Ever notice how it's the little things in life that amuse us so much? More to the point, ever notice how it's the silly little idiocies in life that amuse us more than anything else? Well, this is not as much ''the little blog that could'' as it is ''the blog that enjoys going up the down escalator in your local mall.'' Will it have anything of real importance? No, probably not. But enjoy the ride never the less!

 


Sometimes, you find something on the Intertubes that is so ridiculous in all the wrong ways, it can only inspire you to add your own (ideally not-as-wrong) contribution to the silliness. I don't think I've actually posted anything resembling an actual, full-blown, "hokey smoke watch me pull a story out of my hat" tale on this little bit of nowhere before, but hey, there's a first for everything. And all things considered, this really isn't something I'm aiming to publish one day.

(But if I do, I'm entrusting someone to shout "Oh John Ringo No!" before shooting me as a public service. Please?)

A quick note beforehand: if you don't read Fandom Wank regularly, you'll probably want to read the overview that precedes the story. It gives context. And tentacles.

Otherwise you can just skip ahead and revel in...the Hot Wet Planet!!!




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From:
seiberwing wrote in fandom_wank,
@ 2008-09-15 09:56:00


Entry tags: porn, rp, tentacle pr0n

Subject Heading: Dude, at least be honest about it.



Arisama is looking for writers to help him with his new roleplaying forum "Hot Wet Planet", and takes his description over to rpg.net.


The setting takes as it's starting point, ideas from a blend of "John Carter on Mars", Thrud the Barbarian's adventures in Lemuria, Robert E Howard's original Conan the Cimmerian's Hyborean World, Edgar Rice Burrough's "Pelucidar", and similar pulp adventures in Heroci Fantasy, but based a lot on the concept of a Venus-the-Jungle-Planet sort of 1950s B-grade Sci-Fi movies as if re-imagined by a bunch of perverted tentacle-monster loving Japanese ero-manga (Hentai) fans & comic book artists.

....

Please keep in mind, it's for mature/adult members, you need to be over 16 to join. It's a fantasy/SF roleplaying setting with strongly erotic elements, although the focus is on the roleplaying & adventures.

If you're only interesting in playing, the game isn't open yet, but we would like to have players ready to start together (as part of whatever group they'll be with) when the game opens up (we're planning for November, just 2 months away). As an example, the starship crew should start together as a group within the same week, so that they have a chance to play out and develop their characters for awhile before arriving on the Hot Wet Planet. There's also the native cultures - one which is rather close to typical fantasy/medieval (but with erotic twists), another which are tribal jungle savages (the game's barbarians), and a third group which are descendants from Earth colonists (whose culture has been changed dramatically by the world's strange magical & erotic energies).

A few members find this a bit worrisome, for obvious reasons. Arisama takes huge offense to this and replies vehemently that they are interrogating the text from the wrong perspective and that anyone criticizing it for being a touch sleazy is a prude. Obviously, stats such as the following are hardly pornographic.

Attr = Attractiveness, beauty, appearance. For female characters, Attr adds to Def when they are attacked with harmful intentions (such as somebody trying to kill them or injure them), but subtracts from Def when they are attacked with lustful intentions (anything from somebody grabbing a quick feel & grope, sexually molesting them as they pass by, to grabbing them with the intention of engaging in any kind of sex act).

HWPE = Hot Wet Planet Effect, which is an overall level of the Hot Wet Planet's mysterious energy influence upon the character. The higher the HWPE, also the higher the character's libido & constant sexual arousal (more than exponentially increased for each level up), but also HWPE can add to Psi for "danger-sense", and makes it less likely that the character will be attacked for the purpose of becoming a meal. On the negative side, a higher HWPE makes it more difficult to resist the Hot Wet Planet's mental & emotional effects. A higher HWPE for the guys makes them more aggressive, domineering, sexist towards the girls, more likely to fight each other, etc... A higher HWPE for the girls makes them more submissive, more shy & easily embarrassed, a lot hornier & wetter (all the time), less able to cover themselves, and overwhelms their willpower to force them to flirt & sexually expose themselves - even when they don't want to, nor intend to - and magnifies pleasurable sensations.

