Chronos and the Giant Oreo

You know, the times we had writing here were great. Why did we abandon them? :(

Because of that evil bitch called WRITER'S BLOCK.

And the Procrastinator 3000. Of course. Everything else but ourselves are to blame. ./cough

I'd like to begin writing regularly again. It created a sense of constancy in our lives (now-IB-invaded), you know?

AND WTF BLOGGER YOUR NEW LAYOUT CONFUSES MEH.

I go play around with themes now.

P.S. FUCK I GET IT THESE CHARACTERS AREN'T ALLOWED IN A POST LABEL. T_T
...

AN APOSTROPHE DOESN'T EQUATE TO " & # 3 9 ; " YOU DOUCHE BAGS.

Chronos now presents the first tagless post ever. :\

So.

I think we have rather deftly established that Chronos and I are horrible people. Two-odd months without a single peep from either kid--you'd be forgiven for thinking we'd died and gone to heaven hell heaven. Well, forgiven by Chronos, at least. (Although this may have something to do with the fact that she has all but forgotten FG's existence over the course of the aforesaid two-odd months.) But me, on the other hand... well, I'm here and I'm mad and I'm typing and it's precisely 1:01 in the morning and this is going to fucking hurt.

Because I miss FG. I know nobody ever read us consistently at all, but I miss splashing around in a textual back-and-forth between Miss Chronos and myself. We had wonderful fun for the six or so months that FerretGun ran on time and then we had wonderful fun for the following two months that FerretGun sort of stumbled along and then the last two months were just plain horrible, horrible, horrible. There was hardly any time left between school assignments to take a poke at posting and what little time we actually found was mostly eaten up by feeling guilty for not having enough motivation to pick up the guts to take a poke at posting again. I do believe the term is "vicious circle". No matter how you look at it, FG simply fell by the wayside as we tried our very best to keep our heads above water.

But I think... I think we have a handle on things now. As much of a handle as we can ever have, anyway. Will our interaction with the calm, bullshit-riddled fields of FerretGun increase as a result of this? I don't know. I hope it will, but I don't know.

I would finish ranting, but there's nobody left to care, and I have a sneaking sinking feeling that there never was anybody who cared in the first place.

I would apologize, but there's nobody left to apologize to, and I have a sneaking sinking feeling that there never was anybody in the first place.

... oh, oh, isn't self-pity such a marvellous thing?

sarcasm sarcasm sarcasm

~Mnem

Q: Mommy, are we dead yet? A: Almost, sweetie, almost.

I must say, my favourite lines from Shakespeare's much-parodied loved play Romeo and Juliet has got to be these:

JULIET
Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night
And pay no worship to the garish sun.

Alternative meanings aside, this is--in my humble opinion--one of the most goldarn adorable statements of the entire play...

... unless you're Mad, of course.

'Nuff said.

~Mnem

PS. Why have we not been posting like the pencil-adduced thesaurus-sniffing run-on-sentence-abusing hyphenated coffeemeisters like we are (or used to be)? Quite frankly, my dear, we don't have enough bloody time left for FerretGun in between the demands made by school and homework and more homework and preventing mutual friends from committing suicide by bagel and yet more homework and, y'know, the little expendable things on the side like sleep (such a luxury now) and food (om nom nom). We're sorry. It sounds insincere but we are. And what we are is tired sorry and redundant. Uhh... yeah.

LOOK, A PENGUIN. -books it the hell out of there-

Cardiopulmonary resuscitation parking ticket citation Waziristan teacup fruitloop Batcake tango tango Oscar bloom.

Continuing on my trend of posting unnecessarily short updates at obscene hours of the night, have a hello.

Hello: ...
Hello: -runs away-

Well damn.

~Mnem

Long-awaited update of the frankly overused "look Ma, still breathing!" flavour

Well.

It seems Chronos has a knack for precognition that she has failed to tell me about.

Y'see, when she appended a disclaimer to the statement that "the incessant ramblings of people when they are thinking sanely [...] will come to an end in Ferret Gun", she was referencing a frame of life far beyond that which mere mortals can contemplate. Damn girl was seeing into the damn future and she damn well didn't know it at the time (what? I'm overusing the word "damn"? DAMN DAMN DAMN DAMN I can't hear you). Sure she thought she was talking about Ink Ninjas, but it turned out to be far truer than either of us could imagine. And of course it is I who brings yon splendid bit of irony to the notice of the largely unruffled world, though this should by all rights be her post. Meh. That's Chronos for you.

