Mr. Wobert

Awhhhhhhhhh damn!

Fri, 03 May 2013 06:55:08 -0600

Awhhhhhhhhh damn!

Now that’s the shit

Mon, 22 Apr 2013 07:39:22 -0600

Now that’s the shit

I fell over laughing……

Fri, 12 Apr 2013 10:29:32 -0600

I fell over laughing……

Photo

Fri, 05 Apr 2013 06:58:15 -0600

The blanket of darkness has engulfed the night sky. It is void of the twinkles of the heavens far...

Thu, 04 Apr 2013 00:54:05 -0600

The blanket of darkness has engulfed the night sky. It is void of the twinkles of the heavens far above thy eye. The road ahead is quiet and alone; it has been for quite some time with no response to the moan. Silence has filled the car’s cabin. The vessel continues forward, though no driver is at the wheel; he has been lost to vile tabun. The tires spin on and on and the engine idles along; both unaware of any destination to continue on. The hand trembles as it is unable to remain still. There is no sense of control, no sense of direction as there is no longer a hope of being healed. Tears stream with each passing night with no resolution before thy sight. Stronger men would be drawn to action, but I am scared of the selfish reaction. Hold, hold, hold the steering wheel; should have grasp at the last essence of the soul as it was peeled. There is nothing left, nothing to do, but wither away in the murky dew.

Movie Magic

Wed, 03 Apr 2013 21:05:40 -0600

Movie Magic

Hahahaha……… good fucking...

Mon, 18 Mar 2013 20:55:27 -0600

Hahahaha……… good fucking memories……

Dr. Neil deGrasse Tyson on the defunding of NASA. Remember to...

Sun, 17 Mar 2013 15:44:22 -0600

Dr. Neil deGrasse Tyson on the defunding of NASA.

Remember to dream

the-absolute-funniest-posts: dreamyboysgetprettygirls: THIS this...

Sat, 16 Mar 2013 18:56:43 -0600

the-absolute-funniest-posts:

dreamyboysgetprettygirls:

THIS

this is the only gif i’ll watch the whole way through

*sitting alone in my apartment laughing hysterically until tears come and the neighbors call social services*

//This came from a comic on dA.

i’ve been laughing at this for 78676712 years

My lovely followers, please follow this blog immediately!

senorspacely: Always reblog

Thu, 07 Mar 2013 22:09:01 -0700

senorspacely:

Always reblog

Good one

Sat, 16 Feb 2013 17:12:45 -0700

Good one

Photo

Sat, 16 Feb 2013 17:01:15 -0700

His name is Bruce.

Wed, 13 Feb 2013 19:45:22 -0700

His name is Bruce.

Photo

Sun, 27 Jan 2013 12:01:39 -0700

Photo

Sun, 20 Jan 2013 12:15:04 -0700

how to fight by Captain Kirk (ft. his best pupil) #and the ever...

Mon, 17 Dec 2012 20:43:13 -0700

how to fight by Captain Kirk (ft. his best pupil)

#and the ever popular ‘HALF-ASSED KARATE CHOP TO THE SHOULDER’ TECHNIQUES

MY FAVORITE KIRK MOVE

What’s awesome… none of these are in slow motion. That’s just how slow Kirk moves in combat. His style is called “Slow-Fu”.

It is the most unbeatable of fighting styles

He likes to give his opponent time to fully comprehend the ass kicking that is slowly but surely approaching them

Sometimes it’s hard to imagine what Western culture was like before Bruce Lee.

Honestly. We’d probably still be waiting for a Gorn punch to land if not for the beautiful, wonderful Bruce Lee.

For my TV, and Tumblr it seems....

Wed, 12 Dec 2012 21:03:30 -0700

For my TV, and Tumblr it seems....

Photo

Sun, 02 Dec 2012 16:00:06 -0700

Audio

Sat, 24 Nov 2012 01:19:09 -0700

To defeat the block...

Fri, 23 Nov 2012 02:17:17 -0700

You have to sometimes break the dam and tumble down the rabbit hole. Here is a bit of the sequel to my book that will hopefully start to blossom and be resurrected from the back burners of my mind.

Chapter Eighteen: A Last Stand

Swarms of fighters, darting in between the cruisers and frigates, exchange vicious fire. The smaller, weaker craft of our enemy valiantly fight for their lives and the lives of their families that cower in fear on the rocky planet off yonder. The starry view in front of me is filled with the multi-colored cannon fire of the fighters and their larger ships that have come to face us. They stand in defiance of our will and their fate. With asteroids floating freely around space, the fighters, their pitiful band of rabble and our easily sacrificed pawns, duel each other in passionate contests of bravery, sacrifice, heroism and ultimately, suicide. Their larger ships move carefully to avoid the chunks of rock and ice to positioning themselves across the space that is to be the battlefield. Their crafts and the debris of rock and ice is the pitiful defense they can muster. We will swat them from the stars.

