Lord Buss (yes, despite what everyone thinks, that is his right name, and true nature) opens his new notebook. A bright orange notebook (he wouldn’t have bought it if it wasn’t). His recently favorite color (previously red, but red is so boring, actually, when you think about it seriously). The color of fire. And tigers. And the sun. And fire-tigers. Like the one D&D monster he saw a month ago. Though it was a 3e monster, and thus useless, he doesn’t get 3e.
Anyway, notebook in a perfect color, in which he can start writing things.
The (cool and orange!) cover is plastic, not paper, so he can’t write on it. Usually he doodles his standard pictures, which are very ugly smiley cat faces, and Orichalcos unicursal hexagrams.
But he can do that later, better start with writing. As he has a an idea of what to do with the notebook’s first page.
Specifically, write his Creation Myth. One he came up with long ago, but decided to formulate this way only now.
Buss takes a pen (not pencil, he can’t write with them, screw pencils), and begins to write, in an extremely weird way: in Russian, an exaggeratedly poetic one, intertwined with slang, and using a different alphabet, because he sucks at actually writing cyrillic letters. The result is basically unreadable even to him, but it’s the thought that counts. It’s something between a joke and avant-garde art.

And about 5 thousand years from the creation of the Earth, ⠮♊❅←◇♪  ▧◉𓃮◲↬?⠿⇞ ▶ shall stand, and say: let me make a thought, in my image and likeness. And the thought shall exist because I thought it. And the thought shall create other thought, to exist. And will exist because of them.
And the thought shall take form, and become Buss, god of cats.
Writing is hard, he does it slowly. Thoughts in his head always form much faster than he is able to express in writing or even speech. He is planning to write the next line: and Buss said “let there be something cool!”. And there was something cool. But Buss said “what the hell is this? Super creepy. I take it back, actually” and the thing was no more.
It’s funny. A subversion! Though not very clever one. But he doesn’t really expect any of his ideas to be clever, which doesn’t mean he shouldn’t write them. (Except Buss. Buss is the cleverest idea ever, by definition)
He is not fast enough to start anything but the first line. Because the thing he was waiting for all his life, and which is especially appropriate at that moment, is finally true. A magic happens.

Lord Buss (yes, despite what everyone thinks, that is his right name, and true nature) opens his new notebook. A bright orange notebook (he wouldn’t have bought it if it wasn’t). His recently favorite color (previously red, but red is so boring, actually, when you think about it seriously). The color of fire. And tigers. And the sun. And fire-tigers. Like the one D&D monster he saw a month ago. Though it was a 3e monster, and thus useless, he doesn’t get 3e.
Anyway, notebook in a perfect color, in which he can start writing things.
The (cool and orange!) cover is plastic, not paper, so he can’t write on it. Usually he doodles his standard pictures, which are very ugly smiley cat faces, and Orichalcos unicursal hexagrams.
But he can do that later, better start with writing. As he has a an idea of what to do with the notebook’s first page.
Specifically, write his Creation Myth. One he came up with long ago, but decided to formulate this way only now.
Buss takes a pen (not pencil, he can’t write with them, screw pencils), and begins to write, in an extremely weird way: in Russian, an exaggeratedly poetic one, intertwined with slang, and using a different alphabet, because he sucks at actually writing cyrillic letters. The result is basically unreadable even to him, but it’s the thought that counts. It’s something between a joke and avant-garde art.

And about 5 thousand years from the creation of the Earth, ⠮♊❅←◇♪  ▧◉𓃮◲↬?⠿⇞ ▶ shall stand, and say: let me make a thought, in my image and likeness. And the thought shall exist because I thought it. And the thought shall create other thought, to exist. And will exist because of them.
And the thought shall take form, and become Buss, god of cats.
Writing is hard, he does it slowly. Thoughts in his head always form much faster than he is able to express in writing or even speech. He is planning to write the next line: and Buss said “let there be something cool!”. And there was something cool. But Buss said “what the hell is this? Super creepy. I take it back, actually” and the thing was no more.
It’s funny. A subversion! Though not very clever one. But he doesn’t really expect any of his ideas to be clever, which doesn’t mean he shouldn’t write them. (Except Buss. Buss is the cleverest idea ever, by definition)
He is not fast enough to start anything but the first line. Because the thing he was waiting for all his life, and which is especially appropriate at that moment, is finally true. A magic happens.

