Watching the Wonderful World of Kawak

No Longer Watching...

2004-05-23T13:35:07Z

I'm afraid to say that from today you're going to have to go elsewhere for your Wonderful World of Kenny updates as I have had to reluctantly step back from this position. Like Sonia Ghandi before me in the week, I realise that it is not in the best interest of myself, my people or indeed India.

But fear not because I will continue to abuse LiveJournal and in fact have created another account purely for that purpose. If you're feeling saucy please head over to crapcomics. He's really, really, really funny. And me.

anime.au Run Down

2004-04-04T15:45:50Z

I realise this is out of order but screw you (hmm... I think I'm the only person reading this... that really hurts my feelings, Mike. You jerk).

I had planned to go to bed at a reasonable hour (I think around 10:00 pm) or something on Friday night but it didn't end up happeing. I can't quite recall now why that was. I do remember that at about 12 or something I decided that we needed to have a soccer poster to advertise the upcoming soccer league that's being organised between the various university anime clubs at Sydney. Here's the link to it if you feel like checking it out http://www.suanime.org/tmp/poster-soccerleague-sm.jpg (if you're looking at this link after I've taken the image down I apologise).

So anyway, the point was that I didn't get to sleep until about 1 or so which was great because it meant that I had only about 3 hours sleep. I was surprised that I woke up at all when rozen came into my room at all. Normally I need about 4 hours sleep minimum otherwise I just don't get up but something must have got me moving. We got up and hit the road in pretty good time and drove to Maroubra to meet up with Kenny. From there we took off heading south towards the M5. After stopping for some petrol we put on a Triple J Hottest 100 CD that had Blur's "Song 2" on it. When it came on I floored it and we zoomed off only to see a speed camera moments before passing it. I think it got me at about 80. I'm not sure how much that was but I really reckon I should be able to say that that song came on and be able to get out of it. Or at least just get slapped on the hand. I suppose I've sped plenty of other times before and haven't been caught so I shouldn't really complain.

Apart from that the drive down was pretty cool. It was funny to fly past kawak's car at what he thought was about 160 km/h (when we really just pushing 110). We got to Canberra without any other mishaps and found ANU pretty quickly. I have newfound sympathy for my cousins that work and study there. I had imagined it as some type of utopic scholary existence. Instead it was kind of like a desert. Well, minus the sand dunes and the with a few more student action posters.

After setting everything up the convention began in earnest and I began asleep. Well not quite asleep but ready to go to sleep. That was pretty much me for a lot of the con. I didn't get around too much. Mostly I just sat selling t-shirts to people from the convention. I'm not sure how many realised that the t-shirts I was selling were for an obscure anime club from Sydney but they seemed to buy them anyway. We had people from as far away as Melbourne picking some up some. I guess that means the shirt has wide appeal.

The drive back was pretty good as well. We swapped thenealzone for missdeep. She and I talked pretty much all the way back which made the trip a little easier, especially since toward the end it felt like I was going to collapse. Somehow managed the energy to get Annie back home as well. Caught a snippet of conversation between Annie and Dave that was sweet. Made the whole trip worthwhile.

I hope I don't fail all my subjects. Must do more work. Tomorrow.

The Chris Experience

2004-04-04T15:15:32Z

I just found out from Dave that the guy with my favourite nick in the WHOLE WORLD has changed his nick. I felt that this was worthy of note in my LJ. I hope that you all stop for a moment to remember the passing of what is, was, and always will be a fantabulous nick.

Neal complained on the way down to Canberra that I've stopped updating my LJ and that he wants to know what happens in the story so can I please go back to writing in it. Well, the answer is yes, Neal. I can write again in LJ but I'm not going to update the story any more. I read it again with Rui a few days ago and realised it was pretty lame. Instead I'm going to go back to what this journal was always about: Kenny.

kawak has updated his journal again for all keeping tabs. That's not me, ironically. I had to be told by rozen that he had updated it before I came on LJ. I don't know what it is but something about LJ just doesn't really work for me. Journals don't really work for me. I'm too busy getting out there and doing stuff than sitting around writing about it. And frankly most of the people on my friends list have really boring updates. Yeah, that's probably going to update a whole bunch of people but I don't care. I'll probably read about it all in all your LJ entries and it'll at least liven it up a little.