In addition, some unidentifiable element of the environment is changing the survivors, eroticising them, making the females constantly horny yet more shy at the same time, more youthful, more like a guy's wet-dream fantasy, and removing all their body hair from their neck to their toes. The guys get bigger dicks, muscles, a penchant for crude violence, and that sort of thing, as if the planet was turning the men into barbarian warriors.

In the background, unknown at least at first to the Offworlder survivors, the planet's higher lifeforms have a simple mass-mind that is using it's powerful psionics to mentally influence and sometimes dominate the humans in lecherous ways, having it's strongest effect on the females (who gain the benefit of being occasionally protected, & subtly forewarned about real dangers); many of the younger (or younger appearing) women discover they are incapable of wearing underwear, or any kind of pants, or even anything more covering than an indecently short tunic or mini-dress...and the effect is becoming stronger with the passing of time.

Then there are the Tentacle Monsters to contend with....the size of a small car or as large as a house, in many shapes and forms, but always having phallic tentacles and a sexual obsession with humanoid females.

But Arisama goes on and on, slinging out the insults while claiming personal attacks. Darren Mac Lennen sums the situation up perfectly (and receives some sort of awesome points for this right here):




Later, Arisama points out that it isn't ready yet, so everyone should stop complaining about it being poorly written. Bolding his:


Did I mention that the site isn't ready yet? Yes I did. You can stop right there. The editing is still ongoing. It will always be ongoing. That's how editing usually works. I edit everyone else's writing on the site too. There's a lot to edit. That it's not yet finished isn't surprising, after all I did mention that it's not yet finished. We're not planning on opening until November. Your comment is totally unfair and unwarranted. It's really no more than a personal attack.


Apparently editing after he puts it up on the intertubes is the way things really should be done, despite the fact that a) everyone else thinks this is a bad idea and b) the site itself is already up, shoddy as it looks.


The whole thing seems to be degenerating into lulz for everyone but the flailing Arisama, but at this point that's about all that can be done.

UPDATE: In a far from unexpected move, Arisama compliments rpg.net for increasing his site's google ranking. However, a quick Google search determines that it is actually the rpg.net thread that is in the topmost rankings under "Hot Wet Planet"--with this post coming in fifth. Huzzah.


Actual link can be found here:

http://www.journalfen.net/community/fandom_wank/1178951.html#cutid1







From “Fandom Wank” poster: anonyrat

I was too busy watching the constant low-level edition wars (tm) over in d20 Open to notice this! Man, I have to keep tabs on the other forums.

I’m kind of tempted to join the RP and role-play a scene where my character keeps failing to put on underwear. Over and over and over again.

Because really, what the hell could possibly cause you to be UNABLE to wear panties? Electromagnetic crotch polarization?


***

From “Fandom Wank” poster: fishies

>removing all their body hair from their neck to their toes.

I want to create a female character with a giant handlebar mustache now. All men shall swoon at the sight of her mighty ‘stache!


***

From “Fandom Wank” poster: tehrin

I officially hate this wank for making me apply Earth Logic to Tentacle Monsters

Then there are the Tentacle Monsters to contend with...the size of a small car or as large as a house, in many shapes and forms, but always having phallic tentacles and a sexual obsession with humanoid females.

Questions:
1) What shapes would tentacles be if they weren’t phallic-shaped? I’m guessing normal and jellyfish-like, but that’s real world logic which doesn’t apply to his tentacle porn fetish kink. Which leads too...

2) Given the information presented; that all the tentacle monsters on this planet have phallic-shaped tentacles and they have a sexual obsession with humanoid females, there are obviously male tentacle monsters. Would female tentacle monsters even exist on this planet? If they do, we are to assume their phallic-like (emphasis on phallic) appendages are strap-ons and that they are all lesbians because of all tentacle monsters in this world have an obsession with humanoid females.

3)Would male tentacle monsters even be interested in female tentacle monsters? The author stresses the lust for humanoid females as an obsession, so I am concluding that they probably would not. Therefore, where do baby tentacle monsters come from?

Ergo, I must conclude that bisexual and heterosexual female or male tentacle monsters do not exist, male tentacle monsters do not have an interest in possible female tentacle monsters. So, therefore the species has to be a hybrid species, in order to exist in this fantasy world, and thus the product of tentacle monster/humanoid relations.