Lord Buss (yes, despite what everyone thinks, that is his right name, and true nature) opens his new notebook. A bright orange notebook (he wouldn’t have bought it if it wasn’t). His recently favorite color (previously red, but red is so boring, actually, when you think about it seriously). The color of fire. And tigers. And the sun. And fire-tigers. Like the one D&D monster he saw a month ago. Though it was a 3e monster, and thus useless, he doesn’t get 3e.
Anyway, notebook in a perfect color, in which he can start writing things.
The (cool and orange!) cover is plastic, not paper, so he can’t write on it. Usually he doodles his standard pictures, which are very ugly smiley cat faces, and Orichalcos unicursal hexagrams.
But he can do that later, better start with writing. As he has a an idea of what to do with the notebook’s first page.
Specifically, write his Creation Myth. One he came up with long ago, but decided to formulate this way only now.
Buss takes a pen (not pencil, he can’t write with them, screw pencils), and begins to write, in an extremely weird way: in Russian, an exaggeratedly poetic one, intertwined with slang, and using a different alphabet, because he sucks at actually writing cyrillic letters. The result is basically unreadable even to him, but it’s the thought that counts. It’s something between a joke and avant-garde art.

And about 5 thousand years from the creation of the Earth, ⠮♊❅←◇♪  ▧◉𓃮◲↬?⠿⇞ ▶ shall stand, and say: let me make a thought, in my image and likeness. And the thought shall exist because I thought it. And the thought shall create other thought, to exist. And will exist because of them.
And the thought shall take form, and become Buss, god of cats.
Writing is hard, he does it slowly. Thoughts in his head always form much faster than he is able to express in writing or even speech. He is planning to write the next line: and Buss said “let there be something cool!”. And there was something cool. But Buss said “what the hell is this? Super creepy. I take it back, actually” and the thing was no more.

It’s funny. A subversion! Though not very clever one. But he doesn’t really expect any of his ideas to be clever, which doesn’t mean he shouldn’t write them. (Except Buss. Buss is the cleverest idea ever, by definition)
He is not fast enough to start anything but the first line. Because the thing he was waiting for all his life, and which is especially appropriate at that moment, is finally true. A magic happens.

Lord Buss (yes, despite what everyone thinks, that is his right name, and true nature) opens his new notebook. A bright orange notebook (he wouldn’t have bought it if it wasn’t). His recently favorite color (previously red, but red is so boring, actually, when you think about it seriously). The color of fire. And tigers. And the sun. And fire-tigers. Like the one D&D monster he saw a month ago. Though it was a 3e monster, and thus useless, he doesn’t get 3e.
Anyway, notebook in a perfect color, in which he can start writing things.
The (cool and orange!) cover is plastic, not paper, so he can’t write on it. Usually he doodles his standard pictures, which are very ugly smiley cat faces, and Orichalcos unicursal hexagrams.
But he can do that later, better start with writing. As he has a an idea of what to do with the notebook’s first page.
Specifically, write his Creation Myth. One he came up with long ago, but decided to formulate this way only now.
Buss takes a pen (not pencil, he can’t write with them, screw pencils), and begins to write, in an extremely weird way: in Russian, an exaggeratedly poetic one, intertwined with slang, and using a different alphabet, because he sucks at actually writing cyrillic letters. The result is basically unreadable even to him, but it’s the thought that counts. It’s something between a joke and avant-garde art.

And about 5 thousand years from the creation of the Earth, ⠮♊❅←◇♪  ▧◉𓃮◲↬?⠿⇞ ▶ shall stand, and say: let me make a thought, in my image and likeness. And the thought shall exist because I thought it. And the thought shall create other thought, to exist. And will exist because of them.
And the thought shall take form, and become Buss, god of cats.
Writing is hard, he does it slowly. Thoughts in his head always form much faster than he is able to express in writing or even speech. He is planning to write the next line: and Buss said “let there be something cool!”. And there was something cool. But Buss said “what the hell is this? Super creepy. I take it back, actually” and the thing was no more.

