Betty Adams Tall Tales
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Alien Daze 2017 - Watch Out For "Dying Embers"

4/30/2017

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Watch out!
The aliens are coming to McMinnville, OR!

Well apparently they came several decades ago, looked around some of the local farms, spied on some rabbits. and then moseyed off into the sky. 
​
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But the only aliens you need to worry about are the one in "Dying Embers" that will be avaliable at NW Food and Gifts during the Festival. May 18th to 21st.

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What Even *IS* Creativity?

4/28/2017

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Arbor Day 2017
It's not for the faint of heart, not for everyone to manage creatives. - Gallery  Director 

It's not for everyone to be one! - Dr. Peterson 

What makes a creative person? Can it be tested for? Can you find them? If you can find them can you keep them without going mad?
​A leading mind on personality traits discusses creativity, what it is and what it means, at the National Gallery of Canada. 
Thanks to my lovely musician mom friend for pointing out this second video too. 
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Conversations of the Beasts - Odd Taste

4/26/2017

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Odd Taste

“I really think we should get back to the hive,” one suggested.
“What do you think we are trying to do?” grumbled another.
“I don’t know,” mused a third, raising his voice a bit to be heard over the gnawing that filled their prison, “this is not a bad tasting wax.”
“I don’t think this is wax at all,” complained the first voice. “It tastes of things long dead.”
“How could you say such a thing?” gasped the third. “We are not,” and its voice dropped in disgust, “carrion worms.”
“Of course not,” snapped a voice. “We are the precious daughters of the wandering queen. We eat only the finest golden produce of our mother’s slaves.”
“Well we have to eat it anyway,” said the third voice a bit sullenly. “So we might as well enjoy it is all that I am saying.”
“Enjoy it or not,” spoke up a new voice.
Then the prison shuddered and a great shadow fell over them.
“Eat quickly my sisters,” the new voice pressed them. “Eat quickly.” 


If it exists SOMETHING will eat it. 
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Word of the Week - Accredit

4/25/2017

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Accredit 

Verb: To attribute responsibility or achievement. 


We are going to accredit the very first human Survey Core Rangers this cycle. 
May be not live to regret this. 
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Humans are Weird - High Five

4/24/2017

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​Humans are Weird – High Five
“Are you very certain that you do not mind me lingering here?” Twistunder asked of his human companion.
“Nah,” Corporal Bryant said absently. “You just hang in there until we get these last sensors in.”
“Agreed,” Twistunder replied. He shifted a few of his gripping appendages on the warm skin of the human’s back and carefully shifted the protection of the shirts that protected them both so that it lay easier over them. The scientist was acutely aware of the fact that his seeking shelter here left a large swath of the human’s soft abdomen with only the thin protection of the “tee-shirt” and a thin band of “waist” with not even that. Twistunder rubbed his main gripping appendages together in guilt as he felt the solidified precipitation – what mad scientist could have postulated such a thing? – continue to strike the shirt above him. It stung a bit even through the protection of the human’s clothing and Twistunder shuddered at the memory of those horrible moments of pain before his companion had rushed to his side and sheltered him with his own body.
“You okay Twist?” Bryant asked.
“I am,” Twistunder hesitated, decided against correcting the shortening of his name, “still relatively uninjured.”
The human gave a bark of laugher as they reached the next set of coordinates and he plunged the spike that held the sensor into the soil. Twistunder felt a thrill of something that wasn’t quite fear as he felt the bipedal muscle structure surge under his appendages. What raw power the human was capable of! What phenomenal forces their bodies were capable of absorbing. Perhaps he shouldn’t feel quite so guilty about leaving the human with that bit of unprotected flesh. It was clear that even the tall, energy expensive bipedal form functioned to protect Bryant from the precipitation as the small spheres struck his helmet and shoulders then bounced away from the unprotected area.
“Two more left,” Bryant said and Twistunder could have sworn that there was joy and anticipation in the human’s voice.
“You are excited because we are near the end of our task and the safety of our base?” Twistunder asked.
There was a pause, presumably because the human was accellerateing his velocity. What did they call that type of movement? Running?
“Yeah, I guess,” Bryant finally confirmed.
They fell back into silence and Twistunder focused on attempting to read the confusing mix of chemical signals the human was sending out. This was a rare opportunity to study the humans up close and Twistunder planned to make use of it despite his still lingering terror. Off to the east the sky flashed with light that reached his photoreceptors even under the protection of the shirts and shortly after that a horrific rolling roar passed over them.  Twistunder fought down an undignified squeak of fear. Shortly thereafter Bryant plunged the next to last probe into the ground and laughed. Twistunder was suddenly struck by the idea that Bryant himself was a part of the storm. The power, the careless violence, the rolling noise, all was reflected in the sky and the surging body beneath the Undulates appendages.
“One more!” Bryant called out. “And this last stretch is the shortest one.”
Bryant accelerated and thrust the last spike into the ground. Freed of that last weight that had been pulling at his arms the human altered his direction and they began to fly over the  ground. Twistunder became aware of some rising sound, something like a rivulet of water falling into the shoal from a prominence but loud and terrifying. Twistunder twitched as he realized that somewhere behind them the sleet had increased and the storm front that carried it was approaching them. Before the Undulate could ponder that much Bryant gathered his muscles under him and simply leap over the protective barriers that surrounded the base.
“Oh security will not be pleased,” Twistunder gasped.
Bryant laughed and charged the front doors of the base. They opened for him and they passed throught. Bryant decelerated violently and stopped in the center of the entry way.
“Whoo!” Bryant let out a sound that the xeno-psychologists would not doubt be analyzing for cycles to come.
Bryant began moving around lightly, probably to allow his muscles to cool down without damage from his exertion, and Twistunder shoved a significant portion of himself out of the neck of the shirt in order to observe what was going on. The bases’ other human occupant was approaching them with a first aid kit.
“Did you finish the mission?” the other human asked.
“Oh yeah!”  Bryant crowed. “High-five mate!”
Twistunder held on in shock as the humans raised opposing arms and swung them together with the same force that Bryant had driven the probes into the ground. The hands connected with a jar of force that traveled throughout Bryant’s body.
“You ready to get down Twist?” Bryant asked.
“Quite ready,” Twistunder said meekly.
The Undulate climbed down the human’s legs and slipped away to his quarters. He mulled over the idea of formally comparing the human behavior to a sort of benevolent atmospheric storm, a mad, mad, benevolent atmospheric storm.
 
