Be SURE to watch it all the way to the end, it's WELL worth the wait!!!!

http://www.albinoblacksheep.com/flash/llama

Be it known to all, that we Trolls be the guardians of nature. We be charg'd with the duty of protecting the purity of the perfect imperfection that be all that be outside thy door.

Aeons ago, mankind threw a gauntlet into the face of Mother Nature by building the first bridge, thus breaking natural boundaries set by rivers which Nature, in her wisdom, had plac'd.

In response to this, we Trolls got created, to police these breaches, and regulate the traffick there of. Hence our age old association with the bridge. A practical home, after all. We were oft the only ones with running water! But I digress.

In faith, all this be all rudimentary. As plain as the fact that what to humans be metaphorical, be reality for we creatures of the fae! None the less, all of this be important to this story, so t'was needed to be said.

Me story happen'd once upon a time many centuries ago, long before any of thee were born, or even thy grandfathers where a glimmer in the eye of their own fathers.

There I was, sitting beneath a fine and sturdy bridge made of good wood, and strong stone. With spiders weaving nets to catch their supper, and breezes from on far that let the mind to wander. The stream, t'was strong and brave, and it spoke well of tales untold that only those who have an ear to listen can hear. To one side of the bridge were the highlands, majestic in their loftiness yet sparce of growth, and to the other side were the lowlands, vast and plentiful with rich green grass and clover flagging in the breeze as far as the human eye could see. Indeed, all was well and good.

But this picture of calm was disturb'd by the sound of cloven hooves on the wood of the bridge coming from the highlands, as such as my duty was, I climbed up to investigate. Before me stood a Goat, larger than any thou wouldst see these days, and it did look upon me with eyes of contempt. It had wool like clouds, and horns that did shine as of gold, and eyes the color of the sky.
"Who dares to cross me bridge?" I demanded, as we were instructed to ask.
"I be a Goat of the Gruff, EXPECTATION be my name. I demand that thou shoudst step aside and let me pass into the lowlands!", replied the goat in a manner most proud.
"Hold creature," I retorted, "Thou may not pass without paying toll."
"Thy toll be forth coming, Troll, for soon comes my brother, and he shall pay the lot!" he said with a sneer. And youth and inexperience did what it does, and I did allow the goat to pass into the lowlands.

A short time later, I heard the sound of cloven hooves again, only much more heavy that then first. I climbed up again to find a Goat, even larger than the last. Clumps of wools were missing from the sides of it, moldy horns, and it did have eyes of red. With it came the rain.
"Who dares to cross me bridge?" stated I, as a soldier.
"I be a Goat of the Gruff, WORRY be my name. I believe that my brother be expecting me in the lowlands, and one should ne'er keep EXPECTATION waiting!", replied the goat in a manner meek yet troubling.
"Hold creature," I said, "Thou may not pass without paying toll."
"Thy toll be forth coming, Troll, for soon comes my brother, and he shall pay the lot!" he said with a shiver, causing more wool to fall to the ground. And pity and sympathy did what it does, and I did allow the goat to pass into the lowlands.

A short time later, I heard and felt the sound of cloven hooves again, this time causing the sturdy wood to splinter and moan! I rushed up again to find a Goat, more large than human imagination can see. It had wool as of black steel, and horns of flame, and it did have eyes of ghostly white. With it came the storm.
"Who dares to cross me bridge?" I shouted over the thunder.
"I be a Goat of the Gruff, FEAR be my name. I shall pass thee and into the lowlands!", replied the goat with a voice of a mountain.
"Hold creature," I said, "Thou may not pass without paying toll."
The Goat said not a word, it only smiled as pure evil does. Staring at me with those eyes of death. And as thunder cracked, so did the goat, knocking me far over the side of the bridge, and into the raging stream. For a brief flash I saw me bridge, destroyed, as the stream carried me away.

