The Blog of Spike Taylor - Part 2

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2 of Spike Taylor More exciting adventure as we hear a fat nerd whine about being forever alone, and we only care because he's a werewolf and it's approaching a full moon.

Oh and there may be something interesting in Palmerston North, clearly marking this as a work of fiction. (The next part will be in non-blog format because things will be happening.)


On The Road

Currently REDACTED (for my own safety and the safety of the kids), posting from my phone. Got one of the Intercity bus services from Whanganui to Palmerston North to stop outside my place (which is thankfully near enough to the highway that the kids and I could just walk down to the corner and wait), which saved me having to cart them in to town proper. I didn't exactly have snacks for the road, but it's only an hour so after a breakfast of cereal for them and leftover hamburgers for me, we played around a bit with more computer games until I figured we could head down to wait by the highway. The kids wanted to pet the animals, which I probably should have let them do last night, but it kind of seems mean given that there's a good chance I'll be eating some of them at some point.

The animals, I mean. Not the kids.

That's at least better than coming off as a pedo, right?

At least the sun's up now and so I don't have to worry about other stuff, but I've got one of my trigger things in a box in my pocket, just in case someone decides to pop over.

I really hope I don't get shot at.

I mean I'll have the kids, and I'm assuming that I'm safe if the kids are nearby. But these people aren't exactly known for their smarts.

Gang members, I mean. Not Maori. I'm not racist. I just don't like getting shot at by gangs. It's not my fault the gang leader is a Maori.

Fuck, why did I get dumped with these kids again?

Besides, all due respect for any group that gets colonized, but manages to get a deal in writing that they can hold over the Crown and the government. It always gives me a chuckle when people on the radio whine about compensation and land deals, but then you're the same type of white dumbasses who tried to get one over on them in the first place.

Which is totally not racist, because I too am a white dumbass.

Unless I'm a separate race because I'm a werewolf.

Fuck.

Anyway, I didn't get too many looks on the bus. Which might surprise you for some kind of local celebrity, but most people only see me in one of my other stages, where I look more wolfish and much more athletic than how I usually look. I mean, if I tell them my name, they might figure it out, but most people in Wanganui are pretty stupid. Plus if you look scraggly and poor enough then people really expect you to have a lot of kids.

And I can definitely pull of scraggly and poor.

The kids seemed pretty excited. I guess travelling anywhere is pretty novel for kids, but they behaved well enough. Plus there's a lot of farmland to look at, and small villages and towns to pass through, so there's a lot for them to look at. Eventually they relaxed, and maybe napped but at least stayed quiet.

I'm naturally a nervous wreck who thinks that the bus is full of gang members just waiting to shoot me. Thankfully it's only an hour or so to Palmerston North, so I didn't have to deal with that feeling for too long, and the trip was fine, with no dramas.

Well, okay, there was something, but once I've gotten rid of the kids I'll have a nose-around before catching one of the services back.

Now, I'm guessing most of the two of you who read this blog may not live in New Zealand, and even then may not have gone to Palmy, but when you come down from the north there's a small bridge over a wide ditch thing, and then some of the warehouses and probably factories and such that are on the outskirts, about where you see the "Welcome to Palmerston North" sign.

Well, when we passed over that bridge I definitely felt something else there that was magical, because I definitely felt some kind of stirring.

No, no, not that kind of stirring.

It's the same type of feeling I get when the moon's shining on me.

If you're not a lycanthrope or other similar thing, then apparently it's easiest to explain as that type of feeling you get when you're walking near power lines, only much stronger. Thankfully it wasn't enough to transform me on the bus - which I don't need to tell you would have been very bad when trying to travel incognito, and for the fact I'd been "bulking up" for much later on tonight - but it certainly got my attention.

Now this sometimes happens when there's stuff like meteorites or space debris that crashes down onto earth. Some space stuff has the same effect on "magical creatures" that the moon has, I guess because there's something similar. Other places on Earth have spots where you get that stuff triggering a lot too. But I've been to Palmerston North before and this is the first time I've felt that here.

That's kind of why I want to go have a look, because it might be that there's another person in Palmerston North who's like me.

You might be wondering about that. Why haven't all us "magical people" gotten together already and made a group or something?

It's the usual minority thing I guess: repression's still around, even though things have gotten a lot better (nobody's tried to rile up an angry mob against me for a while, at least), but that's not really the biggest problem. There's a whole mess of legal and ethical problems with a lot of stuff that isn't really properly sorted out which makes just living pretty difficult.

Ghosts, for example, if they're known they have to go on a list and wear monitoring things every day so they don't head into restricted areas. Plus they're usually drafted as spies so they probably don't even have their own private lives anyway.

And more at home: when and how far am I bound by human laws and laws associated with animals? I have to register myself as my own pet every year, because the number of lycanthropes is so low that special laws are a waste of taxpayer's time and money to implement. (I think it's also because the council wants extra money from me.) And we're not even getting into the fact my sex life is troubled by the chance that it may very well be bestiality no matter who I do it with, unless it were another werewolf, and even then it's complicated.

Oh well, at least I'm not like that centaur guy I talk to online occasionally. He can't go into any towns or cities because most buildings don't have "horseman friendly" entrances, and most buildings have ceilings that are too low.

So, yeah, we talk online, but when there's difficulty with travelling (most of us can't fly on planes since most airlines won't risk flying us) and most of us not exactly being wealthy enough to afford to travel or move anyway, it makes getting together difficult. And when you're naturally causing that much trouble you kind of don't want to cause any more so you try to be as normal as possible.

So if there's someone around there who's like me in at least some small respect then it'd be pretty cool even if they live an hour away.

It might not be, of course. But at the very least it might be a new spot of strangeness and if I can help find it then I can tell Dr. Keenan where it is, and he can tell Massey University and they can come dig it up or get it and analyse it.

Which could be really good if I wanted to go there. Be a good little doggy and show master where all the bones are buried, and doggy should get rewarded, right?

Surprisingly enough, I got some comments on my last journal entry. I'll try to answer your questions as best I can. Even though I am one, I'm not an expert on "magical creatures" by any means. But I probably know more than laymen and I can always ask Dr. Keenan to help find out the answers for me on those ones. And I can answer the other ones about me obviously enough.

First, I have a copy of that picture, but I don't really want to encourage people to look at it. Well, the picture I mean, but also the other. I'm sure you can find it online, and I've got a copy thanks, I don't need you sending me one, but yeah, I don't want to encourage people to look at.

But as far as you're probably going to know, it is always that big.

Second, to the girl/guy who asked me to email them: EDIT: Yeah, I know it's probably a spambot. But please understand that I do get weird come-ons (usually because of that picture) and while yeah, I'm much like the rest of you and would like all the normal things like a relationship or even a one-night stand, I also do not want anyone (myself or someone else) having to go to court on charges of bestiality because of it.

Third, FOR FUCK'S SAKE GO DIE IN A HOLE YOU CASTLECLIFF CUNTS! Just because you want to fuck your own dogs/mothers doesn't mean I do.

Anyway, the kids are getting bored and I'm getting pissed about people being late.

She told them I was a werewolf right?

They know it's a full moon tonight, right?

They know it's winter and so it gets dark early, right?

RIGHT?