WAT THE FLIPPITY FUCK?!?









A silly-assed ficlet by: His lordship Chaos

Based on the obviously-not-porn SciFi RPG “Hot Wet Planet” created by: Asisama.
And wanked by: Fandom Wank
Special distinction, love and credit due: Darren Mac Lennen, anonyrat, fishes & tehrin.

With an adoring shout-out to Glempf of “Ghastly’s Ghastly Comic.”


On the Hot Wet Planet, many strange things abounded. Many hot, strange things. Hot, wet and strange things. But not pornographic things, oh most certainly not. That was an easy mistake for an amateur to make if they cast their untrained eyes into the wild jungles of this unusual planet. Certainly there were many scantily clad females parading about in an oversexed manner. And, granted, all the men were no longer forced to hide their penis inferiority complexes by buying shiny sports cars. Oh yes, and there were more nipples on display than you’d find in a baby bottle manufacturing plant.

But there was nothing pornographic about any of this.

Not even the rampant sex was pornographic.

Again, it might be difficult for a casual observer to grasp this concept, but naturally that is because a casual observer is making the glaring mistake of using Earth logic. But these hot and wet and strange things aren’t happening on Earth, are they? No, Sir, this is the Hot Wet Planet! And where there is Hot Wet Planet-on-Planet action, so too must Hot Wet Planet Logic be used!

Today’s story begins in the depths of the hot wet jungles, where a group of alien tentacle monsters had gathered together for an important--nay, momentous task. They had gathered to bear witness to hot lesbian sex. And as everyone in the Internet meme communities should know by now, by “sex” we mean “tea.” (Which was both hot and wet, but definitely not pornographic…and why are you suddenly looking so disappointed?)

The tea in question was being enjoyed amidst a rousing game of poker. Indeed, on the Hot Wet Planet, tea and poker had evolved amongst the tentacle monsters into a part of their national identity. The four of them sat around the sizeable poker table, their long, undulating tendrils carefully grasping their small, ceramic cups of tea and saucers.

“Now then,” said one of the tentacle monsters whose helpful nametag identified himself as Hello, My Name Is Murfle-Flurgen. He paused to set down his teacup and then used another tentacle to adjust his eye monocle. “I must kindly disagree with you, Sir. I refuse to believe that fate, as you so describe, has dictated that events happen apriori, thus negating any opportunity for free will or even random chance. This can only bring me to the inevitable conclusion that you must be trying to deal me all the bad cards!”

The tentacle monster sitting across from him, clad in his dealer’s hat and a swanky black necktie, harrumphed and waved a dismissive tentacle at the claim. “On the contrary, you do me disrespect by claiming that fate is nothing more than playing the most favourable of odds,” said the dealer, who was known by the others as Blurfmep. “Besides it’s your own damned fault for trying to bluff with a pair of two’s.”

“And I would have won too,” stated Murfle-Flurgen, “had it not been for those meddling hairless mammals. I swear my entire flagellum involuntarily went out of its way to smack them on the hindquarters as they ran on by.”

“Most peculiar,” agreed Blurfmep. “I still have yet to understand just how it is our flagellum are irresistibly attracted to their flesh.”

“Oh, hadn’t you guessed?” the third tentacle monster remarked. His name was Akhrumnar (from the lower Wet side, for those of you not following this story with the helpful HWP Coles Notes), and he wore a commemorative ‘Cthulhu For President’ button. “It’s the carbon base in their bodies. Our own cellular physiology is magnetically attracted to it.”

“Well, there you have it,” said Murfle-Flurgen. “This certainly explains why I had to chain my appendages down to stop them from involuntarily spanking that mammal-girl.”

The fourth and final tentacle monster, who went by the name of Brad, was significantly smaller when compared to the others, despite his large glaring eyestalk and twitching flagellum. He sat hunched over his chair, scrutinizing the five cards being held aloft by a tendril. He let out a rumbling that sounded like, “Ph’ugha iia shubnigurath.”

Akhrumnar’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Now what exactly was that supposed to be?”

“Some rather disparaging remarks about your mother,” said Murfle-Flurgen. “And he wants one card.”

