I've yet to hug a piggy in my garden

I've yet to hug a piggy in my garden

by Crazy Lunatic Wizard Vlad

I have three little piggies in my garden,

They're all so soft and cute, I love them all,

Only, I have a bigger problem,

I've yet to hug a piggy in my garden.

This poem might not make no sense,

Nor gramatically or logically,

That is the point, you may have guessed,

I've yet to hug a piggy in my garden.

You see, the problem is with pigs,

They reproduce, and hate intruders.

So all the piggies' little sons,

Protect my lovely garden.

I've yet to hug a piggy in my garden.

Only, I have a bigger problem,

They're all so soft and cute, I love them all,

I have three little piggies in my garden.

But these piggies hate me so,

Think I am the Evil Man,

They want to take my house over,

Conquer my lovely house.

I wonder why they all hate me,

I gave them life, and let them free,

Maybe, that is their problem!

I've yet to hug a piggy in my garden!

They wanted love, they wanted care,

I was busy doing magic.

Now I am old, not young, like then,

But now, they don't care.

I've yet to hug a piggy in my garden.

I'll never even get around to.

Since I can feel their knife in my back,

I've yet to hug... a piggy in my gard-....

Welcome back! (and Quidditch in Romania)

Hello, peeps! Welcome back! It has been a WHILE since I last posted, mostly because school, exams, blah-blah. But now I have a summer's worth of time to kill and ready to start back again! With a changed writing style, because I change and develop over time. 

So, a lot of you may probably have (never) asked yourself this question: how is Quidditch in Romania? Glad you asked, person I've probably never met! It's basically the same, we just have candy canes and meatballs instead of brooms and actual playing balls. It may seem like a waste but it's actually a way we prove our creativity, it's really interesting. They're genuine candy canes and meatballs prepared before each match, but we practice with plastic versions.

What's interesting about Romanian Quidditch isn't actually this, shockingly enough, but the dilemmas within. You're most probably not caught up with any of this so I'll go through everything, basically:

There's two sides: The Brown Bears (animals found in the biggest quantity in Romania of all Europe) and The Vampires. They... HATE each other. The mascots always fight each match, one pulling out their bear head to whack the other's fangs off. It's so bad pro-Bear people eat garlic sauce they get from KFC (yes, we, Romanians, have that in our KFCs) with fries to show their hatred towards The Vampires. But, the most recent news is: fans of The Brown Bears ambushed a McDonalds restaurant (pro-Vampire, rival of pro-Bear KFC) and poured an entire garlic sauce down the best Vampire player, a NIGHT before the match. So, the Vampires lost. I am pro-Vampire and furious at these primitive animals' barbaric actions. We play a noble game, due to our players' delicate skin's sensitivity to daylight they play at night, find subtleness in the taste of wine and dress elegantly, as shown by our fine robes.

I hope this satisfied your curiosity towards a previously unknown situation.

The Orangade

Being a student of a class of Orangi aspiring scientists of The Orangade Galaxy, we were assigned a collaboration project, to test our capabilities, using all knowledge gathered, while also helping our interplanetary citric people: we had to study the Great Orange Meteorite, the one made of the skin of my folk, identified as an other humanoid race's doing, The Founders. Together, we, the class, were driven by the same goal, to study the circuits of our creation, the origins of our artificial intelligence and our bodies' way of producing another algorithm for our future children...

While in the interplanetary vehicle, a thought dawned on me: the result of this project will greatly impact my career, and also my people. Any mistake could eliminate the chance to discover the reason for our existence, and with it my dream of becoming a researcher, passionate about science...

Cooperation was essential.

Things went better than expected: we discovered a document delivered in binary form, a form present in our algorithms. Out of nowhere appeared a dark, massive silhouette. Its beige skin revealed by Nora, the main star of the solar system we were in's light, was extraoranji, similar to our science-fiction writings. I then notice its humanoid structure, its face, eyes, nose, ears, locomotor system, and others, which all indicated to similar origins to ours... “A Founder!”, I shouted. He approached us, took our document and burnt it in front of our very eyes using his thermally-adjustable glove. He left us there, petrified by what had just happened!

