Welcome back to the final installment of Tom’s tale. We left Tom in quite a pickle last week. Let’s step inside and see where our friend is now. As a side note, thank you to everyone for the kind words concerning this story. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.
Hello dear friends. Welcome back to part 2 of The Sad and Short Earthbound Life of Tom Marshall. For those of you who missed last week’s post, feel free to catch up before continuing. For those of you eagerly awaiting to see what happens to Tom next, hit the jump.
Hello there my friends. I hope your weekend is starting off great. Today you’re in for a treat. I am posting the first part of an original story. I wrote this because my life can be dreadfully boring sometimes. So to fill the void I pass the time by inventing stories and playing them in my head like movies. If I’m lucky, I can translate them into words. So sit back, relax, and enjoy.
Mother Nature is at it again here in New England. Though She can be a dependable source of sunshine and sustenance in many parts of the world, She tends to be fickle in my neck of the woods. One moment she is warm, hospitable; the next She is cold and treacherous–out to get you if you even try to go out. It’s all part of the plan, really. She likes to keep us on our toes, never allowing anyone to be too comfortable with how things are, and I like that about Mother Nature, honestly. I welcome this aura of irregularity because inconsistent states (be they nature-based or otherwise) can be conducive to creativity and productivity: you have to deal with all the contending elements, make the best of what’s at your disposal, and hopefully something interesting comes out of it. And when this great, big storm finally hits the ground and piles up all the snow and logistical problems that come with it, we can plow and pack and shape that snow into salutatory snowmen, serene snow angels, and epic snow forts. We can sled and ski our way to freedom in a winter wonderland. And if you choose to stay inside, you can finally do all those things that you’ve been meaning to accomplish (read that book everyone’s talking about, watch a classic movie, do some writing, etc.). Once the snow is given by good ol’ Mother Nature, it’s ours for the taking. So go ahead and make good on this, just like these fine examples of snowman fecundity.
George Lucas, perhaps after being visited by some benevolent omnidimensional sojourner, has sold his most beloved franchise. The moment that fans realized Lucas was finally out of the picture, we began to dream. To wonder. To flirt with the idea that the piss-taste that’s been lurking in our mouths since 2005 may very well be washed away. New Star Wars films could be treated with the respect they deserve.
So, what’ve we been promised thus far? A new trilogy. Kasdan and Kinberg. J.J. Abrams. Cameos from members of the original cast. The interest of Hollywood’s finest actors and directors and other personnel. Spin-off, stand-alone movies.
In short, we finally have a newer hope.
Yesterday’s confirmation of the stand-alone flicks was the final nail in the coffin for my cautious optimism. I am now, for the first time in years, reveling in full-on nerdlust at the thought of new Star Wars. And while I have quite a bit of faith that a new trilogy could be beyond excellent, I’ve always loved the idea of free-standing movies taking place within the galaxy that Uncle George introduced back in `77!
Join me as I take a moment to geek-out about the prospect of new Star Wars movies! I’m going to fanboy my way through some of the premises I’d like to see materialize, no doubt getting so excited that my retainer spills onto the keyboard and my Diet Shasta bubbles over. After you check out my ideas, hit up the comments section and describe what you’d like to see during our next voyages to a galaxy far, far away…
Oh snap! Looks like OMEGA-`LECTION DAY is upon us! I can’t believe we’ve made it to another one, but since we’re here we might as well celebrate! Hit the jump to check out all of our totally legitimate coverage!
Hello friends! The Omegalytes are transcending space and national borders this week to lock down a booth at Fan Expo Canada. The sumbitch is in Toronto from August 23-26, and we encourage all of you in the area to stop on by our little niche of insanity at the gala. Come! Behold Rendar Frankenstein, Patrick Bateman, the suspiciously familiar looking Allen Drinkwater pushing OMNI, Budrickton and myself.
This may be old as fuck, but Eddie Not a Planet shared this with me today. In but a moment, I was transformed. If two lads ever channeled the spirit of the Omega Brothers while igniting something, it is these lads.
Three years ago today, I awoke with a mission. I was going to grow wings, fly to Mars, and fuck each and every Martian I could find. All holes. Any holes. Dudes, chicks, transgenders, Siamese twins. It didn’t matter. I was a man with a plan, and on Mars nothing is impossible. Unfortunately for me, and each and every Martian babe and hottie bro, my girlfriend awoke. Slathered in my own spittle and hanging precariously from our roof, she calmly Michael Jordan’d a deec amount of lamotrigine down my gullet. No backboard, all throat. Teary-eyed, I went from crying that my wings weren’t working to politely asking her to pull me up into the house.I was too heavy, we both fell. She broke her tailbone and my fall.
When I recovered later that day, I decided I would start a blog.