I mean where' the backstabbing and gossip? The juciest thing I've read here is about someone's car. And that wasn't very juicy. It was like overdone steak. It had the promise of being juicy but instead forgetfulness and something interesting on TV has distracted the person in question from actually contributing anything of note to society.

Oh, and I hate the new Google interface. Sure, I hardly ever used the directory but I used Froogle even less. And who didn't know it existed? I mean, am I the only person who regularly checks the Google Labs page? ... Like I said, I'm far too busy doing interesting things with my life to write in consistent LJ entries. Anyway -- where was I? Oh yeah, the interface. If it can even be called that. I mean, what if I want to see the categories that a certain web site is stored under? Can I do that any more? No, I cannot. And it's been removed for no good reason! Oh sure, the eggheads at Google will most likely claim it was removed because the directory is becoming increasingly out of date but so? So are FCUK shirts but you don't see a decrease in people wearing them, now, do you?

In other news, I really want an FCUK shirt.

Kenny Update No. 4

2004-03-12T16:11:08Z

I've been a bit lax with my Kenny updates but I'll try to make up for that. Today was Kenny's birthday so "Happy Birthday Kenny!" I didn't forget to get you a present it's just that I haven't got it yet. I'm waiting to sought out my pay with KK because something screwed up somewhere along the line. I'm sure I should have got more money than that. But enough about me, we were looking at Kenny. He was looking pretty cool with his hair combed and a dark shirt. He looked in a good mood and we made crepes! (Again!) Kenny's biology friends were also there in case anyone is writing a list of Kenny's friends.

"Fancy that" is a phrase that should be used more

2004-03-12T15:58:21Z

I was reunited with Fabio but when a plane is hurtling toward its (and your) doom, this is small consolation. What do you need to do in this situation? My inclination is to say "strut" but really what needs to be done is to fly the plane. And if film and television have taught me anything it's that while pilots might need to go to flying school for 7 years or more before they can become a professional pilot any half-assed action hero can master the controls in about 30 seconds. And while I might not have been a half-assed action hero I had a guy with a face and an acting range that said he should be...

I pushed away from the big hulk.

"Fabio! The plane is about to crash."

"I know that little one. You should save yourself."

"But I can't, Fabio. I can't just jump out of this plane and save myself when you and all the people who haven't been sucked out the side are still here. I must remain."

"Very well, little one, if that is your wish then so be it. But let us sojourn to the cockpit where I am hoping that the action might, how do you say, heat up?"

This was the first time Fabio had spoken to me in French but I must admit, it was certainly something to hear the language of love come from lips so sweet. Still, Fabio, ever the man of action bounded down the aisle back toward the cockpit as I traipsed after him. Things hadn't got much better in the cockpit either, I can tell you that much. The ground was still rushing up to meet us and there didn't look like anything could be done to save the day at all.

But I hadn't reckoned with the awesome power of love.

And more importantly, brute strength. Gripping the yoke of the plane with more force than I could have ever dreamt of, Fabio proceeded to right the plane even as time ran perilously close to running out. Like sands through the hour glass, the seconds just ticked away as ever so slowly I felt the plane start to come back around to where it was supposed to be.

"It's working! It's working!" I called out loudly.

Fabio didn't reply. Clearly the effort was taking all of his physical strength and he had a look on his face that could only be described as "determined". Determined to do what, I wasn't privy to.Perhaps to right the wrongs of the world. Perhaps just to survive and live another day as the most beautiful man in the cosmos. Perhaps to claim that free 10th coffee from Gloria Jeans. As I said, it was a thought process out of limits to me and one that I wouldn't have had the nerve to disturb had I the chance anyway.

All this thinking had taken me a lot of time and in the mean time Fabio had more than got the plan back to be horizontal and in fact was making a beeline for that water thing outside the front of the Washington Monument that Forrest Gump ran through it to hug his girlfriend.

"Fabio, you can't land there! It's barely 500 metres long!"

With a flick of his blond locks he turned to me and smiled a perfect toothy grin. "Worry not, little one. I don't understand metric."

As I stood trying to understand how that was going to help us Fabio went on with the arguably more difficult task of actually landing a plane in a small volume of water. Suffice to say that while I provided no "physical action" that could be deemed "help" I was more than making it up with the power of prayer. And while history, and that little black box, might record Fabio being the one that single-handedly saved the day I think this diary records the events in the light that they should be remembered in. I mean of course it required some skill to stop a Boeing 747 jumbo in 500 metres of water but being able to pray to God is really cool too.

