The Witching Hour

What is that last magical hour at work called before you are free to make your own bad decisions for your life? ANSWER: the witching hour, as inferred by the title. Would you like to know what the correct nomenclature is for all nonwork activities taking place during the witching hour? Tis called Goldbricking, my gombs.

I would like to apologize for trying to create a brand-specific synonym for friends. It didn't work out as well as I thought it would one tenth of a second before I typed it.

Ah yes, the witching hour. Since the dawn of man, this has been the most sacred of hours. A mini-holiday, really. Seven hours of half-assed work followed by one hour of sweet sweet internet surfing and time-awasting. Named after Saint Witching, an unfortunately named Flemmish monk, the historical significance has not escaped the world's attention. Legend has it that St. Witching was his monastery's gatekeeper. One day while he was busy guarding the gate for his alloted time, he fell asleep at his job for precisely the last hour before he was off for the rest of the day. Whence he awoke (some accounts say "with a start", but this is not canon), he found that a roving band of bears most vicious had attacked and killed every other member of his monastery, as was common in those ancient times. Amongst the blood and the gore, St. Witching collapsed in dispair: falling onto a pile of bear excrement. The pain of falling onto a brick of heavy metal was soon outweighed by the joy that only money can bring, for all the piles of bear excrement in the monastery (of which there were many, for bears poop a lot) held a brick of gold.

I... don't... even...

So remember, gombs, every time you goldbrick during the witching hour, you are celebrating trading your friends' lives for gold, or something. We're done here.

Nathan Jackson

WOW - Part 1

So This is Andy, I'm actually going to write a blog. This whole post is inspired by a conversation Andrew and I had about the party I'm throwing tonight and League of Legends (add me if you want to play- Meser). Don't ask; We're nerds.

So you know how you look back on times in your life and either laugh at how stupid you were or face palm because you were seriously an idiot, or both? Mine was WOW

During this time I was in college, working two jobs, engaged to Meredith (we're now married; contrary to what this post might lead you to believe) and raiding in WOW 5 days a week. Proof below. I don't really remember how I had time to do everything which was probably caused by me being drunk all the time; I wouldn't raid sober. I won't lie, I loved it.

The Best Laughing Moment- My wife telling me to put pants on because her friends were coming over

This is the probably the best memory I had and I still get a laugh out of it now. Most gamers would agree that playing video games with your pants off increases the experience by at least 12435435943% . So one day Meredith told me one of her friends was coming over to pick something up. I didn't really care/I don't know why she told me because I fully planned on playing WOW all day anyway.

This was one of those signature wake up, shower, play WOW all day (pant-less). EPIC WIN. So fast forward to 5 minuets before her friend is at our house she notices I don't have any pants on. EPIC WIN. For fear of angering Meredith, I get dressed (NOTE- This is like 7 PM).

So this is the best part, her friend brings her husband with her. He takes one look at me (playing WOW) and looking totally demoralized turns to his wife and says "why can't I do that".  For those married people, it was one of those questions you ask just to ask it but fully know what the answer will be (NO).

In conclusion, my wife is awesome.

The least interesting of blogs (for now)

Fine people of the internet, a riddle: What's up with Freakin Andy? About 5 months ago, Andy started to write his very own blog entry. Probably to defend himself from the verbal onslaught I've unleashed upon him. He never finished it. I believe the rest of the blog best suits my agenda if I let Andy just go ahead and speak for himself:

Hello. My name is Andy. No one reads this blog (yet....we hope). I'll save introductions for later.
So you probably have read (actually you probably haven't) Nathan's blog(s) below.  If you did, you learned a lot about bears.  If you didn't, you probably should. The end is near.

(C)aaaAAAaaandy Maaaaan!

Thanks, Andy. God bless.

Nathan Jackson

Druthers, as She is Had

Someone once told me that the greatness of the Danes is not soon forgotten. I can attest that I now hate this person and, more importantly, the bands thon likes. Of course, we can't speak of hating bands without also speaking of freakin Andy. Freakin Andy loves him some indie. In honor of freakin Andy, we've decided to sport our own indie band. You know, to be ironic. We've narrowed the list of band names to the following:

Atmospheric Cold Wars
Undefined Shaking
Intermittent Apathy

Furthermore, our debut album name has been narrowed down to the following:

So What, Soviet?
Alleviated Concern
The Eden Hierarchy

This debut album will contain such hits as:

I'm a Hipster, B*tch
Eyes are Like Portraits (Best Viewed through Thick Frames)
This Coffee's Okay
Let Me Tell You of my Mission Trip to Mexico
Applied Fair Trade to Catan and Lost

We've already played five sold out venues, but haven't made any money. We like to pack the house, then kick everyone out right before we play and give them all refunds. Then we play to an empty house. It's more intimate and underground that way.

Tebow?

Nathan Jackson

Regarding All Titles Recently Vacated by Departed Despots: Dibs

I call dibs. "Guiding Star of the 21st Century", "Glorious General, Who Descended from Heaven", "Amazing Politician", "Ever-Victorious, Iron-Willed Commander" and "Highest Incarnation of the Revolutionary Comradely Love" now refer to me, Nathan Jackson (as previously known, but henceforth known as [one of the titles mentioned above] Nathan Jackson). And I just blew your mind with brackets inside parenthesis. I do things like that because I am the Highest Incarnation of the Revolutionary Comradely Love (HIRCL for short). But what do these titles even mean? ANALYSIS, STAT!