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Webcomic Review  –  Faux Pas

4/23/2017

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​Who doesn’t get giddy when they find a webcomic with a good premise, excellent art, great writing, and an archive with thousands of back pages?
If you know such a person back away slowly and throw chocolate to distract them if they try and follow you. Seriously, that’s weird.
For the rest of us here on the interwebs go give Faux Pas a try. Oz Foxes used to be a daily strip in conventional newspapers and in terms of quality could easily hold its own in the running with Garfield, Calvin and Hobbes, and Family Circus.
Randy is an actor and a good one. He has a range that includes James Bond and Macbeth and his face is a real money-maker.  He would get a lot more work if his manager wasn’t a hen with delusions of competence, his mentor wasn’t distracted by his one-hundred forty-two children, and of course if Randy wasn’t owned by a fairly clueless set of humans. When the humans sell the farm things are hard enough without an invasion of cats and a new owner who doesn’t know that Arthur the horse is unrideable. Then a vixen strolls into the farm.
Faux Pas is a delightful romp through the life of an acting fox with more street smarts than forest wisdom. Romance, adventure, and lots of rabbits. 
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Dragon Scales

4/21/2017

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Traditionally various animal body parts, the horn of the rhino for example, have been considered to have various medicinal properties. In a world where dragons exist it can be assumed that dragon scales would be considered to have (truly or not) various medicinal properties. 
What could some properties of dragon scales be? 
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Humans are Weird - High Five

