Snypiuer

Somewhere in the Keep of the Pen is Mightier than the Sword, Snypiuer is sweeping a long unused hallway when a shaft of light shines through a window and across his path, as if a cloud that had been hiding the sun had been, suddenly, whisked away. Intrigued, he takes a closer look and realizes that the light appears brighter, clearer . . . crisper than any light has the right to be - so much so, even the dust motes seemed fascinated by it, dancing around it, scrutinizing it from every angle and when finally brave enough to venture into it, sparkled with a mystical inner light as they hectically . . . joyfully, spun within its domain. It was at that moment, as Snypiuer marveled at the sight before him, the faintest, almost too distant sound caught his attention. He tilted his head a bit, "Curious" he thought. He could swear it was the sound of crystal chimes on the gentlest of breezes. The air around Snypiuer crackled with a brilliant energy as he sent out a small blessing of good will to the cosmos when he realized the significance of what he was witnessing. He then continued on with his sweeping, softly humming as a smile began to play upon his lips and he giggled, wondering to himself where and what, exactly, the miracle was that just happened. ********* HARMONY! MUSE! AAAHHHHH! life is good again. It's ALWAYS wonderful to see you stop by.

I found this article and wanted to share for Memorial Day. (Not sure who wrote the first part, before the article itself): Dogs have served in every major American conflict, all the way back to the Revolutionary War. If a dog of war is lost in combat, he or she is honored by the entire unit. Their bowl is symbolically placed upside down and a poem called Guardians of the Night is read in their honor. Guardians of the Night MAY 29, 2016 BY HARTELL WITH COMMENTS OFFON GUARDIANS OF THE NIGHT Memorial Day, or Decoration Day as it is sometimes called, is a federal holiday set aside to celebrate and honor United States men and women who have died serving their country in the military. Memorial Day originally began to honor and celebrate Union Soldiers who died during the American Civil War. It is customary to fly the U.S flag at half-mast from sunrise until midday, with many people visiting memorials and cemeteries to honor military people who lost their lives for their country, and remembering their loved ones who have passed on. On Memorial Day it is appropriate to also pay tribute to our working military dogs who are loyal, heroic, save many lives and help many troops who just need a friendly touch to help boost their morale. Dogs do not have the option of enlisting in the military. Yet, after they are chosen and trained, they stand next to their handlers, willing to give their lives for the humans. When a war dog locates a bomb, or a large cache of weapons or explosives, or even deters an attack, we seldom hear about it. In fact, according to USWarDogs.org , until about the year 2000, most of the military dogs were actually left behind, literally abandoned. After the Vietnam War, documentation estimates that only about 200 of the 5000 war dogs returned to the U.S. Thankfully this practice changed when President Clinton signed a law allowing for the dogs to be adopted, and now the dogs are adopted to individuals, police departments or other government agencies. (To learn how to adopt and/or support retired war dogs, google “adopt military working dogs”.) “Guardians of the Night” (author unknown) is a touching poem about military dogs that is often read at memorial ceremonies for our four-footed heroes: “Trust in me, my friend, for I am your comrade. I will protect you with my last breath. When all others have left you, and the loneliness of the night closes in, I will be at your side. My eyes are your eyes to watch you and to protect you. My ears are your ears to hear and detect evil minds in the dark. My nose is your nose to scent the invader of your domain. And so you may live, my life is also yours. Together we will conquer all obstacles, and search out those who might wish to harm others. It is for you that I will unselfishly give my life, and fill my nights without rest. Although our days together may be marked by the passing of the seasons, Know that each day at your side is my reward. My days are measured by the coming and going of your footsteps. I am your right arm, the sword at your side, your defender and protector. I attempt to do what you bid of me. I seek only to please you and remain in your favor. Together you and I shall experience a bond only others like us will understand I will listen to you without question, nor will your spoken words ever be repeated. I will remain ever silent, ever vigilant, always faithful and loyal. When our time together is done, and you move on in the world, Remember me with kind thoughts and tales of a time we were unbeatable. If needed at another time and place, I would gladly take up your fight. I am a military working dog, and together we are guardians of the night.” To those who courageously gave their lives, and those who bravely fight today, we say THANK YOU.

Snypiuer: I want to go on that T.V. show "Beat Bobby Flay". You: Really!? Snypiuer: Yeah! I would DESTROY him! You: Wow, you're THAT good a cook? Snypiuer: (Confused) Imma say what now? You: A cook. A chef. You . . . make . . . food . . . good. Snypiuer: Why would I have to be a good cook!? You: Have you EVER seen "Beat Bobby Flay"? Snypiuer: No. You: It's a cooking show where a CHEF cooks their specialty and BOBBY FLAY makes his own version of that specialty and then they're judged to see which one is better. Snypiuer: (Blank stare) Really? You: Yeah, really. Snypiuer: (Depressed) Well. O.K. then. Never mind. (Goes to put away his beating bat).

