Halls Of Valhalla
Galandathor
read my profile
sign my guestbook

Visit Galandathor's Xanga Site!

Name: Galandathor
Country: United States
State: California
Birthday: 8/22/1985
Gender: Male


Interests: I am an easy going person. I just try and deal with the all the weird shit that happens to me.
Occupation: Student
Industry: Other


Message: message meEmail: email me
Website: visit my website
AIM: Galandathor


Member Since: 5/5/2004

SubscriptionsSites I Read

Blogrings
   General Discussion and Topics
previous - random - next


Posting Calendar

|<< oldest | newest >>|
view all weblog archives

Get Involved!

Suggest a link

Recommend to friend

Create a site


Friday, March 04, 2005

" It was late one fall night at a fairground near town
When Esther first saw the Armenian man
Who groveled toward her and stood by her side
With a bucket that swung in his hand

His grin stretched the folds of his pasty white cheeks
And his lips hurled a dollop of murk on the curb
And the lights from the rides showed a mischievous sparkle
That flashed in his hollow eyed stare

He said "Little girl, you can chop off my legs
And then peel off my socks if you want to.
But I'd rather you took this old puppet from me
That I hold in my pail as we speak."

And he stood looking down at the innocent girl
And she stared at the bucket bewildered
Til he lifted the doll for the young girl to see
And a giant smile grew on his face
She saw the doll's eyes and she couldn't resist
And she thanked the man quickly and ran to the church
And she burst through the door with puppet held high
And a hush filled the chapel, and the people looked mean

Esther tried in vain to pacify the mob
Quibble grew to spat, to wrangle, then to brawl
The frenzied congregation struggled desperately to fetch
The pretty puppet snugly nestled deep in Esther's leather sack
Through the window of the church a storm began to rage
And Esther knew the time had come to flee

She scurried down the aisle toward the doorway in the distance
And out into the rainstorm where she felt she would be free
But the wind was blowing harder
And her skirt began to billow
Until finally her feet began to lift

And she rose above the people and the houses
And the chimneys
And Esther and the doll were set adrift
Floating higher over the hills, and the valleys and treetops
They'd flutter and glide
Soaring and turning suspended on air
With the earth far below them they'd tumble
And dive through the clouds

And she began to plummet earthward till she
Landed in the nasty part of town

She glanced about the village sure to find the evil men
Who rob and pillage in the darkest hour of night
Nervously she fumbled for the pouch that held the
Puppet on her rump.

Feeling quite outnumbered Esther hid behind
A nearby pile of lumber, where she waited
Till the dawn
Cause it would have been a blunder to
Succumb to a hoodlum on the prowl

When the morning came, she wandered through the streets
Along the chilly lake that lay beside the town
At last a peaceful moment, but she thought she heard a sound
It was an angry mob of joggers coming up to knock her down

As Esther stood and shook her head
The joggers were approaching
And she knew she had no choice left but to swim
As the frosty water sank its bitter teeth into her hide
She tried to slide the heavy clothing from her skin

Naked now she made her way toward the shore
When suddenly she felt a tiny tugging at her toe.
And the puppet she'd forgotten wrapped its tiny
Little arms around her ankle and wouldn't let her go.

The waves seemed to open and swallow her whole
As the doll pulled her down through the eerie green deep
And the sound of the laughing old man filled her ears
As she drifted away to a tranquil
And motionless sleep."

-Esther by Phish


Thursday, December 16, 2004

Bah.  Screw you people.  I feel that I should give the audience a show since there is possibly an audience now... (Begins to cry and starts undressing slowly)... I feel dirty on many more levels now.   I don't really know what to say.  I have finals tomorrow, German, Sociology, and Piano.  Piano is a sinch, I don't care about Sociology, but I am starting to sweat about German.  It might not be as easy as I am expecting, but the hell with it, I aint studying I have more important things to do than spend my life growing old with you! Now Woman, stay awaaaaay, American Woman, listen to what I say-haaay!

 

Bah, I'm getting off on a tangent or just getting off, I don't know which.  If only the women did listen to me than I think things would be gettin' done 'round here.  Suicide perhaps?


Saturday, September 04, 2004

"I'm back, like Schwartzeneger in Terminator, like a boomerang and everythang, I'm BACK!"....

Words by the mighty Peter Frampton's comeback song, only truly fitting for such a return.  Much to say, little time to say it in.  I gotta go visit with my nephew now...just a hint...


Sunday, May 30, 2004

I am the Great Galandathor, you shall bow down and give me respect.  I was going to write about things that happened to me, but I changed my mind.  Instead, prepare yourself for the brief bullshit that belongs beside a bar. Also amazing alliteration. Enough of that.  My ultimate rule shall go unnoticed away. Like all of these short periods.  Now there is a thought!  SHORT PERIODS!  The world would definatly be a happier place. Now I'm not saying even to get rid of them completely, I mean men still need a reminder that domestic abuse is appropriate, however, shortening up the menstrating time frame here. After the first few minutes we get the idea, to lock the particular woman in a closet or an small enclosed room until she is done bleeding.

Hah.  Just a bit of fun, all you feminists don't get too offended.  I don't want my entire audience of myself to get scared off. Remember I AM THE GREAT GALANDATHOR.


Friday, May 28, 2004

Well whoop dee freaking doo.

I HATE YOU.

Well tra la la la la

suck my lulla

The other day I had a bunch of errands to run since I am such an important person.  First off I had to make photocopies, just 3.  Now I figure its on my way to get my paycheck from work so I'll stop and do it at the grand kinkos.  Little did I know that it was my ass and I'll was Kinkos:  I HATE kinkos, atleast now I do.  I step inside, and the last time I was in a kinkos they had these big blocks you penetraded in the side of the machines to get copies.  It would mark off on a counter for each copy you did.  That was then, this is now.  I don't see those fucking boxes anywhere.  I don't see any instructions or guides, for I would assume the establishment would have many easy to read signs idiots as myself, as well as for the idiots of the world. However to my dismay no signs anywhere.

That means I have to ask Natasha, the older than dirt, dust leaking from vagina russian immigrant who appearently at her ripe age still gets PMS. For she had a bad disposition and needed an attitude adjustment.  Anybody who knows that songs wins a cookie and a slap on the back.  So yadda yadda yadda, I get head and the bum goes on whistling a different tune.

Which leads me to my next point, WTF! A buddy of mine, who will go undisclosed for you pedophilles out there (www.heyhomie.com), recently read my xanga and said that it is pointless. I AGREE. This IS pointless and NO ONE reads it! HAH! WHAT NOW BITCH?!  This is a waste of space and I am pathetic for writing it, and you readers are moooore pathetic for commiting (even for a few seconds) these words for memory. 

"You all go to hell, you go to hell and you die!"

-Mr. Garrison, South Park.



Next 5 >>