So yeah, 's all I have to say for now. Consider this your standard low-grade hark-the-guilty-conscience-speaks "We're not dead yet" post. Unfortunately, if unspeakable horrors things continue to swamp us unforgivingly as they have since we returned to school eleventy centuries ago, we will effectively remain in this "not dead yet" state until the next long weekend--Chinese New Year, baby!--or, you know, until one of us notices the blog languishing in its seventeen-foot drifts of dust and goads the other into a nice clean rant yet again. Mm. That too.

I'm sorry, it's 10:57 at night and I've been slaving away on a Biology lab report since seven. Everything looks like aortas now. @_@

~Mnem

And the incessant ramblings of people when they are thinking sanely...

-- will come to an end in Ferret Gun.

No, we aren't going to stop posting, if that is what you are thinking. No, rather, we are expanding.
Perhaps this will explain it very clearly to you:

Damn straight. Except swords can actually, you know, kill you. (No, please do not dredge up the "guns don't kill people, people kill people" argument - swords have the potential to kill is what I'm saying, although it'd be damn freaky as well as maybe the end of the world if they started hovering around and stabbing people in the gut in a 1-2-3 fashion that would be similar to seppuku or harakiri, etc etc yadda yadda).

Hm, reminds me of a saying. "Sticks and stones can break my bones, but words can never hurt me." What do you think, actually? Comment if you have an opinion about these two sayings.

"Sticks and stones can break my bones, but words can never hurt me" vs. "The pen is mightier than the sword"

Of course, if we think about this relatively, I don't think sticks and stones can compare to a sword. ... well, the similarity is that if you're whacked by any of them, it hurts. It HURTS, dammit.

./looks at the picture again
Not that I would rather be stabbed by a ninja wielding a giant pen. Nope. Ninja ink'd be pretty neat though.
... the unfortunate medical examiner who'd have to examine my body will probably think I was murdered by a squid waving a machete around. How graceless.

Yes, breaking away from that tangent...

Mnem has established a new site which will be known as The Ink Ninjas (click click click!). As aforementioned, we will not be abandoning Ferret Gun, we are just sorting and stuffing things in places. Think of Ferret Gun as a sock drawer getting too full because we crammed it full of socks. Now think of the Ink Ninjas as another sock drawer, empty and unused. We are moving all the striped socks into the Ink Ninjas drawer. Yes? :D

The Ink Ninjas will be home to writing, writing, rants, the occasional word vomit, but mostly? Writing. They can be independent stories, one-shots, chapters of a story you're working on...

The only comments we'll allow for are those pertaining to constructive criticism or positive feedback.
... flames will only burn.

We'll kick your ass if you flame.

Seriously.

It's not nice.

And I don't know why I'm spacing everything out.

But whatever.

Main point? Don't freaking flame. Seriously. Doesn't make anyone happy.

Time to race over now! :D

If you haven't clicked on the link, CLICK ON IT NOW, DAMMIT.

SOCKS SOCKS SOCKS SOCKS SOCKS SOCKS SOCKS!

-Chronos

Huhwaitwhat? Vol V: Instant Messenger Of Doom - November edition

Yeah, we've hit the doldrums again.

Huhwaitwhat? Vol IV: Instant Messenger of Doom - September edition

Because we suck at keeping promises.

2011, fk yeah.

Technically this should be Chronos' post (lucky fish beat me to that fateful midnight by an hour due to good location planning) but seeing as I'm the one who's still online, ze honour of zis post is mine all mine, mwahahaha.

Jus' kidding--this is for her too. For everybody. Happy New Year's, world!

(click for big.

warning: big is big.)

PS. New year, new drawing style? :P

I kid, I kid, but I like this way too. It's how I draw when I'm under pressure.

Post binge is binge-y.

A quote from a veeeeery long time ago that I had forgotten deliberately neglected to put up.

(after being exposed to some country music)
Polyhymnia: That sounded like Daughtry.
Lethe: Eh, I don't really like him that much.
Polyhymnia: Why?
Lethe: I dunno. I just don't.
Polyhymnia: ...is it because he's bald?

I miss P. :(

~Mnem