Did you do the artwork?

Time travelers keep trying to kill me . . . starting to question personal goals and ambitions.

Envision. If you can. Standing upon the ledge of the tallest building you can conceive of. Of wanting. Yearning. To leap off that ledge. To feel the wind speed past you as you plummet. To feel your heart beat faster. And faster. Your stomach tied in knots. Every muscle tense. Every nerve singing. Burning with an electrical fire. Adrenaline coursing through your body. Filling you with abject fear. And thrilling excitement. As you race headlong towards an assured fate. Yet. You do not take that step. Not out of fear. Or the lack of will. But. Because you know. You know. With a deep. Firmly rooted. Furtive. Sadness. That if you were to leap. Take that step. You'd simply float away. Like a gossamer web upon the wind. This. This is the nature of my madness. How I long to languish within the visions which invade my reality. To laugh with. To obey. The voices that whisper to me. That shout out my names. Challenging me. Cajoling me. Coercing me. How I wish I could accept them as real. To revel in complete. Detached. Irresponsible. Freedom. Oblivious to all consequences. Ramifications. Or aftermath. I hunger for the sweet embrace of their promised utter madness. Instead of knowing. With absolute clarity. They are naught but illusion. Aberrations contrived by some unknown mechanic. Gone awry. Somewhere within my psyche. My one fear. The aberrations will. One day. Become all. All I see. All I hear. And even then. Even then. I will know them for what they truly are. Precisely. Incontrovertibly. If you can understand this. You can begin to understand how an atheist. Faithless. Believes he is God. All the while knowing. Knowing. Such belief. Is pure. Complete. Absolute insanity. Then again. Who else. But God. Could do so.

Gods, Dream of Divinity. Of Divine Power and eternal life. They dream of Reality. Of mortal beings whose worship sustains them. Whose love and adoration impowers them. What if the Gods were to wake. Would the dream end. Would reality cease to exist. Would those mortal beings, Whose prayers are the lullabies that sooth their slumber, Simply disappear, In an instant. Or would those beings, themselves, wake. To find that it was they who dreamt. Dreams of Gods who dreamt of them. Would they live their lives Godless. Alone. Or would they lie down. Return to sleep. To dream. Dreams of Divinity.

Snypiuer does NOT reside in, nor has he visited, as of late, Altadena, California. Therefor he did NOT win the $2 Billion Powerball jackpot - an entirely new financial plan is being put together as I type . . . hmmm . . . Mega Millions is at $190 million . . . DRASTIC lowering of expectations and complete elimination of MULTITUDES of plans would be necessary . . . it's not ideal, but ya takes whats ya can gets . . . IT'S A PLAN!!! . . . now I just got to get someone to lend me $2 . . .💁‍♂️ 😇🤑

I was at a gas station when I heard this conversation today: *Customer hands clerk a stack of lotto play slips and the clerk runs them* Clerk: O.K., that will be $160.00. Customer: *Pays* Clerk: Thanks, here you go. *Hands slips, tickets and receipt to customer* Customer: Thanks . . . wait, these are Mega Millions, I wanted Powerball. Clerk: I'm sorry, those are the ones you gave me. Customer: Can I change them? Clerk: No. I'm sorry. We can't refund lottery tickets once they're paid for. Powerball is a separate lottery, so you would have to pay again. Customer: Why? I don't want to pay double. Clerk: You still get to keep your Mega Millions tickets. But, once you paid for them, those tickets are in the Mega Millions system and the store is responsible for paying for them, no matter what. If we refund your money, we still have to pay Mega Millions for them. *Customer has the clerk call the store manager and has a long conversation where, it's obvious, he's told the exact same thing. One thing, the guy was obviously upset, and he still didn't yell or talk down to anyone* Customer: *To clerk* Thanks, what time do you stop selling for Powerball? Clerk: You have to get all of them before 9. Customer: Thanks. *As he's getting his stuff together and leaving, he's on his phone* Hey, I got them, but I used Mega Millions slips . . . no, they can't refund or switch them . . . I'll explain it when I get home . . . yeah, I'm going to get more money and get the Powerball tickets before they stop selling. This guy then gets into a custom-built reverse-trike car, like a Slingshot but I think it was a Vanderhall . . . maybe. All I know is, as I pay my $30.00 for half a tank of gas, because that's all I can afford right now, I think to myself, "If I could afford that car and $320.00 for lottery tickets, I'd do the exact same thing. Good for him. Hope he wins something, just not the grand prize - that's for my one $2.00 ticket I already bought!"🤑🤑🤑

Is it self-contained or does it relate to any other worlds? How complete are the game mechanics? Is it its' own system (like D&D) or can it be used as an add-on (like the Atlantean Trilogy)? Ballpark, how close to being usable is it? Wait. . . what's THAT!? No, seriously! WHAT'S THAT RIGHT THERE!? AARRGGHHH!!!😨😱🤪

I need to go back and reread ALL the other descriptions! Is there a book these all belong to? If not, why?