As I finished that thought Fabio looked at me with the satisfaction and relief that comes from a man that has completed a difficult task.

"I did it, little buddy," Fabio beamed. "I saved the passengers."

I reached up and put my hand on Fabio's shoulder. "No, man, we did it."

Real life interrupts this regular broadcast

2004-03-01T10:18:06Z

Geez, I don't mean to sound like just about everyone else on Live Journal complaining about how bad their otherwise pretty good existence is but sometimes you just see that big ol' bandwagon driving by and you think to yourself "You know, I must just get me there on that and see what it's like after all."

I realise my one sole problem in the entire world. I overestimate how much time I have. I think this is the cause of like 90% of all of my problems. The remaining 10% of problems are things that are much harder to change or entirely out of my hands. But the time management thing is the killer. I just had a fight with my parents (again) about why I'm too busy to pick up stuff from my house. Now why did they have a fight with me? Was it because they were sitting at home watching the news and then thought to themselves "Hmmm... let's fight with Mike!". No, of course not. The reason that they rang me up was that I told my sister that I'd be able to bring stuff back to Glebe if she picked me up tonight. Now why did I tell her this? I know that I don't have any time. Instead of telling her what I'd been telling myself which was that I had too much stuff on my plate at the moment I decided to take another serving.

I catch myself doing this all the time. The problem is that I almost always catch myself doing this after the fact which is of little or no use to anyone. I really have to learn to tell people: "I am too busy at the moment. Someone else will have to solve that particular problem." I was never very good at delegating tasks.

Well, I suppose this makes me come off as a bit like a wanker with a martyr complex. Oh well, I think that's probably a pretty good description of me.

You Can't Tell Me That Your Feet Ain't Movin'

2004-02-27T16:12:11Z

Learning that I could read minds was fun but how much fun is it when the mind you're reading is that of an Islamic terrorist?! Of course when you're trapped 40,000 feet (or however many feet up in the air planes fly) in the air you don't really have time to debate that kind of question. You've got to spring into action! What happened to me in this situation? Find out in this exciting instalment of "An Average Day in the Life of Mike!"

Perhaps you remember logdep? That feeling you get where fear goes beyond fear to become something indescribable. Well I describe it with the word logdep. Logdep was what you felt when with terrorists aboard you discover that there's no one in the pilot's seat. But that's OK. I'd played Chuck Yeager's Air Combat once. How hard was this going to be?

Throwing myself into the seat, I began running my hands over the controls. Not in a sensuous "hey baby, where have you been all my life" kind of way but in a "Gary Sinise in Apollo 13" kind of way. I raised my head briefly to see the ground rushing up to meet us. I'm a glass is half full kind of guy, so I looked at the bright side. At least I was in Washington. Of course it was only going to be a brief stopover unless I did something about this crashing plane.

Gripping the yoke in sweat drenched fingers, I pulled back on the mighty beast trying to bring her nose back up. I don't know if you've ever flown a plane before but it's actually quite tiring work. Imagine how hard it is to turn the steering wheel in your car if the tyres are stuck against something and then multiply it by like infinity and you'd be getting close to the amount of effort I was expending for no effect. I'm a rather lean guy, though, so that didn't mean that what I was trying to do was impossible. It just meant I needed help. And there was only one model/actor who could help me.

I leapt from the seat and ran back towards the passenger cabin. The place was in utter chaos. The terrorists were nowhere to be seen and indeed neither were most of the passengers. Air was still sucking (refer to previous post as to why this should be blowing and not sucking) out of the plane and it whistled around my ears as I used the backrests of the seats to steady myself. The steward shouted something supportive but I didn't really have time to pay him proper attention. I was looking for one man.

A growing sense of logdep began to fill the bowels of my stomach as I reached our seats. Fabio was nowhere to be found. Oh my god, I thought. Perhaps I had just stopped an attempted terrorist attack on the United States of America but at what cost? Could the ends justify the means? No, no they could not. At least not this end.

My heart caught in my throat. What kind of monster was I to deprive the world of Fabio? All I could think of were the last words I'd said to the great man. How pitiful the jealousy seemed now. How shameful. I felt like I was 3 feet tall. My head bowed. A bell tolled.

A bugle started playing the "Last Post".

Many things have shapes. At that moment I learnt that relief is the shape of a Fabio's hand. If I felt 3 foot a moment before that appendage on my shoulder brought me up to the level of the gods!

