I, Prophet's Wardrobe

I'm a simple fellow, and I prefer simple clothes.
While it's warm out, I favor cargo shorts and converse, finishing up with a T-shirt with a witty/snarky slogan on it and a Hawaiian shirt. Why Hawaiian? Because I like to walk around, and if I'm not wearing my Hawaiian shirts, rude tourist jerkwads have to ruin my day with stupid questions.
Now, when the temperature starts to drop, I prefer a solid shoe over a boot, as well as fleece lined pants. I still use my t-shirt/Hawaiian combo, covered by a thick jacket.

You can tell a lot about a person by the way he's dressed. So, if you see a displeased individual in a Hawaiian shirt, don't ask for directions unless you want to wind up lost. A personal favorite is sending people to Canada.

Next time on TfaBP:
Set Sail!
I, Prophet's favorite Anime!

Dragonball and DragonballZ, a Comparison

Now, I'll begin things by saying that I like Dragonball, and that I do not like DragonballZ. This is the exact opposite of how it was 10ish years ago.
As a younger man, I was apparently all for screaming and explosions and dudes without shirts. Now, it seems, I prefer plot and substance.
Bear with me, it has been some time since I've seen either.
Watching DragonballZ now, I don't see a story that resonates with me. It's all the same thing. Villain shows up, kills supporting cast, find dragonballs, beat villain, wish for supporting cast to be alive again. And this is rehashed time and time again, with stronger villains and more supporting cast lost in the crossfire.
At least in Dragonball, Bulma was looking for the dragonballs for enitirely selfish reasons, and Goku was just along for the ride. He was a more likable child, at any rate. The trials and tribulations were more innocent, and when the first character actually died, I felt something, you know? I wasn't entirely sure, at least at first, that everything was going to be okay in the end. DragonballZ did not have this emotional link with the characters. 'Oh hey, everybody died! Well, let's go get the dragonballs and wish for everything to be okay!'

Next time, on TfaBP:
Clothes make the man!
I, Prophet's Wardrobe!

The Coming of I, Prophet

Youth and stupidity/naivety are the two major factors in how I came about, presumably. I was a bastard child, and then my parents married, whilst my mother was pregnant with her second of three sons. It was a typical wedding in the tradition of my paternal line, a massive gathering of friends and family in southern VT. There were kegs, so you knew it was classy. My early, pre-memory years were rife with hospital visits. And in my fourth year of life on this world, my biological father died. More on that later. Next came the choice between two stepfathers, the drunk or the wifebeater. My brother and I made the right choice. Our youngest sibling was born while I was 10, at thirteen I finally learned the truth of my bio-dad's passing. Truth be told, I'm still waiting to see if my stepfather is actually my bio-dad. That's be the icing on the cake, considering the carefully crafted house-of-cards (read: lies) fantasy land in which my parents and I would mince words.
Blah-Blah-Blah high school, one year of college, drop out, continue in and out of the careers of a lovely collection of psychologists, blah-blah-blah mediocre life, unending desire to move someplace warm, bam, today.
And that is my life , at least in its most basic form. I'll elaborate more on various events later.

Next time on TfaBP:
And now for something completely different!
Dragonaball and DBZ: A comparison!

Beginnings

Welcome to Tales from a Better Place, a nifty little spot where things like reality and sense aren't nearly as important as you're probably accustomed to. This will be the launching point from which your mind can set sail for distant vistas, or just to stop in and view the world from my judgmental blue eyes.
To begin, I'm currently perfectly average. A bit tall, a bit heavy, and a bit unkempt. I lead a charmed life of alcohol and nicotine, floating down the river of life in cold, unforgiving New England. I live by a harsh code of rules, which leaves the Fellowman no room to maneuver. Fueled by ska music and sarcasm, my cynical self lives day to day as best I can, complaining about anything and everything that bothers me, so that nobody can mistake exactly how I view everything. Brutal honesty is a combat style, and with it I am a monstrous combatant.

Next time on TfaBP:
A tale of epic proportions!
The coming of I, Prophet!