Our discovery alarmed The Orangade. We passed and graduated, but our folk is now troubled by curiosity and the mystery behind our origins, our existential crisis...

Bread

 I am a baker. People tell me what I bake is not dough. Although it all looks the same to me and all I cook for enjoy my bread.

 I am always confused as to why so many neglect my dough and why they show me pictures of me making it. They all use weird words, which all mean dough. I have always been cooking it and my mother always supported me, so she sent me to a special school. There I baked more and many loved my dough.

 Nobody ever wanted to work with me, which was always very confusing. I never understood this weird love and hate for my dough, and every time I read newspapers I see the same thing: “amazing new concept of dough”, which always confuses me, since I never think I did anything different, and “horrific”, “dog”, “blood”, “cat”, “living beings”. Why everybody blames me for making bread of living beings is confusing. They are dough beings, of different sizes. Bakers always cook dough, and so do I. To avoid the other bakers and people arguing with what I do, I go at midnight and collect my usual dough. From special places where they grow it or houses where they keep it. I always get out their collars and then mash them with my rolling pin. I then cook it with love in the morning and sell it.

 My bakery has gone up in flames two times. I was informed it wasn't of natural causes, but the arsonists were never found.

 Would you eat my bread?

Attraction Distraction

Four lines. Three turn into congruent isosceles triangles, their sides larger than the base. The fourth turns into a square.

The first triangle turns green, the second purple, and the third yellow. The square turns blue.

A big red circle appears and attracts the three triangles. They stick to it. In their distraction, three little white circles, camouflaged with the paper, steal the blue square, their priceless possession. They finally notice after the circle turned pink, then light green. They press onto the circle, compressing it into a small circle, and they start to throw it. Eventually, it grows back. The fight begins.

The circle breaks in four sectors, three of them each going towards a triangle, while the fourth is drawing something. The green triangle detaches its top section and from its inside comes out a missile, heading towards the attacking sector. It dodges it but the missile reaches the sector attacking the yellow triangle, breaking it into shards. The yellow triangle puts the shards inside it after removing its top and forms a sword, heading for the sector attacking the purple triangle. It gets split in half, and the newly forms sectors stick to the sector attacking the green triangle, as if they were arms. The triangles successfully dodge some attacks before the yellow triangle manages to cut the main body in two. It then doesn't hesitate to cut it into shards.

The fourth sector has been drawing a big square, and inside appear the three white sector with the blue square. The yellow triangle quickly breaks the last sector and breaks the big square for the others to come in and ambush. They manage to catch two circles and the last is broken by the yellow triangle. The other triangles throw the white circles. The triangles and the square leave to sit , eternally, in peace, on the paper.

Wet Cold Tissue

A wet tissue. On cold metal. The tissue spreads on the surface beneath, sinking into the thin sponge hidden down below, whilst also not soaking. Black surrounds all, and there is nothing beneath the cold metal cube to hold it. It floats, though still, through the void, not moving. It seems as if it were anchored in some 3D program. Then, he comes.

He who wears no clothes, he who is warm, floating, moving through the cold black, towards the metal cube, and embraces it, mixing the boiling heat and the freezing cold together. He who feels the wet cold of the tissue on his right ear, slowly soaking, absorbing into his ear, reaching deeper and deeper. He likes it and doesn't hold back. A water drop is heard. Water drops start dripping through a hole through in the middle of the metal cube's bottom, dripping from the spongy inside, reaching what looked like a liquid surface 5 meters below, returning to the solid, invisible, transparent, inexistent state, until another one drops 5 seconds after. After 10 drops, he closes his eyes in pain, darkness in front of his eyes, and says: “My ears stopped working”. He suddenly shakes, nervously, suddenly, every 5 seconds, precisely 2.4 seconds after each water drop. After 5 drops, 3.7 seconds after the latest, he detaches from the metal cube and floats in the opposite direction through the cold black, looking scared at it.

Apple

Look at this apple as I am holding it with both of my hands in front of you in the dark cellar dimly lit by the candle on the desk behind me. Study its red color, with shades of light green, attracting the caged creature hidden away by darkness in the corner close to you. Feel its weight by studying through the power of vision in this cellar, ignoring the spiralling staircase going upstairs at the back end wall.