"Fabio!"

There was so much I wanted to say: Are you OK? What are we going to do? Why do you smell of perfume? But none of those things crossed my mind. Well, I mean they did of course. But it was really briefly and it was quickly replaced by the desire to hug the blond bimbo. We embraced.

I Wish I was Strongbad

2004-02-25T14:41:52Z

OK, well when I last left you I was trapped on a plane with terrorists. Suffice to say I'm still on that plane (and so are the terrorists). Now that Dave has taught me about Live Journal link cutting or whatever. He said that that what was what all the cool people on LJ were using these days and that I had to "get with the program" if I wanted to be cool too. I'm a nut for peer pressure so I collapsed under the weight of his taunts like a twig under... butter.

So picture this. There's a Boeing 747 direct to Washington. There's 20 terrorists EACH armed with an assortment of semi-automatic machine guns, uzis, AK-47s, rocket propelled grenade launchers and Giddeon versions of the Koran. Then there's Colonel Sanders with that goddamn gay necklace thing. Finally, there's me. Bulging muscles at the ready, sweat glistening on my skin armed only with my bare teeth.

Oh, and to top that off I'd just realised that I could read minds. Plus the bulging muscles. And killer abs.

The terrorists were arguing with each other. Not verbally but in Arabic. Thanks to my telepathy, though, I could understand what it was that they were saying. One of them was complaining that he always got stuck with the rocket propelled grenade launcher and how bloody useless it was on a plane. His comrade was telling him to be bloody grateful that he wasn't stuck with a bloody copy of the Koran. Someone else was asking if they could take off the tea towels off their heads. Someone else was pointing out they weren't tea towels and that joke wasn't very funny the first time it was made either and that Western societies wore a lot of stupid things on their heads. Like bunny ears.

I knew then that it was my moment to strike. Pushing Colonel Sanders out into the public eye to distract the terrorists I commando rolled down the aisle. I rolled up onto my knees, my bare teeth at the ready. Jabbing the lead terrorist in the stomach I reached out for his AK-47 as he doubled over. Leaping now to my feet I turned around spraying the plane with bullets.

It was at this point that I remembered that if you blow a hole in the side of a plane wall then the whole thing explodes like in Fight Club.

The terrorists were screaming rather rude things at me in Arabic now and the passengers on the plane didn't seem that happy that I'd saved them either. As the cabin rapidly depressurised and the hole in the side began to grow bigger people were getting sucked out of the plane (well, actually they were getting blown out since the difference in air pressure was actually forcing the air OUT of the plane but since no one ever cares about that and always says that something was sucked out I won't seek to correct that public misconception of the physics of pressurisation today). So yeah, people were getting sucked out and my rescue mission wasn't going so great.

"If only Bruce Willis were here! Or at least Steven Segal! Then we'd all be saved!" I thought to myself in desperation.

But this was no movie, this was real life. And in real life Bruce Willis doesn't exist and Steven Segal does but he lives it up on a nudist colony getting pinacoladas brought to him by naked women.

"OK, Mike. It's up to you," I thought. "This time you're not going to be able to rely on any interesting personality to just leap aboard and save you. You've got to be the one to do it." I gulped down a final breath of air as it rushed past and began stepping toward the cockpit. I could see a steward huddled against the side of the crew compartment. He was clinging to the wall as best he could as objects around him whistled by and out hte hole in the plane.

"We need to detach first class!"

"You fucking idiot! You blew a hole in the plane!" Obviously he was stressed to breaking point.

"Where's the button, steward?"

"You fuckwit! Now we're all going to die! I hope you rot in hell you fucking excuse for a fucking idiot!"

It was no time to lose my cool. I'd get time for that later. "Thanks," I called back. I mock saluted. "I'll check with the pilot."

Pushing past him (his leg must have been pulled by the rushing air because it suddenly stuck out and almost tripped me) I made my way toward where I knew the pilots would be. But when I opened the door I received a nasty shock. The pilots were nowhere to be seen. It was then that I felt a fear that I cannot describe to you. I can only call it a nonsensical word: logdep. Logdep gripped me in its chilly fingers and refused to let go. Winding its way around the very core of my being it felt as if it was trying to strangle me. Well, I wasn't going to let it. Not on my watch...

Only YOU Can Save America!