Guiding Star of the 21st Century - A guide is, necessarily, in front. This is such that the sheeple (I'm being ironic here using "sheeple" because I listen to Indie music and wear square, thick-framed glasses) can clearly see the path chosen by the more intelligent and handsome individual leading them: me. However, there is more to this title than meets the eye thanks to the obscurities of the English language. On first read, it seems I am the Star who is guiding the implied sheeple - NOT SO, FUNKY READERS. I am so far ahead that I guide the star of the 21st century: Ken Jennings. If you have some kind of heart condition that causes your heart to stop after reading something overwhelmingly awesome, you'd be dead after reading the title, but even so, do not read any further. I present to you proof that Ken Jennings calls me sensei:

Ken,

In response to your request for map projection suggestions, I submit the Waterman Butterfly projection for reasons of aesthetics as well as a tone of pretentiousness.

Cheers,

Nathan Jackson

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Love the Waterman Butterfly!  Except for maybe Antarctica.

Ken

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Gentlemen,

What you behold with thine own ocular organs is in fact an email from one Kenneth Wayne Jennings III to yours truly, apropos of the Waterman Butterfly map projection.

SUCK IT,
Nathan Jackson

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That last email there might as well have been to you. Henceforth, consider it so. As for the other titles, it's really your own fault if you thought that I am structured enough to really BS my way through 5 of these things.

SUCK IT,

Nathan Jackson

Saving Your Family's Lives Just in Time for T-Day+4

If you have ever thought about heating up some leftover turkey in the microwave after Thanksgiving, STOP!

http://www.emfhealthalert.com/?p=231

What would we have done without Holly? I'll tell you: Died. We would have died, reader. But don't think the horror stops there:

http://www.emfhealthalert.com/?p=241

UgonnawatchNFLfootballafterturkeydinner? Nope. Ujustgonnadie.

I'll leave you with those two horrific thoughts and one upbeat one. The portmanteau of the day, brought to us by Holly from our friends at emfhealthalert.com, is "electrosmog". To wit:

http://www.emfhealthalert.com/?p=249 [6:45]

Your big brothers here at Gombler wish you a happy, and most importantly, SAFE, Thanksgiving, free of electrosmog.

A picture of 6 different bears lasering a hole in this boy's index finger.

Nathan Jackson

Stalwarts of Gombler: Yukon Cornelius

Please, consider the following:

I have spread my dreams under your feet, tread softly for you tread on my dreams. - W.B. Yeats

This fog's as thick as peanut butter! - Yukon Cornelius

Thank you.

Let us transcend now into an appreciative countenance as we reflect on those people, places, things, and cryptids that are frequently brought up in conversation amongst the Gombler team and more or less waste everyone's not-so-precious time. This particular revolution about the earth's axis brings us the curious case of Cornelius comma Yukon. Cut to picture.

That's the fellow.

Born to a family of little means in the tiny town of Bissett, Canada, Yukon dropped out of school at a young age. He spent his teenage years working the clay part-time at a brickyard (an occupation he would later reflect on as "ironic") and running peppermint for the local crime lord known only as "The Candy Man". Unbeknownst to both Yukon and the Candy Man, they would become responsible for the town's hendiadys moniker of "Vigor and Verve", respectively.

Yukon soon discovered that those employed by the Candy Man, were owned by the Candy Man. Yukon's parents, Klondike and Saskatchewan, fell ill shortly after Yukon's 17th birthday.  As the medical bills piled up, Yukon had no choice but to accept the Candy Man's seemingly generous offer of financial help. Predictably, once his parents had recovered, the Candy Man kidnapped them both in the middle of the Canadian night (around 2:30 PM), leaving only a note scribbled on a Tootsie Roll wrapper demanding 2.5 million troy ounces of gold and 3.5 million troy ounces silver bullion in exchange for his parents' lives.

At his wit's end, the normally bombastic Yukon quietly left Bissett the next morning about two months later to begin a career in the booming field of acting. Taking the screen name "John Candy" on orders from his new master, Yukon soon became a star. Illustrate.

John "Yukon Cornelius" Candy

 

After 21 years of  sending his earnings to the Candy Man to pay for extensions on his parents' lives, Yukon realized that because he was paid in Canadian dollars, he would never be able to come up with enough money to buy the precious metals as an actor. The author opines that perhaps it took Yukon 21 years to figure this out because he dropped out of school at a young age. Thusly and righteously, Yukon proceeded to feign his own death by heart attack and, acting on a hot tip from an old prospector, turned to prospecting the deep north for the gold and silver he so desperately needed. Image, as an imperative.

That's the chap.

 

You know the rest of the story. We've all heard the heartwarming tale of Yukon Cornelius' adventures with his rowdy friends in the snowcapped mountains closest to the North Pole. It is this author and his associated company's position that a little bit of Yukon Cornelius lives in all of us. Every time a man puts off shaving his face out of laziness, somewhere Yukon Cornelius is smiling.

Nathan Jackson