Blurfmep passed Brad a card. “How exactly can you understand that anyways?”

“Oh, you’d be surprised at what strange, irrational things I am intimate with,” said Murfle-Flurgen.

“Try me.”

“When no one is looking, you like slingshotting the underwear left behind by all those hairless mammal-girls, just to see how far they’ll go.”

Blurfmep tilted all of his eyestocks to one side. “And what does that have to do with strange, irrational things?”

“Nothing. I just felt like pointing it out.”

“I’ll have you know I was testing the underwear in an effort to better comprehend by the mammal-girls find it so difficult to keep them on. My associate's current theory involves electromagnetic crotch polarization. Alas, so far none of our studies have been conclusive.”

“You also hit me in the murbleflaps with one this morning,” Akhrumnar said.

“Did I? Oh, terribly sorry.”

“Think nothing of it. Now who’s round is this?”

Blurfmep tossed down two cards, and took another two from the deck for himself. “Bad enough those hairless mammals go gallivanting about like that, leaving their litter everywhere, but did you see the scandalous sign they posted up in my surfboard shop yesterday? Apparently, some of them have an anal-surfboard fetish.”

The other tentacle monsters gasped and murmured amongst themselves.

Brad stiffened, quite possibly insulted by the thoroughly scandalous topic, and warbled out, “Ph’ugha! Ia R’lyeh! Ftagn!”

“Now that,” remarked Murfle-Flurgen, “was definitely a disparaging remark about your mother.”

“Why, I must confess astonishment at your claim, Sir!” Blurfmep exclaimed, throwing his cards facedown onto the poker table. “Our very asexual physiology negates any such issue of gender. My progenitor simply divided into six smaller versions, of which I was but one.”

“True,” said Akhrumnar, “but that cannot escape the fact that the person writing this is referring to us all by gender-specific pronouns and possessives.”

Murfle-Flurgen immediately thwacked him upside the back of the murbleflaps for being an idiot and pointing out such a glaring hole in the plot.

“Well, it’s true,” Akhrumnar persisted. “And besides, our mistaken interest in the mammal-girls only is leading to what I fear are some misconstrued theories about our species as a whole. I’ve heard talk amongst some of the mammals that apparently, if we are gender specific, male tentacle monsters do not have an interest in possibly female tentacle monsters. Thusly, by their reasoning our species has to be a hybrid courtesy of tentacle/mammal relations.”

All the tentacle monsters groaned and tried to wave aside the horrid mental images.

“Heaven help us if the male-type mammals think this,” said Murfle-Flurgen. “They’ll copulate with anything that moves provided they think it’s related to their species.”

The quartet paused as one of their tentacled associates glorped past them, desperately trying to free himself from a dozen or so muscular and surprisingly well-oiled men as they attempted to pleasure themselves on his various limbs.

“A little help here!” the hapless monster shouted at them.

“N’gah-Kthun,” sighed Brad, shaking his numerous eyestalks.

The other three tentacle monsters mumbled in agreement and resumed their rousing game of poker. And for a short time they were able to carry on in peace, enjoying their tea/hot lesbian sex between rounds of cards and debating whether or not, if there were such a thing as female tentacle monsters, would their phallic-like appendages actually be strap-ons? (And if so, would they have remote controlled vibrating functions and blinking lights?)

Unfortunately, since this story did not get more than 5 reviews since being posted on FF.Net, we’ll have to skip right over that part and cut to the big finish!

The trouble began when Akhrumnar looked up from his full house of aces and fives. He scowled at what he saw and discreetly nudged Murfle-Flurgen. “Hey, that hairless mammal-girl is back again.”

The tentacle monsters straightened up and glanced over their chairs. Standing directly behind Murfle-Flurgen was one of the human females they had regularly seen around their villa in recent days. Naturally this could only end in disaster, if last night’s “private junior college tentacle monsters’ locker room” incident was any indication of what would happen whenever she appeared.




The most peculiar aspect about her was that the only hair she sported on her naked body was found above her neckline. She clasped her hands in front of her chest, deliberately pushing her bosom out towards Murfle-Flurgen. She smiled shyly at him and in a not so coy voice asked, “Can I have a spanking?”