It’s funny. A subversion! Though not very clever one. But he doesn’t really expect any of his ideas to be clever, which doesn’t mean he shouldn’t write them. (Except Buss. Buss is the cleverest idea ever, by definition)
He is not fast enough to start anything but the first line. Because the thing he was waiting for all his life, and which is especially appropriate at that moment, is finally true. A magic happens.

[This thread is not ongoing; will be continued after 6 months, maybe. Or maybe never.]

Lord Buss (yes, despite what everyone thinks, that is his right name, and true nature) opens his new notebook. A bright orange notebook (he wouldn’t have bought it if it wasn’t). His recently favorite color (previously red, but red is so boring, actually, when you think about it seriously). The color of fire. And tigers. And the sun. And fire-tigers. Like the one D&D monster he saw a month ago. Though it was a 3e monster, and thus useless, he doesn’t get 3e.
Anyway, notebook in a perfect color, in which he can start writing things.
The (cool and orange!) cover is plastic, not paper, so he can’t write on it. Usually he doodles his standard pictures, which are very ugly smiley cat faces, and Orichalcos unicursal hexagrams.
But he can do that later, better start with writing. As he has a an idea of what to do with the notebook’s first page.
Specifically, write his Creation Myth. One he came up with long ago, but decided to formulate this way only now.
Buss takes a pen (not pencil, he can’t write with them, screw pencils), and begins to write, in an extremely weird way: in Russian, an exaggeratedly poetic one, intertwined with slang, and using a different alphabet, because he sucks at actually writing cyrillic letters. The result is basically unreadable even to him, but it’s the thought that counts. It’s something between a joke and avant-garde art.

And about 5 thousand years from the creation of the Earth, ⠮♊❅←◇♪  ▧◉𓃮◲↬?⠿⇞ ▶ shall stand, and say: let me make a thought, in my image and likeness. And the thought shall exist because I thought it. And the thought shall create other thought, to exist. And will exist because of them.
And the thought shall take form, and become Buss, god of cats.

Writing is hard, he does it slowly. Thoughts in his head always form much faster than he is able to express in writing or even speech. He is planning to write the next line: and Buss said “let there be something cool!”. And there was something cool. But Buss said “what the hell is this? Super creepy. I take it back, actually” and the thing was no more.
It’s funny. A subversion! Though not very clever one. But he doesn’t really expect any of his ideas to be clever, which doesn’t mean he shouldn’t write them. (Except Buss. Buss is the cleverest idea ever, by definition)
He is not fast enough to start anything but the first line. Because the thing he was waiting for all his life, and which is especially appropriate at that moment, is finally true. A magic happens.


[This thread is not ongoing; will be continued after 6 months, maybe. Or maybe never.]

Lord Buss (yes, despite what everyone thinks, that is his correct name, and true nature) opens his new notebook. A bright orange notebook (he wouldn’t have bought it if it wasn’t). His recently favorite color (previously red, but red is so boring, actually, when you think about it seriously). The color of fire. And tigers. And the sun. And fire-tigers. Like the one D&D monster he saw a month ago. Though it was a 3e monster, and thus useless, he doesn’t get 3e.
Anyway, notebook in a perfect color, in which he can start writing things.
The (cool and orange!) cover is plastic, not paper, so he can’t write on it. Usually he doodles his standard pictures, which are very ugly smiley cat faces, and Orichalcos unicursal hexagrams.
But he can do that later, better start with writing. As he has a an idea of what to do with the notebook’s first page.
Specifically, write his Creation Myth. One he came up with long ago, but decided to formulate this way only now.
Buss takes a pen (not pencil, he can’t write with them, screw pencils), and begins to write, in an extremely weird way: in Russian, an exaggeratedly poetic one, intertwined with slang, and using a different alphabet, because he sucks at actually writing cyrillic letters. The result is basically unreadable even to him, but it’s the thought that counts. It’s something between a joke and avant-garde art.

