Category Archives: Helm of the Fierce Bison

Whereby I become a meme.

IMG_2039

This is a true story.

The other day, I was walking our puppy with CD Rogue. Don’t get too excited. I haven’t taken a walk in two days. Anyway, I’m on break, and that means I barely shower. Putting on a bra is the height of accomplishment. And I learned something about myself: if I don’t put on under garments, I am incapacitated. I can’t move. No bras are my kryptonite.

But I digress.

Anyway, I’m walking, and bundled up with the hodgepodge of coats, gloves, scarves, etc. at my disposal. Looking stylish is not my goal. Nor is, apparently, minding my head wear. So yes, I donned the Helm of the Fierce Bison.

My coat is my black velvet swing coat, which on good days I look like a beautiful enchantress, but on bad days, like this particular day, I look like a lost and elderly black bear who’s out of Pall Mall cigarettes and scotch. My scarf is the Hello Kitty menagerie, and an over-wrap to add a certain panache to the whole ensemble. Striding as a Guardian of the Walk, the Helm of the Fierce Bison.

As we’re rounding the last bend, the last quarter stretch before home, there is a stop sign that affects one lane: all the other lanes have free pass to go, so naturally we’re always really careful at this corner. A red Subaru stops, and we’re thinking it’s waiting for us to pass.

We wait, and wait.

And then CD Rogue says, “She was taking a picture of you.”

That. Happened.

So somewhere out in the digital world is the most unflattering photograph of a middle-aged lady, or bear, who appreciates Hello Kitty scarves and animal millinery.

Be kind in your comments. I can take it. I have a bra on.

 

 

Eight-ball

monkeys evil

 

 

 

 

 

Et tu, Tome? Oh no – it’s happening. Betas going out, folks posting about WoD, and I am having to avoid reading my favorite blogs because I don’t want to know anything. See anything. Think about anything. I am in blissful ignorance. Actually, I don’t blame Tome one bit. She is my sister of the Helm of the Fierce Bison clan, after all, and those bonds run deeper than garrison posts or Khadgar fashion. Way deeper. No one gets between me and my Tome.

Helm of the Fierce Bison
Helm of the Fierce Bison Sisterhood

But let me tell you something about ignorance: it is expensive. Take for example how many times I was taking items in and out of the void bank, paying high interest rates, when young leet druid told me that that had been fixed long ago, that you can just tab on a button while in the dressing room of mog and see all of your gear/fashion. /stupidme And there was something else that happened recently where I did something so stupid, simply because I wasn’t keeping up with WoW Insider news recently. I cannot keep up with it all, and monitor social feeds and other news. I just can’t. Yesterday I started my writing workshop at a location far, far away from home, and I thanked the gods that I had a place away, yet, when it was over and I was waiting for CD Rogue to pick me up, I found that I could play Hearthstone. Oh. No. No. No. No.

Let me confess right here and now what I love about Hearthstone the very most, and when I told Dahahka he said something about me truly being an evil nerd:

If only I had this in real life...
If only I had this in real life…

 

When I play a Warlock, and the other side places all their goodies on their table, buffed up, doubled up, exponentially awesome, and whether I am about to win or lose (cause you never know in Hearthstone: you could be at 1 health, and still rally), but it’s probably certain I am going to lose, I play this amazing card, and BOOOOOOOOOOM – but here is the nerd part: I will laugh maniacally out loud. Like a cute baby in a video. Like a witch with a freshly waxed broom. Like a crazy woman off her meds. (No one I know, that’s for sure.) It is the most cathartic, deeply satisfying moment in almost any game I’ve played.

I win! (Even if I lose.)
I win! (Even if I lose.)

 

Kubla Matty

HOT-Fab, Limerick style:
There once was a shaman named Matty
Who believed herself to look quite knatty
Though the HOTFB some may mock
She thought she was kind of a jock
Even if the reality was damn tatty
In Azeroth did Mataoka
A Helm of Fierce Bison decree
Where Yan-Zhe the sacred river ran
Though dailies measureless to man
Down to a fatiguing sea
So twice five flight paths of dark soil ground
With dungeons and towers were girdled round:
And here were the gardens filled with herbs and rills*
Where humming violet light of Crystalsong’s tree
And here were forests ancient as the Grizzly Hills,
Enfolding treasures of gear of greenery
But oh! That deep romantic knitted cap which slanted
Down the long brown hair athwart a noggin cover!
A savage place! As holy and enchanted
A e’er beneath a waning moon was daunted
By a woman wailing for her stolen golden clover!
And from this noggin, with ceaseless hubris seething
As if this earth in Borean leather pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain of Sha was forced:
Amid whose swift windshear’d burst
Huge fragments vaulted like dismounted hail
Or chaffy plagued grains in dungeon’s flail;
And ‘mid these dancing elfs at once and ever
It nerfed the hunter’s once-useful quiver.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through pixels and bytes the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to ogre-man
And sank in tumult, without any breathing potion
And all who hear should see her there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
Her flashing eyes and messed-up hair
Weave a circle ‘round her like Mike Tyson
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For she on bosses’ hides hath fed,
And herald the Helm of the Fierce Bison!

