made a joke.
"A blonde walks into her room and catches her boyfriend cheating on her. She takes out a gun and points it to her head, then said, 'Don't laugh. You're next.' And shot herself." Hahaha, very funny, very good.
Well, the rest of the week passed without incident. Then, one day I got a call into the principal's office. I won't go into the details of that, but it ended with me being accused of making a terroristic threat of bringing a gun to school.
I called my mom, and went home. We passed a few days without talking to the school, and when my mom went unenroll me, we found out, I would have been kicked out anyways. Just fucking great.
So, for the past two years, I've whittled away my life on the computer, usually by myself. Yay.
-Xander
But I didn't exactly drop out so to speak.
In my first year of sixth grade, I got held back, so I was approximately a year older than the rest of my classmates. My second year of sixth grade and my seventh grade year went by without too much trouble.
Eighth grade was different. I was a loner for most of my school life anyways, and in eighth, I stopped sitting with a couple of fellow band geeks that called me friend and started sitting by myself... Or as close to that as you could come in a Juniorhigh/highschool cafeteria. I sat two seats down from a group of girls, and two seats down from whatever random kid decided to sit that close. I always made sure there were at least two seats between me and them.
So, I was reading one day in the cafeteria, like I did after lunch every day. One of the girls was making annoying yelping and hooting sounds.
So of course, I asked her, "What the hell are you doing?"
To which she replied, "I can't remember how I laugh, and I was trying to find it again."
And I said, "Wendy, I would rather have a bullet in my head than listen to you try to laugh."
They laughed, and one of the girls, Katie, made a joke.
"A blonde walks into her room and catches her boyfriend cheating on her. She takes out a gun and points it to her head, then said, 'Don't laugh. You're next.' And shot herself." Hahaha, very funny, very good.
Well, the rest of the week passed without incident. Then, one day I got a call into the principal's office. I won't go into the details of that, but it ended with me being accused of making a terroristic threat of bringing a gun to school.
I called my mom, and went home. We passed a few days without talking to the school, and when my mom went unenroll me, we found out, I would have been kicked out anyways. Just fucking great.
So, for the past two years, I've whittled away my life on the computer, usually by myself. Yay.
-Xander
Introduction
Yo. If you're reading this, I must be rich and famous now and you just wanted to see if I had a blog... Or, more likely, you stumbled across here by searching something stupid on the internet and I just happened to mention it in passing. Yeah, that's probably it.
My name's Alexander Joseph Horton. My friends and family call me Alex. You can call me whatever you want, since I can't hear you, but I prefer to go by Xander.
So, this is it. My first every blog entry. It's an introduction, so don't expect anything fancy.
I'm 16 years, 5 months, twelve days, twelve hours, and 52 minutes old. Yeah, I know, most people just say 16. I like to be exact.
I'm of average build, standing about 5'7, with brown hair, brown eyes, and swimmers' muscles.
I like any kind of music, really, and as for books, anything fiction will do. I'm into sci-fi and fantasy TV shows, and my h obbies are reading, gamin, writing, and playing D&D.
Hey, don't judge me. D&D is fun. If you're one of the extreme Christians who gives up everything they love for the Lord, I suggest leaving right now. Otherwise, feel welcome to stay and read on.
That's all for this blog, but I'll post another one later. Maybe.
-Xander
My name's Alexander Joseph Horton. My friends and family call me Alex. You can call me whatever you want, since I can't hear you, but I prefer to go by Xander.
So, this is it. My first every blog entry. It's an introduction, so don't expect anything fancy.
I'm 16 years, 5 months, twelve days, twelve hours, and 52 minutes old. Yeah, I know, most people just say 16. I like to be exact.
I'm of average build, standing about 5'7, with brown hair, brown eyes, and swimmers' muscles.
I like any kind of music, really, and as for books, anything fiction will do. I'm into sci-fi and fantasy TV shows, and my h obbies are reading, gamin, writing, and playing D&D.
Hey, don't judge me. D&D is fun. If you're one of the extreme Christians who gives up everything they love for the Lord, I suggest leaving right now. Otherwise, feel welcome to stay and read on.
That's all for this blog, but I'll post another one later. Maybe.
-Xander
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)