The moral of this tale is this: if thou doth allow EXPECTATION, WORRY, and FEAR to walk all over thee; then even thy sturdiest foundations shall fall.

THE NIGHT BEFORE IK'SMAS
by: IK the Troll
based on Clement Clark Moore's "The Night Before Christmas"
with apologies to anyone who really really liked it that way



                  T'was the night before IK'smas, when all through the house
                  Not a creature was stirring, save a few tiny louse;
                  The children were hung by the chimney with care,
                  Some by their feet, and some by their hair;

                  The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
                  'Til nailed to the mantle by their toes and their heads;
                  A half pint of NyQuil, as a winter's night-cap,
                  I'd just settled down for a long winter's nap

                  When up from the basement there arose such a splat,
                  I sprang from the bed, and yelled, "What the Hell's that?"
                  Away down the stairwell I tripped like a flash,
                  Tore open my lip and got a great gash.

                  The moon was distorted, reality wreck'd
                  I knew that the NyQuil had taken effect,
                  When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
                  But a big snotty troll, with a foul smelling sneer,

                  With a ghastly complexion, so putrid and sick,
                  I knew in a moment it must be ol' IK.
                  He stubbed his big toe, as closer he came,
                  And he cursed all his fathers, and called them by name;

                  "Damn, KYRKEN! damn, POOPIN! damn, REGIS! and ZITSEN!
                  Oh BURPIN! oh FARTEN! oh, GUANO! and NIXON!
                  My toes are too big, and my brain is too small!
                  Oooh damn you! Damn you! to Hell with you all!"

                  As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
                  When they meet to an obstacle, mount to the sky,
                  So up the stairwell, to get out, I flew,
                  To get quite away from that man made of goo.

                  And then, in a twinkling, I heard from the stair
                  Him prancing and pawing and twisting his hair.
                  As I drew a daggar, and was turning around,
                  Out the stairwell ol' IK, alas, came with a bound.

                  He was covered with fur, from his head to his foot,
                  And his tusks were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
                  A bundle of boys he had flung on his back,
                  And he looked like he wanted just one more fresh snack.

                  His eyes -- how they watered! his pimples how crusty!
                  His horns were all crooked, his clothes were all musty!
                  His big drooling mouth was drawn up like a bow,
                  And the beard of his chin smelled just like yellow snow;

                  The stump of a leg he held tight in his teeth,
                  And the stench encircled his head like a wreath;
                  He had a broad face, and a big lumpy bell-o,
                  That shook, when he farted, like three week old Jell-O.

                  He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old troll,
                  And I screamed when I saw him, and lost bladder control;
                  The squint of his eye and the twist of his head,
                  Soon gave me to know I had plenty to dread;

                  He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
                  Ate all the children; then turned with a jerk,
                  And digging his finger way up in his nose,
                  And breaking great wind, up the chimney he rose;

                  He landed somewhere like a Patriot missile,
                  Where, no doubt he's a pain, like the thorns of a thistle.
                  But I heard him exclaim, ere he flew out of sight,
                  "HAPPY IK'SMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD FRIGHT!"

LET'S PACK THE SEATS, PEOPLE!!!!

My new friend MICHAEL WINSLOW is coming to "Decades" Nightclub in Conyers, GA on December 20th and 21th for a "Christmas Comedy Special"!

You may remember Michael for his hilarious work in the "Police Academy" movies, and "Spaceballs" (and yes, he's the one you're already thinking about - the guy who can make all those amazing noises with his mouth!). If you have not yet seen his Jimi Hendrix impression (in which he does Jimi and his guitar at the same time!), you've missed out on something INCREDIBLE! None the less, we ALL need to go see his show!

Decades Nightclub is located at 1211 Royal Drive, Conyers, GA. Doors will open at 8pm, and the shows will start at 9pm. For more info, including ticket prices, call 770-760-9464. www.conyersnightlife.com

I plan to be there both nights myself. Let me know if you wanna go, and if you wanna carpool.