[365] Day Four : Defending the Elixir

February 11, 2012, by

Day Four : Defend­ing the Elixir

Lunchtime Gam­ing Ses­sion, Brook­lyn, Ohio

“I, Tulo, defy you. You shall not have it. This elixir belongs to my mas­ter, Señor Philippe de Peron. He prizes it more than the gold in a dragon’s cave, more than the sun in the sky.

‘Tulo,’ he tells me, ‘I must leave for a time. Some may come seek­ing my pre­cious elixir. You must defend it with your very life.’

My life, it is not much, but it is all I have, so I lis­ten to my mas­ter. I kiss his ring. I take this vow.

So now you come. You face me. You tell me you want a taste of Mas­ter Señor Philippe de Peron’s glow­ing potion.

¡No! I stand between you with these blades of Toldeo steel and a heart filled with honor.

You shall not have it.

Make peace with your gods, vil­lain, for you are about to meet them. YYAAAAAAAAHHHRRRRRRRGGHHH!!!”

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[365] Day Three : Written In Stone

February 10, 2012, by

Day Three : Writ­ten In Stone

Brook­lyn, Ohio

The man takes no notice of me when he walks into the office. He looks tired, as usual. He sits down, boots up his com­puter, waits for his email pro­gram to load. He sips his cof­fee and checks his phone for…what? Twit­ter notices? New email? His sched­ule for the day?

What­ever it is, he glances back up at his screen when email becomes avail­able. The look on his face is slightly glazed: he has not yet left to get cof­fee. His brow creases as he reads the email, then smooths as he moves past it.

One day is much as the next. I do not know why I have been assigned to this one, but I’m sure my supe­ri­ors have good rea­sons for mak­ing me watch him. I record my find­ings on my stone tablet, send­ing the infor­ma­tion through the aether to She Who Watches All Things.

He sighs and locks his desk­top, then wan­ders off on some errand or another. I watch him get lost in the maze of cubicles.

I sit. I record. I wait for him to return.

[365] Day Two : Recovery Salad

February 9, 2012, by

Day Two : Recov­ery Salad

Souper Mar­ket, Lake­wood, Ohio

“Ras­silon demands pro­tien,” Mike said as we walked out the door.

“Ras­silon demands roughage,” I coun­tered, zip­ping my coat closed to ward off the cold wind. “We didn’t overdo it last night, but the food we had was pretty rich. I haven’t had any­thing that heavy in a while.”

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[365] Day One : A Fine Tuesday Night

February 7, 2012, by

This is the first pic­ture from my 365 days of pho­tog­ra­phy project. You can fol­low along here or by fol­low­ing the project on Flickr.

Day One : A Fine Tues­day Night

The Great Lakes Brew­ing Com­pany, Ohio City

“What are you doing tonight? I need to get out,” Mike tweeted at me. Tues­day is usu­ally my game night, but with the host­ess feel­ing unwell, I was up for a night out with a good friend. After work, we drove down to West 25th Street in Ohio City, home of the Great Lakes Brew­ing Com­pany and a num­ber of other fine bars and restaurants.

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The Old Irish Cold Remedy, For Wives

February 7, 2012, by
New_Jameson_Bottle

Today in The Secret Lair, I reveal an ancient Irish cold rem­edy, passed down in my fam­ily for generations.

You will need:

  • 1lb of Corned Beef
  • 2 slices of hearty wheat bread
  • Four slices of Dublin Cheddar
  • Horse­rad­ish
  • The Peel of Two Lemons
  • Duct Tape
  • A plas­tic bag (1 gal­lon sized)
  • 3–5 cups of Jameson’s Irish Whiskey (unless bet­ter can be found), com­bined with 1–4 tsps of lemon juice and 1–4 tbsps of honey.
  • A box of Steel-Cut Irish Oatmeal

Read more in the Lair.