Another one (again, no idea who came up with it): Pretty sure my last words will be, "Well crap, THAT didn't work!" Before I saw this one, I always figured my last words will be my go-to phrase when something catastrophic is about to happen to me, "This sucks." If I use this one instead, the "THAT didn't work!" part makes me think I would actually be actively attempting to avoid whatever event precipitates the utterance of said last words . . . like I had hope or something.

No idea who came up with it but here it is: I'm letting God handle this one, because if I fix it, I'm going to prison.

September isn't just about suicide awareness and the passing of a monarch; September 21 is Earth Wind and Fire Day! So, play September by Earth Wind and Fire full blast and when people complain, hold out your hand, invite them to dance, smile and ask: Do you remember the twenty-first night of September? Love was changing the minds of pretenders While chasing the clouds away Our hearts were ringing In the key that our souls were singing As we danced in the night Remember how the stars stole the night away Hey! Hey! Hey! Ba de ya' Say do you remember? Ba de ya' Dancing in September Ba de ya' Never was a cloudy day Ba duda, ba duda, ba duda, badu Ba duda, badu, ba duda, badu Ba duda, badu, ba duda My thoughts are with you Holding hands with your heart To see you Only blue talk and love Remember how we knew love was here to stay? Now, December found the love we shared in September Only blue talk and love Remember true love we share today Hey! Hey! Hey! Ba de ya' Say do you remember? Ba de ya' Dancing in September Ba de ya' Never was a cloudy day And we say Ba de ya' Say do you remember? Ba de ya' Dancing in September Ba de ya' Golden dreams were shiny days The bell was ringing, oh-oh Our souls were singing Do you remember? Never a cloudy day, now And we say Ba de ya' Say do you remember? Ba de ya' Dancing in September Ba de ya' Never was a cloudy day And we say Ba de ya' Say do you remember? Ba de ya' Dancing in September Ba de ya' Golden dreams were shiny days Ba de ya',de ya,' de ya' Ba de ya',de ya', de ya' Ba de ya', de ya', de ya', de ya' Ba de ya', de ya', de ya' Ba de ya', de ya', de ya' Ba de ya', de ya', de ya', de ya'

Nicolas Cage has NEVER made a bad movie. ANYONE says different, I will fight you. I. Will. FIGHT. You! Just want to share a quote from an article by Mike Ettel. If you’re trapped in a dark alley with Nicolas Cage mid-performance at one end and a vampire at the other, I don’t know what to tell you, you’re going to have a decision to make.

O.K., Snypiuer was asleep and was having a dream, but it was one of those dreams where you know you're asleep and dreaming. Now, Snypiuer usually just indulges his God complex in these dreams, but not this time. No, he decided to see if he could dream that he was asleep and having a dream in which he knew he was asleep and having a dream. Guess what, he could! So, Snypiuer was having a lucid dream INSIDE of a lucid dream. Now, Snypiuer isn't sure WHICH lucid dream he actually woke up from! He's been SERIOUSLY thinking about indulging his God complex in order to verify his situation, but worries he's actually awake - So, yeah, he's been kinda messed up ALL day.

Hi! I know there are still a few of you lurking, not many, but a few. I added a Literature Clock. It's at the top of the Forums under TIME. It redirects you to another site that you can just click back from. I have it set at Safe for Work and Dark theme. Every minute it will display a random passage that contains the current time in it, along with a citation. Not every time has been written about, so the nearest time written about BEFORE the unwritten about current time will remain until the next current time that has been written about. You can change the theme to light and Not Safe for Work (which will give you more times that have been written about) by clicking at the bottom of the page the passage appears on. I'm also trying to figure out how to do social media accounts for the Pen so we can link them to the site, it's just that I have NEVER had social media accounts, so I gotsta figure it out first! If you have TIME, let me know what you think!!

