Posts Tagged ‘Odin’

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So as I sit here with my fellow authors, Luzob and Mr.Fail, I truly feel a wave of shame wash over me. I’ve complained a lot lately about feeling stagnant, stuck in a state of limbo as i am between jobs and semesters of school, and yet for some reason I have been absent from our humble little blog. I plan to change that.

Every Friday will be Firearm Friday, where i will either post a video of myself testing a boomstick or write a post about a certain weapon that I would love to add to my collection.

Every Monday will be about something that happened at school, because as all you current and former students know, some seriously messed up shit can happen on a “normal” Monday.

Every Wednesday will be Odin’s day. I’ll be posting wisdom in one form or another that I hope will enrich your lives as much as it does mine.

Every Thursday will be Thor’s day. This will be a post about armed combat, sometimes including a video of said combat taking place right here at Fisch Fail Inc.

Our prior absence will now be followed by posts the likes of which NONE of us have ever seen.

May the gods watch over you

Måtte Æser ser deg



Welcome, don’t forget to share this blog with your friends and subscribe for the latest in entertainment. And if you use StumbleUpon, go ahead and give us a thumbs up, would ya? It is easy, all the work is already done. Also don’t forget to follow our antics on both Facebook and Twitter. Thanks!

So this isn’t merely a LuzOb post… but a Luz and Grim post!

also most likely the only text-only Drunk Post… because Mr. Fail is not here…

So yeah…

We like Odin… just sayin’…

Say something deep Grim…………….

Grim here…

May we live our lives forever by the honor and sacrifice of our ancestors, and may the gods always look upon us and smile, for we carry on their names evermore in a world that looks upon our faith with indifference. Praise Tyr for his sacrifice, Praise Thor for protecting Midgard with mighty Mjolnir, and Hail Odin in his infinite wisdom.

Luz back… so there you go… apparently Grim is much more articulate when not exactly sober… also we now have an official toast as well!

Steak when you are hungry
Mead when you are dry
Love when you are lonely
Valhalla when you die!

Honestly I stole that from an old Irish drinkin toast, but fuck ’em…

Grim wants some drinking toast now…


okay.. focus focus…


we’ve also standardized our Futhark Runic system… which i accidentally called “futherk”…. sorry Odin…

aaaaaaaaanyway….  Here’s Grim…




An amulet, "silver strongly gilt", r...

An amulet, “silver strongly gilt”, representing the hammer of Thor. Found in 1877 in Skåne, Sweden. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)


*soon to be Odinnssonnoonsonsonsonsonons

also we’ll post something more legit soon!

Nine Realms Learning Poem

Posted: November 3, 2012 by luzob in Random
Tags: , , , , ,

Nine Realms Learning Poem.

Norse Crisis Flowchart

Posted: August 29, 2012 by luzob in Random
Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

Good afternoon, fellow FischFailures! I was Stumbling this morn and found something to share with you all!

Also this is usually how we deal with all of our problems!

That… and throw a lot of mead in there somewhere…

(Gainked from which gainked it from

Welcome, don’t forget to share this blog with your friends and subscribe for the latest in entertainment. And if you use StumbleUpon, go ahead and give us a thumbs up, would ya? It is easy, all the work is already done. Also don’t forget to follow our antics on both Facebook and Twitter. Thanks!

Pretty simple to explain, right?

ehh, no…

So welcome back to our lil blog, it’s been awhile (like always). I appreciate our readers and their patience with us.


So I was working (also like always) and was in desperate need for some breakage, so I took some. I grabbed some snackness and was ready to sit my fat ass down for some major-league smashing, but before I could rest my weary lameatude I came across a rather vocal African-American man, talking to himself, and only to himself…

…until he saw me.

At this point I was convinced he was just another mid-aged druggie that is needlessly commonplace in my town, dumbstruck by the change in scenery that I provided for him.

He slowly raised one hand, pointing directly at me, and uttered one phrase in a low tone: “The Bear…” With an awe-struck and wide-eyed expression I’ve identified with individuals usually on a very strong drug… then he spoke again in the midst of my obvious bewilderment.

“The bear (he thrusts a fist against his own chest) it’s here… it’s in you… it’s (chest-fist hit) here… but in you… it’s right there!” and he points to me once again.

This is weird, as most of those who know me personally would agree, due to a semblance to an old name of mine… but I digress…

In my confusion I ask him the only thing I can think of: “what’s your name??”

…in a whisper… “Fate…”

“So your name’s Fate?”

