Scrawlings of the Gods

From the Desk of Odin: Messages From Thyself Unto Thyself

-Traded eye for a drink to gain wisdom from Mimir. After first sip, realized I got ripped off. An eye for "wisdom"? Talk about freaking expensive. Damn it, I drink mead, not smoke cigarettes!

-Hung myself upside-down from a tree after getting pierced with my spear. Not sure how I did this. Maybe I really need to cut back on the booze.

-Caught my idiot son Thor playing with that damn snake again. I told him we should have defanged it, but he wouldn't let me. That thing will be the death of him.

-My son Loki gave me an odd look when I asked when that horse came from. Eight hooves? Honestly, what kind of demented thing is going on here? When I gave him the Talk, I didn't go into how genetics work. I don't want my extended family doing anything that moves. We're not the Olympians, damn it! Zeus can't even keep his pants up if his life depended on it. Loki will get instructed on using protection. If a horse with eight hooves is his something he gave birth to, no telling what perverted hentai creators will dream up if word gets out. Damn you, Rule 34. Still, probably will find some use for horse.

-Pet birds Hugin and Munin won't shut up. We're all out of their favorite saltine crackers, and they can't stop yapping about the reproductive habits of trolls. When those feather-bags are hungry, we all lose our lunch.

-Pet wolves Freki and Geri getting too fat. Will have them try chasing Sleipnir to thin them out. They're supposed to be insatiable, damn it! They're just not getting enough exercise nowadays.

-Lost my favorite ring, Draupnir. Thankfully, it makes copies of itself. Otherwise, Frigg would've had my head long ago for losing that ring.

-Middle of week is still favorite day. Wednesday is mine, Thursday is for my son, Tuesday's for Tyr, and Freya's on Friday. Damn English language didn't put my day at the end of week. No one says "Thank Odin it's Wednesday."

-Thor being idiot again. I don't care what he was betting on with Jesus. (Thanks, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, for giving them that stupid idea.) You do not use Mjolnir to drive nails. Especially nails very close to you. God or not, the shockwave hurts your ears for weeks. At least death metal does the same thing in a much more awesome way. Still, the look on Yahweh's face after Thor nailed his boy to a cross again was priceless. Thankfully, he decided not to press charges, since everything was alright after three days.

-Descendants of the Norse are famous for a line of compact furniture and death metal. Raiding days are over with. They really need to get back into the game. They're damn good at it. The Mongols beat our records for bad-assery, though one-upping Genghis Khan's going to be tough. Really could use him in Valhalla. Need to find out which afterlife he went to.

-Should try promoting more name recognition among next generation. Although Asatru's small, at least it gets my name out there. Thankfully, all those Norse death metal bands helping on that front. Despite being old guy, should really decide to become more metal.

-At advice of some modern special forces soldiers who just came to Valhalla, upgraded my hardware. Yeah, I know the magic spear's traditional and all, but I'm a god of war and wisdom. No point in keeping obsolete military hardware around. Waiting for that Finnish shooter, Simo Hayha, to pass on, so I can get sniping lessons worthy of the gods. Gungnir's now reforged as a Dragunov SVD with illuminated night-vision scope, ergonomic synthetic stock, and bayonet. Why do Russians put a bayonet on a designated marksman rifle? Sure, it defeats the purpose of a rifle in the first place, but it's much more metal.

-Both Sleipnir and the wife didn't like the motorcycle I bought. Frigg says it's a result of my mid-life crisis. (Already had enough of those, dear.) Sleipnir was a worthy and valuable stead, but you have to change with the times. You're not on the way to the glue factory, my friend. I have a solution that may satisfy all of it.

-It's done! My greatest stead is done! It was painful (for my horse), but with enough patience and use of the runes (especially raising the dead), I've made it! I have bionically grafted Sleipnir to the motorcycle! Will mount chainsaws, speakers, and mini-guns to maximize "metal potential."

-Frigg almost fainted after seeing the Sleipnir-cycle in action. She says I'll kill myself on the thing. If anything, that annoying wolf chained up in the neighbor's yard will. I don't trust the chain's "Ragnarok Warranty." May need preemptive strike. Why wait for a ship made of rotting toenails (that hygienic nightmare) to start the end of the world when I can prevent my own demise with a single shot? One shot, one kill. Gungnir never misses, thankfully.

-First it was the motorcycle, then the Sleipnir-cycle, and now this. Frigg was hysterical after I capped Fenrir. Do not care what anyone says. That animal was a public menace. They had to shoot Old Yeller, didn't they? This dog needed to be compost before it killed someone (namely me).

-Settled out of court with the neighbors over the dog-shooting (by giving them a bucket of gold copies of Draupnir), convinced the neighbors to get a bunny rabbit instead. What's the worst a bunny rabbit can do? At least it was no cost to me, thanks to ring multiplying itself. Investment was well worth it. Now, maybe I can convince them to get a motorcycle too?