Needless to say, Murfle-Flurgen was terrible affronted. “What?” he exclaimed. “No, most certainly not! Can’t you see I’m busy here?”

The girl batted her eyes and struck a coy, sexy pose. “Please?”

“No.”

“Just a little slap on the bottom?”

“No!!” Murfle-Flurgen shouted, nearly flinging his cards into the air.

“I like her,” Akhrumnar said aside to Brad.

Brad stared at him in bewilderment. “Ftagn?”

“What?” Akhrumnar said. “I have a thing for handlebar moustaches, that’s all. And she’s sporting a rather fetching one.”

Murfle-Flurgen simply rolled his eyestalks and moved his chair to ensure his back was directly in front of the mammal-girl. “Might we please continue with our game?” he said to the others, and picked up his teacup. “Just ignore her and she’ll wander off to find something else to fellatiate.”

“Are you absolutely certain?” asked Blurfmep.

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

Blurfmep gestured with one of his tentacles. “Because she’s molesting your chair.”

At the risk of stating the obvious, Murfle-Flurgen promptly freaked, spitting out his mouthful of tea mid-sip. So shocked and appalled was he that his monocle popped right off his eyestalk, bounced across the table and right into the bowl of spinach dip. Brad immediately scooped the monocle out of the dip and ate it. (Don’t ask.)

All this did nothing to stop the young lass from continuing to violate their furniture. Murfle-Flurgen’s chair rattled so impressively that he was forced to turn around and address her directly: “Dammit, mammal, this chair is antique! Stop rubbing your disturbingly hairless crotch all over it!”

The girl looked at him with an optimistic smile. “I’ll stop if you agree to spank me.”

“What is it with you creatures and getting smacked on your posteriors?” Murfle-Flurgen exclaimed. “Is it a defect hard-wired into your genetic code? Can we not be left in peace for a single day without being propositioned for a game of grab-ass?”

“I told you, blame our biology’s innate magnetism,” said Akhrumnar.

Murfle-Flurgen glared at him with a random eyestalk. “You’re not helping.”

“So,” ventured the human female. “Maybe I’ll get a spanking?”

Murfle-Flurgen grumbled in deep irritation and tried to resist from taking his tentacles, wrapping them around her neck and throttling her. “Maybe,” he said, a forced smile on his face, “if you scamper off and leave me alone for a while.”

The girl peered over at his poker hand. “Will you do it after you beat everyone with your royal flush?”

All the other tentacle monsters groaned in exasperation and threw down their cards. “Fold!” they chorused.

Murfle-Flurgen grumbled as he stared down at the card table, muttering some rather choice words that can’t exactly be repeated here in English or Tentacleese. (And by no means should that word cause you to immediately think of John Cleese as a tentacle monster.) Very slowly, one of Murfle-Flurgen’s eyestalks swiveled back to the girl.

She grinned at him. “Now can I have my spanking? I earned it, right?”

“I loathe your species,” Murfle-Flurgen told her.













His lordship Chaos would like to once again thank:


Arisama, for ensuring that no porn ever transpired on the Hot Wet Planet. (For your tireless efforts, we salute you!)

Fandom Wank, for giving us all equal parts win, LOL and brain bleach: http://www.journalfen.net/community/fandom_wank/

Seiberwing, for bringing the Hot Wet Planet to the Hot Wank Planet.

Darren Mac Lennen, for what could quite possibly be the funniest analogy ever conceived, involving surfboards or otherwise.

Anonyrat, for advancing the field of Theoretical Research of Electromagnetic Crotch Polarization.

Fishes, for giving us some much-needed handlebar moustache love.

Tehrin, for daring to translate Hot Wet Planet logic into Earth logic and not having an exploded brain to show for it.

Uncle Ghastly & Glempf, for proving that tentacle monsters are people too. Check out Ghastly’s Ghastly comic at: www.ghastlycomic.com



--His lordship Chaos. (September 30, 2008)

Labels: Vive le Hot Wet Planet

posted by Phillip at 12:30 AM

 

Our District Manager and our handy/cynical maintenance guy Tom arrived at the store today. After taking one look at the new location, the best description of their facial expressions I can give you would be: Oh dear God!!! (And not in a Sunday worship service sort of way, either.)