And about 5 thousand years from the creation of the Earth, ⠮♊❅←◇♪  ▧◉𓃮◲↬?⠿⇞ ▶ shall stand, and say: let me make a thought, in my image and likeness. And the thought shall exist because I thought it. And the thought shall create other thought, to exist. And will exist because of them.
And the thought shall take form, and become Buss, god of cats, and other things furthermore.

Writing is hard, he does it slowly. Thoughts in his head always form much faster than he is able to express in writing or even speech. He is planning to write the next line: and Buss said “let there be something cool!”. And there was something cool. But Buss said “what the hell is this? Super creepy. I take it back, actually” and the thing was no more.
It’s funny. A subversion! Though not very clever one. But he doesn’t really expect any of his ideas to be clever, which doesn’t mean he shouldn’t write them. (Except Buss. Buss is the cleverest idea ever, by definition)
He is not fast enough to start anything but the first line. Because the thing he was waiting for all his life, and which is especially appropriate at that moment, is finally true. A magic happens.


[This thread is not ongoing; will be continued after 6 months, maybe. Or maybe never.]

Lord Buss (yes, despite what everyone thinks, that is his correct name, and true nature) opens his new notebook. A bright orange notebook (he wouldn’t have bought it if it wasn’t). His recently favorite color (previously red, but red is so boring, actually, when you think about it seriously). The color of fire. And tigers. And the sun. And fire-tigers. Like the one D&D monster he saw couple months ago. Though it was a 3e monster, and thus useless, he doesn’t get 3e.
Anyway, notebook in a perfect color, in which he can start writing things.
The (cool and orange!) cover is plastic, not paper, so he can’t write on it. Usually he doodles his standard pictures, which are very ugly smiley cat faces, and Orichalcos unicursal hexagrams.
But he can do that later, better start with writing. As he has a an idea of what to do with the notebook’s first page.
Specifically, write his Creation Myth. One he came up with long ago, but decided to formulate this way only now.
Buss takes a pen (not pencil, he can’t write with them, screw pencils), and begins to write, in an extremely weird way: in Russian, an exaggeratedly poetic one, intertwined with slang, and using a different alphabet, because he sucks at actually writing cyrillic letters. The result is basically unreadable even to him, but it’s the thought that counts. It’s something between a joke and avant-garde art.

And about 5 thousand years from the creation of the Earth, ⠮♊❅←◇♪  ▧◉𓃮◲↬?⠿⇞ ▶ shall stand, and say: let me make a thought, in my image and likeness. And the thought shall exist because I thought it. And the thought shall create other thought, to exist. And will exist because of them.
And the thought shall take form, and become Buss, god of cats, and other things furthermore.

Writing is hard, he does it slowly. Thoughts in his head always form much faster than he is able to express in writing or even speech. He is planning to write the next line: and Buss said “let there be something cool!”. And there was something cool. But Buss said “what the hell is this? Super creepy. I take it back, actually” and the thing was no more.
It’s funny. A subversion! Though not very clever one. But he doesn’t really expect any of his ideas to be clever, which doesn’t mean he shouldn’t write them. (Except Buss. Buss is the cleverest idea ever, by definition)
He is not fast enough to start anything but the first line. Because the thing he was waiting for all his life, and which is especially appropriate at that moment, is finally true. A magic happens.


[This thread is not ongoing; will be continued after 6 months, maybe. Or maybe never.]