I exhale slowly as I fully take in the battle. My meditation is undisturbed by the destruction and losses of life that fill space. The viewscreen comes to life with different displays as ships start to come into range. Our ship glides effortlessly toward them. We have nothing to fear as they start to fire. Their cannon fire fills the screen. Wave after wave smashes into our shields, but the ship does not stir; not a single tremor resonates. My mistress laughs at the useless display of firepower. She waves her hand in front of her with a smile. The armada of ships flanking us returns fire. Hordes of torpedoes and shells glide forward, laying waste to whatever is in the path. Ships burn and explode in a mass of plasma, steel, and flesh. It should be rather frightening to the psyche to see such merciless destruction to such silence, but the stillness of space offers no joyful audience to the orchestra of death and annihilation. Besides, there is nothing to fear when slaughtering gnats.

A squadron of fighters swoops through the ashes of one of their fallen comrade’s ships. They fire upon us in a pathetic attempt to attack. Luckily for them, their ships are too small for our armada’s volleys. They try a hit-and-run technique on our ship, but their weapons wouldn’t even tickle the skin of our ship if our ship was made of flesh and blood. Seeing the error in their disastrous offensive maneuver, the fighters try to scatter. Alas, it is our turn to show them how to attack. They swoop back and forth as they try to dodge the concise cannon fire of our ship, but it is futile. Their fighters turn to orbs of flame before becoming patches of charred innovation.

Chapter One: A Little Girl Amongst the Violence

I don’t really know how to start this. I was never the writing – or even talking – type; I was more of a quiet and shy kind of girl. Perhaps it is best to start at the end. No, that will not work. I can’t even express the range of emotions that run rampant through my soul. So much has happened, so much has changed. This has been a very dark chapter in my life. It’s the type that scars you. But to fully understand the events that have transpired and the future that has been born, I should start at the beginning. Yes, that is for the best. However, those were indeed the real dark times…

I don’t have very many memories of my childhood; none of them fond for that matter. Many of them have been banished into a hiding place somewhere deep within my troubled soul. That is where they all go. They go into that dark, locked away space where the running through darken alleys, the restless and petrified nights, the images of splattered blood, the dismembered and decapitated bodies, and all the fear, resides. But they never leave you, do they? No matter how deep they are buried away, they always bubble back to the surface. Alas, they make up who we are. With that being said, to call my younger years something of a “rough childhood” would be an understatement to say the least. The only fond memories I do have of it are of my mother. She raised me the best she could; even with the hellish and dark life she chose. I can almost remember her nowadays. It seems like so long ago when she was with me last. I can still remember the night I finally came to grasp her plight, and the plight I was cast into.

It was a stormy night if I remember it correctly. I was six – or maybe I was nine – at the time. It seems so long ago. Either way, I was just a mere little girl in a galaxy full of them. I wasn’t a princess in some castle on a heavenly, blissful planet somewhere, waiting for my prince to come sweep me off my feet. Nor was I a little girl that resided in the gutters on some rock thriving with tyranny. I was just a little girl, just an innocent adolescent, trying to find my rightful place in the universe. At the time, my place was usually at my mother’s left side; she always held her blood-coated rapier tightly against her right. I never could understand why she carried that blade with her at all times when I was young. She’d never let me touch its shiny metal – it looked so pretty to me at the time. I didn’t know how dangerous and powerful it truly was.

To go back to that night, there I was, curled up in the tiniest ball possible in the bed of a cheap motel room. I clutched my dolly, my companion amongst the terror, with an unbreakable grip. I tried to sleep, but every clash of lightning and the following roar of thunder would startle me awake. I was such a scared little girl. Mother couldn’t – wouldn’t – sleep either that night. Most nights, I’d be in her arms, cradled like a baby. That night, however, was one of the few nights I wasn’t in her arms. It was one of the worst nights; one of the bloody nights.

A flash of lightning lit up the room for an instant. At the foot of the bed, my mother sat silently in the dark. Her back was to me. She sat in the direction of the lone door of the room. It was as if she had turned into a statue made of stone. But I knew that her eyes weren’t just on the door; a small window in the wall was the only other accessible entrance to our room. There was another flash of lightning. The rumbling howl of the following thunder disturbed the room and stirred me again from my delicate, light slumber. I sobbed out softly, showing my disliking and fear of the storm outside.

“Mama?” I whimpered out from under the sheets, trying not to cry.

She answered me in her usual comforting voice I was used to before she even turned her head around to show me her kind face. “What is it baby?”

When I looked into my mother’s face, especially those kind eyes of hers, I immediately felt safer. It was like looking up at an angel and having her aura instantly cure me of my fear. She pushed the brown locks of her hair out of her face and gave me a small smile. Her smile could freeze the fieriest of rages, and warm the coldest hearts. I always felt better when she smiled at me. Slowly she climbed out of her chair and crawled across the bed on her hands and knees. She let out a soft giggle as she sat down next to me. I immediately shifted up against her side. She kissed the top of my forehead as I barely peeked my head out from under the blanket. “It’s alright my princess…. it is only thunder.”