2004-02-24T08:23:36Z

After having managed to wrench Fabio away from the counterstaff and after a quick rush through customs I was finding my seat on the plane. The tickets Fabio had managed to obtain were first class and I was looking forward to being able to relax with a glass of champagne after what had been a pretty traumatic hour or so of my life. After all it's not everyday that you see your best friend ~~Logan~~ Captain Marvel killed by ninja assassins and you find out Batman impersonators are out to get you too. Still, I was never one to lose my head.

I reclined on the large leather seats of the Boeing 747 stretching out my legs as far as they would go. Fabio had left to chat up one of the air hostesses so I took the opportunity to fiddle around with his settings. Unfortunately while I had expected that you'd be able to fly the plane or something from first class it wasn't quite that impressive. In the end I resorted to just turning up the volume on his headphones to maximum.

Fabio still hadn't returned when the cabin crew began explaining what to do in the event of an emergency. I looked up and down the aisle ('corridor' would be a more appropriate descriptive noun) but couldn't see the actor/model anywhere. The steward had just launched into an explanation about how in the event of a crash the first class section would detach from the rest of the plane and engage it's retro boosters when suddenly Fabio appeared.

"Where the hell have you been?" I tried not to sound too interested.

"Sorry, partner. I was required in the restroom."

Something in the way he emphasised 'required' made me think perhaps there was a little more to this story than Fabio was letting on.

"What were you doing back there?"

"Oh, you know how it is: fans. They're everywhere. Now don't worry your pretty little head about it." He reached out a palm the size of a coffee table and ruffled my hair.

"Don't think you can just squirm your way out of it that easily," I persisted. "I know something was up back there and I want to know what it was."

"I'm telling you, it was nothing. Sometimes Fabio just has very enthusiastic fans that's all."

I narrowed my eyes. Something was definitely suspicious here. And it was clear there was only one way to find out what it was.

"I'm going back to have a look."

"Don't be ridiculous. There's nothing to see, it's just a restroom."

Spurred on by his protests I pushed past and strided toward the restroom. I was not more than 3 feet from its door when suddenly I was thrown to the floor. And I don't mean I was thrown to the floor in the way The Rock gets thrown to the floor in some WWE bout. There was no trampoline under here. I hit the deck like a sack of spuds and it knocked the wind out of me. I turned around to get a look at the assailant when I was dragged back behind a seat.

Crouched over me was a man who looked like he'd wandered in out of a bad Western. He had that stupid little necklace thing that all people from the Southern American states seem to have to wear by law on. You know what I mean. The gay thing with the goat skull and the black string hanging down. Because, I don't know, we can't have us blacks as slaves no more so we ain't going to wear a tie. Yeah, that showed us real good.

I was about to pull the strings attached to the skull when the man whispered to me in a thick Southern accent. To compare the man to Colonel Sanders would be too easy so instead I'll just refer to him as Colonel Sanders.

"Ssh, kid, don't get up. The name's Sanders. I'm an American air marshall and I'm sorry, son, but I ain't takin' no joy in telling you that this plane is swarming with A-rabs."

"What?" I breathed.

"Terroristas. Regular bona fide men from the caves of Afghanistan." He was the sort of man who pronounced 'fide', 'fie-dee' if that gives you some indication of just who it was I was dealing with.

"Holy shit."

"That and a bit more, I'd wager. Now, the way I sees it, there's you and there's me here on this plane. And it's going to be up to us to stop these guys before they carry out their diabolical schemes."

He seemed to have paused for dramatic effect. I didn't see a good reason to hurry him a long. His breath smelled like chicken.

"To free those damn negroes from the sugar planatation back home and to crash this here plane into that there White House. Now if America has any hope left in the wide world, it's me and you kid. Only YOU can save America!"

Kenny Update 3

2004-02-20T18:09:51Z

Just wanted to let you all know that Kenny wore the new AnimeUNSW t-shirt tonight. It looked pretty cool. He also came over to Space Mountain and hung around here a bit talking before he went home.

maikero @ 2004-02-21T04:53:00

2004-02-20T17:53:10Z

"Can I help you Mr Fabio?" The counter lady basically threw himself at the man. Oh how I both despised and felt strangely attracted to him at that moment.

"Just Fabio,"

She basically melted. I had to peer over the edge of the counter just to see what was left of her self esteem.

"Oooh..."

"My friend here needs to get to Washington DC. Stat." The way Fabio said it... well, it sounds stupid now but at the time you believed he was a doctor.