Magical thinking…

I’m off again to Seattle for most of the day, finding solo activites to pass my time, and am bringing my rusty, sake-spit laptop (that’s sock-kay, yes the one I choked on a shot of sake one night and messed up the keyboard).

Seriously – this waking up at 430 or 445 has got to STOP. I know it’s a combination of stress, genetics, and well, not sure what else, but it’s starting to make me a little bonkers. I mean, damn, I have often joked that in a past life I was a milkmaid, some kind of lowly peasant, but this carry-over is getting on my last nerve. Oh well.

But what cheers me is Navimie wrote a poem about my epic Helm of the Fierce Bison, or my and Tome’s HOT-FAB.

The Helm of Fierce Bison’s misleading
Won’t give me protection I’m needing
It looks cute on my head
But no use if I’m dead
Or lying there crippled and bleeding.

I think there’s is a rebuttal in me; hopefully I won’t be too sleepy to get it out! I’ll sit on a street corner in Seattle, wearing the helm, and see if anything comes to mind!

Keeping the crazy in…

Pretty much sums up my inner mindset right now.

I was trying to keep it under my hat, but since Tome went and decided to put a Goth Bratz doll and show off her Helm of the Fierce Bison on her blog, well I guess now the story can be told.

Yes, the only souvenir I bought for someone else besides myself or a family member was the Helm of the Fierce Bison for Tome. In turn, she sent me a Spectral Porcupine. It’s lovely. It’s shiny. It sparkles and makes me happy. When I found the HOTFB – yes, now it shall be the acronym HOT-B, it was in a little shop by the only diner in Yellowstone that had a half-decent burger. I am warning you all now: the food in Yellowstone has much to be desired. Many of the food services are run by privatized companies that know that travelers have no options, consumer voice, or “vote with their dollar” rights. I’m not saying the US Government could have done better, but the food and lodging SUCKS. It’s overpriced, small portions, and worse than most school lunches. That’s right: WORSE THAN A SCHOOL LUNCH. The cheese fries CD Rogue ordered were covered in something that may at one time been 1% dairy and 99% snot. No joke. When an establishment can’t even do fake hot cheese right…we are all truly going to Hell.

Did I mean to go on a rant about privatization of our natural resources? No. Sorry. I’ll write my congress people a strongly worded letter. Sure. Right after this next LFR.

Anyway, I bought my own HOTFB at a small shop, and the next day when we were leaving, and I saw how much Tome appreciate my creative millinery mastery, I knew I had to pick one up for her too. I perused the sounvenir shop by our lodge (this is after creepy hotel clerk guy, so I was a little shaken) and the only knit cap was a moose. A moose? A moose will not do. No. Not a moose. MUST BE BISON! I went ahead and purchased the moose, and then –no — not going to happen — this is about to turn into the longest, most boring anecdote ever written, and will put such a debuff of ennui and sadness on you all, you will walk around the rest of the day wondering why you wasted your life, and where did it all go horribly wrong?

Fast-forward: it took three clerks to go into the depths of the shop to find another HOTFB, and twenty minutes of wait time. It was worth it though — every minute. To obtain the HOTFB for Tome, and know that she would wear it in health and hotness while walking her pups, that no one would mess with her, and that like me, wearing this helm would keep THE CRAZY IN…(did you know it did that Tome? It does.).

Tome: I knew you would appreciate it. Now don’t tell Blizzard how much you like it, or they’ll put it in their hat store, and everyone will want one, and we won’t get anything. 

In other news: I went to a “real” raid Tuesday and Wednesday, and might go tonight, with Mataoka as a healer. I am so used to rolling my coins on gear that I accidentally rolled and won the Tortos’ shield and it dropped anyway. NOOOOOOOB!

I really like it, and it’s way better than LFR, and I know Allysia is being patient with me, but but but…just so much of this game I can’t and don’t want to do solo, and so many more things I do want to. Better go find my helm, cause the crazy is leaking….

Theme Song: Go It Alone/Beck