The crux of it remains thus: our Head Office, being the cunning strategists that they are, decided to wait until 2 weeks before we must be out of our store to start planning how to renovate our temporary location. Of course, the magical upper management world in which they live does not exactly interact well with the laws of...well...reality.

You see, in order for our temp spot to be ready, the leftover bits from the previous owners need to be removed. And there's a lot of those, notably the half-circle of metal covering a good portion of one wall. Plus, we'll need to add in our own features: a cash desk, shelves, slat walls and more shelves. No matter how spectacular Tom's skills are, accomplishing all this in less than two weeks is...

...well, I have a better chance of all of you bowing down and sincerely proclaiming how sexy my ass is. That's how bad the odds are.

At the very least, my DM is starting to kick at the Head Office tires to get something thrown into motion. But she is rather frazzled over the fact that Head Office knew about this whole situation months ago, and has already had 2 weeks to start the revamping, if they so felt inclined.

And I can't exactly say this deal saddens or surprises me. After all, for the last three years I've seen how our Head Office handles the temporary winter kiosks (which is to say: badly). Soon enough we'll see if Tom devolves into "TOM SMASH!" mode and destroys Head Office for their sheer smegheadery, since he is the one who has to literally clean up after their procrastination.

I'll keep this little bit of nowhere updated as the incompetence and aggravation rolls in.

But in the meantime, there is meatloaf that must be consumed....

Labels: did he just make a joke about how unsexy his ass is?, the store move of doom

posted by Phillip at 5:00 PM

 


In the first full weekend I've had off since late July (ah, back to school, how you love to abuse me and my position), Mel & I have been partying it up in Brantford to help celebrate Gabe's birthday. Most notably, last night (Saturday) saw the party being held in the nearby camping/trailer grounds, complete with party guests, streamers, balloons, cake (not a lie, to flog the good ol' meme, but it was very tender and moist) and more delicious burgers & sausages than you can shake a pair of tongs at.

Now if you ask anyone else who was there, it was probably harder to tell who was the bigger kid in the group: Gabe and his 3 other guests, or me. We spent a good part of the evening creating art with Mr PotatoHeads (I had a 4-armed monstosity with a giant mouth filled with scary-looking teeth), creating more art by attempting to wear the Mr PotatoHead accessories, building giant Duplo towers and then smashing them apart, and running amok with not only balloons, but the collapsible tent-houses Kevin brought along.

Though it did devolve to a point where I wore the tent-house and chased all the kids around the campground for a half-hour. And as all encounters between a group of kinds and myself inevitably go, it ended with me being dogpiled. I myself had a blast, but damn, my thighs now despise me for all the piggybacking, squatting and hopping around. Any flexibility is gone, and a mighty protest erupts from my legs whenever I try to stand up.

All in all, a great party.

Aaaaand, as an added bonus, we had this converstion in the van as we returned home. Inside were Kevin, Dana, Mel, myself, Kevin's mom and Keanna (Gabe's 4 year-old partymate). Now Keanna is very whip-smart for her age when it comes to wit. So it shouldn't have come as much of a surprise as it did to hear...

Kevin: [to Dana] "Oh, did you remember our digital camera."

Dana: "I gave it to Phil."

Me: "Not to worry, it's here inside my coat pocket. I've been keeping it warm next to the radiance of my awesomeness. Would you like it back?"

Keanna: [without even pausing] "No, you can keep it."


Ladies and gentlemen, I just got burned by a 4 year-old. I think that's a new record/standard for me, and I have to say, I am rather impressed. (I had been setting the burn up for Dana or Mel, but to hear Keanna beat them to the punch...wow, I have a new apprentice to train. After all, six years ago Mel could barely get any sort of retort in no matter how brilliant an opening I left for her, and now she's nailing them even before I realize I've left the opening.)


Now if you'll excuse me, I'm starting to get horribly addicted to the music & lyrics for Repo: The Genetic Opera (helped in no small part to Anthony Stewart Head playing the eponymous character.) Between this and TV Tropes, my soul doesn't stand much of a chance. (Well, whatever part of it's left at least.)

Labels: Gabe's 4th birthday, no sexybaka--denied, wherein horrible overuses of parentheses ensue

posted by Phillip at 10:29 AM