The counter lady didn't so much respond with words as her she seemed to fall over the counter top. But she didn't really. Moreso her hand appeared from beneath the desk and it was holding an airline ticket. I swiped the ticket before she could hand it to Fabio. I intentionally held back a "thank you". She didn't look like she noticed the omission but there was a flicker in her eyes and I knew she'd noticed. Other people would have called it a blink but I was adept at the subtleties of women.

I cleared my throat. Repeatedly.

"Fabio, can we like, get to the flight? It leaves in," I glanced down at the ticket, "3 minutes."

"Of course, little friend." It was clear Fabio was going to hang around as long as he could milk this. Grabbing his hand I started dragging him towards customs. It was like trying to move a two tonne truck of gut-wrenching beauty. My entire body strained in an attempt to shift the giant.

"Fabio, please."

"Perhaps we can continue this another time?"

The woman at the counter just looked at him like a puppy looks at its 6 year old master from the porch of a neighbour's house as that 6 year old kid is taken on some holiday he never wanted to go on anyway and really all he wanted to do was just hang around with his favourite dog who died in a tragic car accident while he was away and he's never going to forgive his parents about that ever.

Check One, Two, Check, One Two...

2004-02-19T22:00:05Z

Just updating you peeps on the Kawak situation (the original reason this LJ was created). He added me to his friends list today.

No other news to report.

Word out.

This is not a song lyric

2004-02-19T14:02:23Z

Immediately my mind leapt to the obvious conclusion.

Killer robots from Mars were impersonating Batman and trying to kill me.

But no, that couldn't be right. Why would killer robots want to kill me? There had to be another explanation. And there was only place I was going to find that sort of explanation.

The White House.

The car sped along the road, its tyres hugging the corners as I threw it into fouth and headed toward the airport. Leaving the car outside the departure terminal I raced through the doors and to the information counter. A dour woman with an even more dour expression was standing there. Her hands rested atop one another and her back was so straight it looked like she was wearing a steel rod inside the form fitting navy blue flight attendant uniform. Gold wings shone on her lapel and she greeted me with a toothpaste commercial smile.

"One to the White House, lady." I put on the best 'Don't Mess With Me' expression I could muster.

Clearly it wasn't enough. "I'm sorry, sir, but all our flights to Washington are booked for the next two weeks."

"Listen, I'm sure you get this all the time but the whole future of the human race depends on me getting on that plane." I did away with the tough guy routine and instead tried desperation.

The woman was good. She wasn't budging. "I'm sorry, sir, but there's absolutely nothing I can do about that. There just aren't any tickets available to that city at the present moment in time."

"Wait!" A powerful masculine voice cried out.

"Fabio!" I shouted. "The most beautiful man in the cosmos! What are you doing here?"

"'Allo little buddy. I am here to help you." Striding down the passenger terminal was a man, his white shirt open exposing a heavily muscled chest and abdomen. The cuffs on the shirt were open and were being caught in the slight breeze created by the model's swift striding pace. Beneath that were the tightest black leather pants that I'd ever seen. And I mean they were tight. It looked as if were Fabio to bend over not only would he rip a hole in a nice pair of trousers but the very fabric of space and time were likely to be irrevocably torn to pieces.

I was going to compliment Fabio and his well chiselled chin but instead I just said something lame. "Geez, that's fortunate."

"Being in the same room as Fabio makes one fortunate little friend. Now what seems to be the problem? Perhaps this is something that could use my assistance."

While there was nothing sexual in that sentence the man oozed charisma and I felt like swooning...

Who the Fuck is Captain Marvel?

2004-02-18T16:06:38Z

In response to a number of queries I've received about the coolest and most popular superhero ever I have hear a picture of your friend and mine (although more mine than yours) Captain Marvel. Feast your eyes ladies.

Back to the story...

"Captain Marvel!" I cried out as his bright red lycra costume was lost beneath the onslaught of unstoppable ninja hordes.

Captain Marvel was no more.

Suddenly the ninjas turned on me! Of course I was somewhat protected by Captain Marvel's Porshe 911 Boxster. I don't think I mentioned this either but when I got inside it did that thing like in the first Batman movie where the car put up all those security shields and stuff so that it couldn't be attacked. Well it was like that except there was a little monitor on the dashboard so that you could see what was happening outside the car. That's how I could see Captain Marvel disappear heroically.

