Thank you for experiencing this crash with us. Have a nice day

Var kominn með fína færslu, svolítil lífsspeki í bland við húmor og hnitmiðaða persónusköpun og þá hrundi vafrinn. Og ég hef ekki heimild til að setja upp Firefox í vinnunni. Ég hata Internet Explorer.

tack tack

--Drekafluga eldrefur--

Hebbi Gumm

Herbert ísbúðareigandi Guðmundsson kom inn í dag og allar stundir síðan hef ég verið með helvítis Can't Walk Away límt á heilann, bara við það eitt að sjá honum bregða fyrir. Hjörleifur Guttormsson kom líka í dag, Bjarni Haukur Símonarson er að tala í síma við hliðina á mér og hún þarna söngkona spurði mig út í ljósmyndapappír áðan. Penninn er greinilega The Place To Be. Og þar er ég.

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--Drekafluga, too spaced to see--

Pristius: Origin

The son of Deane and Caitlin Ulbright, one an accountant and the other a blade for hire, was named Deacon. He was a happy-go cheerful type and grew up in Stormwind, content with his life. Then one day, after long hours of playing pranks on the magistrate, Deacon returned to a home engulfed in purple shadow. Fearing for his parents he went to rush in but something held him back, a feeling. He inched closer, dead silent and witnessed a conversation behind the blackened glass in the windows. A huge, demonic figure towered over his parents and a few indiscernible creatures surrounded them. A deep, dark voice made the glass shudder before Deacon's pale face "It is time we take back what you got from us. The boy is ours!" "You will never have him, old friend," said Caitlin levelly, staring deep into the demon's eyes. "Now go back to your pit and tell Qu'Znah that if he ever wants to talk to me, he can come himself." There was a pause before a deep demonic laughter filled the house. The demon shouted a command and the creatures attacked. The Ulbrights suddenly transformed from mere husband and wife into precision fighters, holding off the minions. Deacon's eyes were wide with terror, his face pressed against the glass. A crowd had gathered on the street but saw nothing through the blackness. The priests and paladins had been called.

The fight continued and the Ulbrights were outnumbered. Deane's side was torn asunder by a blade made out of shadow. Gritting his teeth, he slumped momentarily but then straightened as his sword-wielding arm shot out and stabbed through the head of his attacker. The minion disappeared with a shriek and Deane fell to his knees. But Deacon didn't see that. Filled with a blinding rage from seeing his father cut, he burst into the house, screaming. Caitlin's face went pale. "No, Deacon! Get out of here! Find the paladins! Go n-" She looked down to see a blade sticking straight out of her chest. She fell into the arms of her husband and they sank to the floor. They drew their last breath together. Silence.

The large demon turned towards the silenced boy, tears streaming from his closed eyes, running unchecked down his cheeks. "You will come with me, Kulzac." Deacon didn't move but trembled ever so slightly. The demon uttered a command to one of his minions and it glided over to the boy, grabbing his shoulder. The shadowy figure jolted back, as if electricuted. It was then the demons noticed a glow radiating from the young boy. He opened his eyes and they were like fiery orbs. A high pithced sound was barely audible but still cut the ears of the dark figures. The large demon shouted an attack and the minions rushed towards the boy as the room was filled with bright, pristine light.

The house had been torn apart as Lord Brighton stepped of his horse. The other paladins weren't far behind. Brighton climbed over the rubble of the outer wall to find a peculiar sight. Every wall was charred and covered in soot, like from an explosion. In what would have been the centre of the explosion lay a young boy, untouched by the damage all around him. Brighton rushed towards him, removing his gauntlets. He took the boy into his arms and was overwhelmed with joy to find that he was alive. More paladins entered the ruined building in the formerly peaceful street, a bewildered and worried look on their faces. The boy drudgingly opened his eyes and looked, blinking into the steel-blue eyes of the strong paladin. Lord Brighton smiled. "Hello, young Pristius. You are safe now. I have been waiting for you."

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--Drekafluga, í laugardagsvinnunni--

Aaaaandrééééés Guuuuðmundsoooooon!!

Ég afgreiddi þennan mann í dag. Hann minnir mig á tröll teiknuð af Brian Pilkington. Alveg sláandi lík. Andrés var ein af hetjunum mínum þegar ég var lítill. Einn sterkasti maður Íslands og nútíma víkingur. Hann er ennþá kúl. Fyrir þá sem ekki vita þá vinn ég nú við að selja Dell tölvur og tengdar vörur í Pennanum í Hallarmúla. Þetta er eins konar útibú fyrir EJS og ég verð að segja að ég er skemmtilega sáttur við þetta. Dell eru líka margfalt svalari en IBM og þetta starf fer vel við að ég er nýlega búinn að hrista af mér fordómana sem innstimpluðust í mig gagnvart Dell hjá Nýherja. Skil ekki ennþá hvað var að mér. Dell er freaking málið. Komið til mín og ég skal selja ykkur tölvu á góðum díl. . . .Ég er svangur. Ég ætla að grilla kjúklingabringur í kvöld. Hoody hoo! Svo ég nefni það líka, verslið við Gallerý Kjöt. Það er eðall.

tack tack

--svöng Drekafluga--