Toobinati: Group, society, organization, etc. that believe they are hidden and that their activities are secret and unknown to the common people (everyone NOT a member) but, in reality, their existence and activities are, not only, FULLY known worldwide, by every level of society, but have been, literally, from the very moment of their conception. EXAMPLE: You: Umm . . . what, EXACTLY are Peredhil and Snypiuer . . . doing in there? Why are they dressed like that? Do they know we can see them!? Mynx: *Head in hands, shame in her voice* The "Ceremonial Call to the Ancient High Hubabub" . . . those are their "Ceremonial Vestments" . . . no . . . they think it's a one-way mirror that they can "secretly" watch the world through. You: And you're married to one of them? Mynx: *Slumped shouldered and in a soft, defeated voice* yeah . . .

Paunchtificate: noun: The abdomen, gut, belly (especially if protruding - i.e., potbelly) of a pontiff, high priest or pope. verb: To display, utilize, present, etc. one's paunch in a pretentious, dogmatic, pompous, bombastic, excessively grandiose, arrogant (as if it is the only one that is perfect and without flaw), etc. manner. EXAMPLE: You: *Enters room. Full belly displayed for all to see. Boldly strolls to center of room, belly first, with everyone and everything falling away or pushed aside by it, with not so much as a thought nor care. Stands proudly, so all may gaze upon its' wonder.* Mynx: *Reverently approaches. Begins to softly rub the belly, eyes closed while chanting.* I wish I had a million dollars. I wish I had a million dollars.

Shaolinfreude: When one experiences joy, pleasure or self-satisfaction from witnessing or learning of the misfortune, failure, trouble, humiliation, defeat, etc. of monks who practice martial arts. EXAMPLE: You: Did you see how many monks he killed when he stole their Child-God and/or Holy/Sacred relic!? Mynx: YEAH! That'll teach them to keep/protect a 5,000-year-old secret!

Under NO circumstances, never, EVER: Rage fart. Do not ask how I know this, just accept it as fact!

I want to fight Shaq. That's right. I can, probably, take him In a semi-fair fight. I want to fight Shaq. I'm not afraid of his size. I'll climb up on a chair, Pop him in his eyes. I want to fight Shaq. At least one round. The battle would be epic But, I think, he'd go down. I want to fight Shaq. Not out of hate. Actually, I'm a fan. I think he's really great! I want to fight Shaq. Not for notoriety. Neither for the glory Or publicity. I want to fight Shaq. So HE can say he did. So he can tell his grandchildren And they can tell their kid. I want to fight Shaq. So when it's time to retire He can have a story To tell around a fire. I want to fight Shaq. I think it's plain to see I'd be doing it for him And not a bit for me. I want to fight Shaq.

Well, I don't know much. All I know comes from stories Sayliuer (my Great, Great, Great, Grand Uncle - on my moms', fathers', mothers', mothers', fathers' side) would tell when I was a child. Most stories were about a bar maid that worked in the harbor town located on the western bay of the atoll. He claimed the port that sits on that bay serves a hundred ships a day. Not sure if that's true, like, what are a hundred ships stopping at an atoll EVERY day for!? Anyways, his stories were usually about how beautiful the bar maid is, how her eyes are the most captivating, how all the sailors want to marry her, things along those lines. That, or how he would bring her gifts from distant locals, like jewelry - he was especially proud of a braided chain he said was made from the finest silver from the north of Spain and a locket he had engraved with his own name. I don't know if ANY of it is true - a beautiful bar maid that serves whiskey and wine to lonely sailors that pass their time away talking about their home and telling her how she's so beautiful she'd make a good wife and how her eyes could make sailors give up sailing. Not to mention the hundred ships a day thing! If I ever run into him again, I'll tell him to take me there and see if the Kammanaihuannaleau (pronounced "Come on I wanna lei you" - now that I see that written down, I'm beginning to question uncle Sayliuers' veracity) Atoll and this beautiful bar maid (I think he said her name was Brandy) actually exists. That's about it. Maybe you've heard of it under a different name?

Are the Tiki's any where near the Kammanaihuannaleau Atoll?

I rarely come up with something to write and when I do, I ALWAYS feel like I've seen it, or something like it, before - that I've, absentmindedly plagiarized it and summited it as my own. This is no different, so the usual apologies . . . just in case. (Even with all that, I have the feeling this is a work in progress, so ANY suggestions are, more than, welcome!) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I don't want to go. Like a child pleading with mother to be allowed to stay and play, just a little longer. Even as the sun sets and the light begins to fade. I don't want to go. I don't want to leave, just to face the night and sleep. To close my eyes. To no longer see those whom I love, their faces, their smiles. To no longer hear their voices, their laughs, their sighs. To no longer be able to hold them close. To hold them tight and tell them how much I love them, care for them, need them. I don't want to go. There is so much more I want to do. So much more I need to do. So much I was never able to do. So much I failed to do. Please, Let me stay, just a little while longer. Though the sun is setting and the light fades. Please. I don't want to go.