4/20/2017

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Picture
Humans are Weird – High Five
“Are you very certain that you do not mind me lingering here?” Twistunder asked of his human companion.
“Nah,” Corporal Bryant said absently. “You just hang in there until we get these last sensors in.”
“Agreed,” Twistunder replied. He shifted a few of his gripping appendages on the warm skin of the human’s back and carefully shifted the protection of the shirts that protected them both so that it lay easier over them. The scientist was acutely aware of the fact that his seeking shelter here left a large swath of the human’s soft abdomen with only the thin protection of the “tee-shirt” and a thin band of “waist” with not even that. Twistunder rubbed his main gripping appendages together in guilt as he felt the solidified precipitation – what mad scientist could have postulated such a thing? – continue to strike the shirt above him. It stung a bit even through the protection of the human’s clothing and Twistunder shuddered at the memory of those horrible moments of pain before his companion had rushed to his side and sheltered him with his own body.
“You okay Twist?” Bryant asked.
“I am,” Twistunder hesitated, decided against correcting the shortening of his name, “still relatively uninjured.”
The human gave a bark of laugher as they reached the next set of coordinates and he plunged the spike that held the sensor into the soil. Twistunder felt a thrill of something that wasn’t quite fear as he felt the bipedal muscle structure surge under his appendages. What raw power the human was capable of! What phenomenal forces their bodies were capable of absorbing. Perhaps he shouldn’t feel quite so guilty about leaving the human with that bit of unprotected flesh. It was clear that even the tall, energy expensive bipedal form functioned to protect Bryant from the precipitation as the small spheres struck his helmet and shoulders then bounced away from the unprotected area.
“Two more left,” Bryant said and Twistunder could have sworn that there was joy and anticipation in the human’s voice.
“You are excited because we are near the end of our task and the safety of our base?” Twistunder asked.
There was a pause, presumably because the human was accellerateing his velocity. What did they call that type of movement? Running?
“Yeah, I guess,” Bryant finally confirmed.
They fell back into silence and Twistunder focused on attempting to read the confusing mix of chemical signals the human was sending out. This was a rare opportunity to study the humans up close and Twistunder planned to make use of it despite his still lingering terror. Off to the east the sky flashed with light that reached his photoreceptors even under the protection of the shirts and shortly after that a horrific rolling roar passed over them.  Twistunder fought down an undignified squeak of fear. Shortly thereafter Bryant plunged the next to last probe into the ground and laughed. Twistunder was suddenly struck by the idea that Bryant himself was a part of the storm. The power, the careless violence, the rolling noise, all was reflected in the sky and the surging body beneath the Undulates appendages.
“One more!” Bryant called out. “And this last stretch is the shortest one.”
Bryant accelerated and thrust the last spike into the ground. Freed of that last weight that had been pulling at his arms the human altered his direction and they began to fly over the  ground. Twistunder became aware of some rising sound, something like a rivulet of water falling into the shoal from a prominence but loud and terrifying. Twistunder twitched as he realized that somewhere behind them the sleet had increased and the storm front that carried it was approaching them. Before the Undulate could ponder that much Bryant gathered his muscles under him and simply leap over the protective barriers that surrounded the base.
“Oh security will not be pleased,” Twistunder gasped.
Bryant laughed and charged the front doors of the base. They opened for him and they passed throught. Bryant decelerated violently and stopped in the center of the entry way.
“Whoo!” Bryant let out a sound that the xeno-psychologists would not doubt be analyzing for cycles to come.
Bryant began moving around lightly, probably to allow his muscles to cool down without damage from his exertion, and Twistunder shoved a significant portion of himself out of the neck of the shirt in order to observe what was going on. The bases’ other human occupant was approaching them with a first aid kit.
“Did you finish the mission?” the other human asked.
“Oh yeah!”  Bryant crowed. “High-five mate!”
Twistunder held on in shock as the humans raised opposing arms and swung them together with the same force that Bryant had driven the probes into the ground. The hands connected with a jar of force that traveled throughout Bryant’s body.
“You ready to get down Twist?” Bryant asked.
“Quite ready,” Twistunder said meekly.
The Undulate climbed down the human’s legs and slipped away to his quarters. He mulled over the idea of formally comparing the human behavior to a sort of benevolent atmospheric storm, a mad, mad, benevolent atmospheric storm.
 
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Happy Doggo

4/19/2017

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Happy Doggo
Lazy Doggo
Matted Wad of Snark
Sleepy Doggo
Tricky Doggo 
Bark Bark Bark

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Spring is Fully Here

4/18/2017

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Spring

Against grey of a clouded sky,
A flame of pink braves the cold. 
Rusted chain link and molded wood,
Provide a trellis for the lovely flower.
Spring cares not if you are ready,
Mother Nature is. 
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Copyright © 2015
  • Home
    • Book 1 "Humans are Weird: I Have the Data"
    • Book 2 "Humans are Weird: We Took a Vote"
    • "Dying Embers"
    • Testimonials
  • The Aliens
    • Dying Embers
    • Humans Are Weird
    • Miscellaneous
    • Fan Art
  • Betty's Blog
    • Humans Are Weird
  • Store: Betty's Booty
  • About & Contact
    • Bibliography
    • Links