Lord Buss (yes, despite what everyone thinks, that is his correct name, and true nature) opens his new notebook. A bright orange notebook (he wouldn’t have bought it if it wasn’t). His recently favorite color (previously red, but red is so boring, actually, when you think about it seriously). The color of fire. And tigers. And the sun. And fire-tigers. Like the one D&D monster he saw couple months ago. Though it was a 3e monster, and thus useless, he doesn’t get 3e.
Anyway, notebook in a perfect color, in which he can start writing things.
The (cool and orange!) cover is plastic, not paper, so he can’t write on it. Usually he doodles his standard pictures, which are very ugly smiley cat faces, and Orichalcos unicursal hexagrams.
But he can do that later, better start with writing. As he has an idea of what to do with the notebook’s first page.
Specifically, write his Creation Myth. One he came up with long ago, but decided to formulate this way only now.
Buss takes a pen (not pencil, he can’t write with them, screw pencils), and begins to write, in an extremely weird way: in Russian, an exaggeratedly poetic one, intertwined with slang, and using a different alphabet, because he sucks at actually writing cyrillic letters. The result is basically unreadable even to him, but it’s the thought that counts. It’s something between a joke and avant-garde art.

And about 5 thousand years from the creation of the Earth, ⠮♊❅←◇♪  ▧◉𓃮◲↬?⠿⇞ ▶ shall stand, and say: let me make a thought, in my image and likeness. And the thought shall exist because I thought it. And the thought shall create other thought, to exist. And will exist because of them.
And the thought shall take form, and become Buss, god of cats, and other things furthermore.

Writing is hard, he does it slowly. Thoughts in his head always form much faster than he is able to express in writing or even speech. He is planning to write the next line: and Buss said “let there be something cool!”. And there was something cool. But Buss said “what the hell is this? Super creepy. I take it back, actually” and the thing was no more.
It’s funny. A subversion! Though not very clever one. But he doesn’t really expect any of his ideas to be clever, which doesn’t mean he shouldn’t write them. (Except Buss. Buss is the cleverest idea ever, by definition)
He is not fast enough to start anything but the first line. Because the thing he was waiting for all his life, and which is especially appropriate at that moment, is finally true. A magic happens.


[This thread is not ongoing; will be continued after 6 months, maybe. Or maybe never.]

Lord Buss (yes, despite what everyone thinks, that is his correct name, and true nature) opens his new notebook. A bright orange notebook (he wouldn’t have bought it if it wasn’t). His recently favorite color (previously red, but red is so boring, actually, when you think about it seriously). The color of fire. And tigers. And the sun. And fire-tigers. Like the one D&D monster he saw couple months ago. Though it was a 3e monster, and thus useless, he doesn’t get 3e.
Anyway, notebook in a perfect color, in which he can start writing things.
The (cool and orange!) cover is plastic, not paper, so he can’t write on it. Usually he doodles his standard pictures, which are very ugly smiley cat faces, and Orichalcos unicursal hexagrams.
But he can do that later, better start with writing. As he has an idea of what to do with the notebook’s first page.
Specifically, write his Creation Myth. One he came up with long ago, but decided to formulate this way only now.
Buss takes a pen (not pencil, he can’t write with them, screw pencils), and begins to write, in an extremely weird way: in Russian, an exaggeratedly poetic one, intertwined with slang, and using a different alphabet, because he sucks at actually writing cyrillic letters. The result is basically unreadable even to him, but it’s the thought that counts. It’s something between a joke and avant-garde art.

And about 5 thousand years from the creation of the Earth, ⠮♊❅←◇♪  ▧◉𓃮◲↬?⠿⇞ ▶ shall stand, and say: let me make a thought, in my image and likeness. And the thought shall exist because I thought it. And the thought shall create other thoughts, to exist. And will exist because of them.
And the thought shall take form, and become Buss, god of cats, and other things furthermore.

Writing is hard, he does it slowly. Thoughts in his head always form much faster than he is able to express in writing or even speech. He is planning to write the next line: and Buss said “let there be something cool!”. And there was something cool. But Buss said “what the hell is this? Super creepy. I take it back, actually” and the thing was no more.
It’s funny. A subversion! Though not very clever one. But he doesn’t really expect any of his ideas to be clever, which doesn’t mean he shouldn’t write them. (Except Buss. Buss is the cleverest idea ever, by definition)
He is not fast enough to start anything but the first line. Because the thing he was waiting for all his life, and which is especially appropriate at that moment, is finally true. A magic happens.


[This thread is not ongoing; will be continued after 6 months, maybe. Or maybe never.]