Realising there was only way out of this mess I floored it. Well I mean firstly I turned the ignition of the car on but once that had started up, I'd released the handbrake, put it into first, checked to make sure no cars were coming, turned my indicator on and gotten ready to pull out safely from the kerb I floored it! The engine roared to life as the accelator was pressed firmly to the all leather interior.

The sports car jerked around a bit as it drove over what I assume were bodies of ninjas and there were dull thuds on the roof and windshield as more must have bounced off. I spun the wheel as hard as I could to rip the car around the corner and zoom away down the street leaving dozens of ninjas unsuccessful in their attempt to kill me.

As the car drove on I glanced a little more around the interior of the vehicle. What had not more than a few minutes ago been a perfect example of Porsche's workmanship was now a torn up mess. Ninja throwing stars, knives and blood sullied the area around me. Suddenly one of the throwing stars caught my eye. Keeping one eye on the road I bent down and picked up a star - no, not a star. A bat....

Contract Problems

2004-02-18T15:42:47Z

A lot of people have indicated to me that they would prefer more Wolverine in this LiveJournal. To those people I only have this message: go fuck yourselves. This is maikero's journal OK. Not Wolverine's. This is a journal about my life. If Wolverine happened to share some of that enviable limelight then so be it. I can't control the winds of fate and destiny. So due to contractual issues Wolverine will no longer be appearing in Mike's LJ. Instead, we've recruited a comic book character that's just as cool - Captain Marvel! Woo! How about that kids? Hasn't everyone missed Captain Marvel? Well you'll be seeing a lot more of him in upcoming posts as I recount my Day with ~~Wolverine~~ Captain Marvel.

GameCube on Ebay for $129

2004-02-18T15:06:50Z

Wolverine threw the keys for his car high into the air before they landed with a "plop" in my oustretched palm.

"You want me to drive?"

"I think it's time, Mike. I can't be driving you everywhere in my sleek, sleek vehicle."

I stopped for a moment and cast my mind back to the earlier events of 3 minutes ago. It felt like it had been more like 5 minutes or something. An amazing transformation had occurred in that room. I felt as if not only had I been handed the keys to an expensive sports car but I'd been handed the keys to the sports car of life. And for all of this I had Wolverine to thank.

I opened my mouth to try to express something of the gratitude of which I felt when all the wind was knocked out of me. I didn't see what it was but immediately Wolverine sprung into action. Adamantium claws sprung from the back of his hands and there was a fearsome roar, more machine than man. An awesome killing machine.

"Watch out Logan!" I heard myself cry. "They're ninjas!"

The ninjas were no match for Wolverine. But still they kept on coming. I should have explained this earlier but my house overlooks a street which was where Wolverine's car was parked. The street has a number of shops lining it, terrace houses with commercial ground floors and then residential abodes on the level above.

The ninjas were flowing like liquid martial arts masters from the peaked rooves of these terrace houses. Waves of black rained down on Wolverine as he struggled to keep them at bay with his claws.

"Get in the car, Mike! They're after you!"

"But Logan!"

"There's no time! I must sacrifice myself so that you may live! Here, just take this golden locket! Give it to Jean. Tell her, I don't know. Tell her something. Tell her I'm sorry."

Before I could stop to ask more he yanked open the door of the Porsche, threw me in and slammed it behind me. Outside ninjas continued to fly from above. I could see Wolverine moving away from the car. Running as best he could. Already his body was littered with scars and scratches but almost as quickly as a mark was made his skin repaired itself.

"Cool," I said before I realised I was in a life or death situation. What's more, something told me that this was not going to be the end of the excitement for me today. There were many roads for me to travel yet. And all of them dangerous!

Driving Around in Wolverin's Porsche 911 Boxster

2004-02-18T14:14:22Z

The shrill tones of the telephone echoed around the cool walls of my room. Thoughts raced through my mind. Who could that be? Why would someone call me? How did a phone get in my room? Realising that just standing there wasn't going to bring any kind of insight I reached for the receiver but Wolverine's hand sprung out like a steel trap and latched onto my wrist.

"Ow, Logan. You're hurting me."

"No, Mike. Don't pick it up. I smell trouble." For added effect Wolverine wrinkled his nose.

"Do you think a bomb is connected to my telephone?" I asked with a slight trepidation that no thought of Chuck Norris could clear from my voice.

"Yes."