…with a genuine ear-to-ear smile… “yesss…”

Apparently this required a quick switch of conversation, as he straightened himself up and moved a little closer (but not close enough to cause alarm) and spoke with a clarity unheard previously:

“You don’t go to church, do you?”

I felt awkward at that moment; never being the church-y type myself, and not willing to listen to a fifteen minute lecture on why I should, but I basically said fuck it and spun the wheel of Fate (take that as you want)

“I think I’ve honestly been to church twice. ever.”

His first (of a few) shout-rants: “It’s alright… you’re alright… it’s okay… you won’t find any god there anyway… you can’t find god in those places… you’ll find god right here…” then he makes the strangest gesture, somewhere between pointing at his forehead w/ his thumb and adjusting a nonexistant hat with one hand at the back of his head and the other still at his forehead.

At this point I was sure I could get better entertainment from this man than anything in the breakroom, so I keep it up.

“So you’re basically saying god’s in all of us or something?”

With a unique flip of his wrist his begins pointing to his chest again “No, no… it’s only right… (points to chest) here!”

“So you’re telling me you’re god, is that right?” I accidentally used a lame version of a psychologically-learned reflection technique on him, and this time is gets a few feet closer, and whispers with that reused smile once again…


Now is the time I almost am worried, because I’ve met a handful of demi-schizo-effective-bi-polar-drug-addled-whatthefucks in my travels, and most of them were rather dangerous, if not at first glance definitely after they start throwing their own feces and whistling “Singing in the Rain” (but that’s another post). Before I could react, reply or slip away, his begins yet another rant, with another change in tone, gaining clarity and conviction along the way with every word.

“What you must realize is that I won’t be here for very long, but I’ll be back, and when I come back… when I do come back… I will find good souls and good hearts andIpromiseyouandonlyyou that I will come back for you… You have the heart and soul of The Bear and you are a good person and I will be coming back for you when I come back. Do you know why I know you have The Bear within you?” (I shake my head, finding growing interest) “I know you have The Bear because I have the soul of the Lion!”

…and I shit you not…

…the truth right here…

…is that this 40-50 year old African American man roared at me.

I mean he leans back, head to the heavens and bellowed…

I was in shock, mostly from the after-effect of what I would otherwise consider a social faux pas, but also in awe of the fact that this man is so convinced of what is coming from his own mouth that he could ROAR about it!

Barely missing a beat, and noticing my apparent discomfort, he softly says…

“It’s alright, I promise you, it’s my truth… Even if you don’t believe me, please don’t forget me. I will be back, I promise. don’t forget…”

I now was aware of my ever-shortening break, and said my goodbyes and took off.

…fifteen minutes later, after my break was spent and I was ready for another round of labor, he’s still exactly where I’d left him, telling other customers his story, and roaring along as well, and after another fifteen or so minutes I see him leaving the premises. He locks eyes with me one last time, and swiftly does that “I point at my eyes and then point at yours with my outstretched index and middle fingers” move and smiles at me.

I’ve been looking into my own spirituality and culture for the past couple years, and have been feeling a pull greatly toward the Northern Traditions of Norse Pagan persuasion, and while I may be somewhat biased, after much though upon his words…

I either met Odin that day, or the most insane (non-violent!) individual I’ve ever known to this date.

That’s my story for the day, and I hope there will be much more to post.

TL,DR: met a crazy black man who may be Odin where I work.

My vision is hazy and my heart is heavy, for I will not make it home.

The air is cold as I stumble towards the stream and my sword feels cumbersome. The wound in my side flows like the water over the rocks, and it is deep.

The wound in my back is deeper still.

The ground is hard as i fall to my knees next to the riverbed and i weep; not for my own death, but the death of my homeland. The warriors who come under the banner of the Christ god will not stop until our ways are forgotten and our gods left behind. I take solace in the fact that while i am dying, they are dead. I suddenly feel as though i could do with some rest and I let myself fall into the stream and shut my eyes as the cold water laps my cheek.

And as I fall into darkness, A light burns against my eyes and so I open them once more.

My vision is clear and my heart is warm

For I am home.

The air is perfect and my sword is more a part of me than my own beating heart. Where once fatal wounds had been, only scars remain.

The ground is soft as I stand on my feet again and I weep; not out of sadness, but joy. The warriors who came under the banner of the Christ god will never see what I see, never feel what I feel in this moment, and I turn to embrace the sight of that glorious mead hall. I take solace in the fact that, while my brothers and sisters are dead and dying, I will see them again in that hall. I walk towards the steps as the doors open, and a one-eyed man motions me to a seat at his table and says

Welcome Home

May the gods watch over you

Måtte Æser ser deg

Grimnir Odinsson