My eyes widened. "But Logan... who would want to kill me? I mean, I'm nobody. I'm just a university student. I'm not anyone important. I'm no threat to anyone at all."

"Michael, Professor X didn't want me to tell you this until you were ready but there's no time now. Quick, you must come with me in my Porsche 911 Boxster."

I locked onto Logan's gaze. His cool grey eyes bore no emotion save one: fear. I had never known Logan to feel any sort of fear at all. It was normally as if he were immune to the feeling. As alien to him as the touch of a woman was to me (at the time). I realised that deep within that big ol' Canadian heart of his was a concern for me that I had never properly understood until now. It was kind of like how I was worried about missing MacGuyver each week. Like that but a million times stronger.

Suddenly the fear I felt began to melt away and I felt a calmness descending upon me.

"I am ready."

Wolverine immediately bent down a little and took my hand in his. "If you wanted to..."

"No. This is what I have to do Logan. It is my destiny."

Logan could see it was clear. There were no words that could dissuade me.

"Let's hit the road," he said with just a hint more gruffness than was his custom. Clearly he was acting. He didn't want me to know he was still afraid. But paradoxically it was knowing that that gave me strength. Because one of us had to be strong. And if it wasn't going to be Wolverine then it was going to have to be me. I would have to lead the X-Men.

Forget to Have a Subject

2004-02-18T13:56:17Z

Hmmm... this is really easy...

Well let's talk about what happened to me today. And by talk I mean you listen while I type.

Today I woke up at about 8:00. This meant that my clock radio had been blaring away for about an hour. Since neither David or Terence had come running to my door I assume that this was because neither of them could hear it. I certainly hope so as I hate to think that I'd woken them up or something. I awoke at around 8 because my phone was ringing. At the time I was having this strange dream which now flitters along the edge of my memory at this point and can no longer be recalled. The call interrupted my slumber. It was my mother whose sole purpose often seems to be to interrupt my slumber. She informed me that the desk that I had been arguing about with my father last night would be delivered late this evening.

Geez... narrating this story is boring me.

Here's what I imagined happened to me today.

It was pitch black. I opened my eyes but nothing changed. The same enveloping darkness pushed in around me. I tried to scream but to no avail. As my mouth contorted itself in an attempt to make even the barest hint of noise the blackness rushed down my throat, suffocating me. Unable to breathe I collapsed to the floor. As all seemed lost, literally in my darkest hour, Wolverine smashed through the door into my room, his adamantium claws glinting in the early morning twilight. I don't know quite how I knew it was him, the oppresive darkness remained but somehow I knew.

"Logan!" I cried out.

"Mike! My coolest buddy! (So much cooler than Gambit.)" Wolverine held me to him in a manly, and strictly platonic, hug. Buried in his hairy chest I could feel my vision returning. As I pulled back and looked into his eyes I opened my eyes as if that was all I had to do to eliminate the darkness.

"I'm alive, Logan."

"Yes, buddy Mike. Yes, you are. But it was a close call."

It was then that the phone rang...

maikero @ 2004-02-19T00:40:00

2004-02-18T13:40:53Z

I would like to begin my LiveJournal journey with a poem:

This is my place,
A space
For watching a particular race,
The kind that wears lace,
And has world renowned taste,
This is my place.

This is indeed my place. From this vantage point, the Internet, I shall observe Kenny. A man who should need no introduction. Should, that is, if the world were a happier place. Alas it is not and instead of us knowing the joy of knowing Kenny, most of us languish in the pain of not knowing Kenny. A pain that I think divides humanity and is what I believe the Great Buddha referred to as "The Emptiness of the Soul". An emptiness I'm sure Buddha himself would have felt, existing as he did thousands of years before Kenny was even born. Of course, once he realised that he was indeed Kenny, and that in fact we all have a little bit of Kenny in all of us, it was not longer before Nirvana was reached, a grunge band was given a name and the rest, as they say, is history.

Of course, having said all of that this is also my Live Journal. Which is to say that it's not my Dead Journal although the thought of creating a Dead Journal is also appealing. As such this shall also be a space I use to spread my thoughts and feelings, not about Kenny entirely but about the world at large, to the universe that exists outside my very window. I have come of course, to the first of my many, many complaints that I am sure I will no doubt make about Live Journal. I note that LJ has the ability to list the music I'm listening to currently. But what if I'm listening to more than one song, LJ? Hmmm? What then?