Blog Log # 2 (Quote of the Week)

(A special holiday edition of Side Burneius The Mundane.)

Side Burneius The Mundane

Qoutact III


The winter was coming down hard on the land. The gods must be tired of sweating for they have frozen the water they pour upon us mortals from on high. Warriors have returned from battle for the winter festivities to lay down their blades and pick up their axes. Though the spirits where high there was a tension, much like a tempting doom, circling the air. Could these warriors converge on the brink of a whole new realm? A much rockier land of magical cacophonies and as many slays a slayer could ever dream of. What trials lie ahead for these men amongst men? Will the nymphs tempt our slayers only to find that the slayers are mirens? (that’s the dude version of sirens) That is enough rambling for now. Our heroes’ journey shall unravel to us in time.

(It is feast time and Side Burneius enters the dining hall to find Mollyandria, Metropolis, Dayarian, Scotavius, Christos The Cajun, and Samazon, oh wait he couldn’t make it.)

Hello my love you look absolutely ravishing.

“Thank you” said Dayarian.

Always with the funny aren’t we, Dayarian? I was speaking of Mollyandria. I see Samazon could not be with us. Greeks! (uproar of laughter from all) Let us eat up this food so Dayarian can enlighten us all with his battle stories.

(eating happens and we find Mollyandria, Side Burneius, and Dayarian sitting alone by the fire. Who knows what everyone else as up to. Making a ruckus is what they were up to.)

“These are dark a desperate times” Dayarian.

“Agreed.” I heard you received word from Christos today.

Yes I did. He had many kind words. I hear he is a fine warrior with fantastic hair. I’m sure he would say “Just part of my charm.” But with a lot of asterisks, he wrote like a sailor… nay… a pirate. Enough about him, tell me if the tales I have heard from you.

Which would you like to hear Burneius?

How about this dragon story I have been told? Is it true you back handed Beowulf half way up the Mountain.
Yes sir. But he still beat me to the dragon. Guess that’s why I am still amongst the living. What silly King Beowulf was.

So you saw Beowulf fall with eyes of your own?

It is an image I see every time I close my eyes. Then, I laugh and remember that, though his subjects have twisted the tale, I killed that dragon. With my own bare hands. It was a savage scene that was that beast’s body lying in a pool of its evil blood. In the distance I could hear Beowulf’s dying words. Ha… Beowulf ? Why don’t you ever hear the stories about how I saved him from Grendel.Or how I beat him with Grendel’s arm because he hid under a table in the mead hall. And Grendel’s Mother… That was I too. She blew my I Phone up for months, that’s why she had to die. In the end it does not matter whatever gods we believe in, they will know whom the true hero is. The thing is I care not if I am a hero. I am Dayarian The Tiger. That is all the title I shall ever need.

Dayarian, brother you killed a dragon with your hands alone? No Blade? No Spear? No Light Saber?

Yes, Burneius. It was brutal. I sat by the corpse for many hours cursing Apollo and his whole family. Covered in dragon blood I screamed at them “… Don’t let me kill again.”
Eventually, I got my senses back and stuffed my bag with some gold and went looking for some nymphs. Hades, I would have kept company with the furies, at that point. As long as there were at least three of them, of course.

I don’t believe my ears Dayarian. I had no idea you were a man who have conquered such feats. Speaking of feats. What happened when you found the sirens?

I could not tell those tales with Mollyandria in earshot.

She doesn’t Mind.

“I am gonna punch you in the heart.” Side Burneius.

You know I kid, Mollyandria. So… then maybe another time, Dayarian?

Yes sir. I love to relive those glorious days. And someday I may tell you of my adventures with my Cyclops friend.

(A photographer’s depiction of the Fate of Dayarian.)

Blog Log # 2 (Quote of the Week)

Side Burneius the Mundane

Qoutact II


(This scene opens with Mollyandria entering Side Burneius’ chamber.)


Why so glum my dear Burneius? What burden is weighing on your heart?

My dear Mollyandria, I feel as if I am destined to bare the curse of making music with hands of my own, for eternity. I feel that the gods are refusing me a collaboration I most desire.

What is it my love? Tell me Burneius, what events have been placed on you to cause such anguish to your soul?

You remember Dayarian the lad that helped me with my paper a while back? Well he sent me a message just the other day. It read “Can u play gitbox with u?” to which I replied “um… conflicted. What were u saying?” he answered, “Can I play guitar and stuff wit… U?” I, a man who finds no greater joy then sharing a glorious thing such as music with others, has one answer to that question, “U sure can.” I must admit, my ever-loving sunflower, that I felt a great deal of excitement after that textversation. For Dayarian and I had been talking for a while about creating a sound unattainable to the unknowing and now we were to take our first step into the door of our destiny. What would we find just beyond that door ahead of us? Would it be some sort of monstrosity or some sort of beautiful elixir made of beauty, fun, and meaning? Does it even matter? But a man must confront himself and take a risk. I entered that unknown, my love. I walked right in. Your mind is wondering what I saw in that unknown just beyond the door. Well, my dear I saw myself in a room of filth all alone with a guitar. At first shock consumed my body but then I saw a vision. This was one of the most beautiful visions I had ever seen. It was Dayarian in his armor of cotton and denim ready for battle. His axe was hung low like those of the inter circle of the Great Rock Wars. It was real I tell you. You must believe me my love we experienced a new level of existence.

That sounds epic Burneius, absolutely divine but why are you wearing melancholy like a cloak?

Because love, it was just a vision. It was only the product of an over eager imagination. All that door offered was that room of filth. There was no Dayarian there, neither collaboration nor just two fellow men spinning yarns. It was only me I tell you. Me and Me alone. With only my trusty axe by my side. I felt that I should send a message to Dayarian to make sure trouble had not found him and he was still planning to journey through the door. He was kind enough to reply, “Hopefully… I’m going to a party but I don’t know how long I will be there…” Even the blindest man could see the future of this situation. Dayarian will not be arriving this evening.

Oh my gods Burneius, I wish I could help you carry this burden thrust upon your chest. What did you do my sweet? I believe if I was you I would weep like a willow.

What could I do? What man is prepared for such a debacle? I tell you my sunflower I was struck with the powers from above. The same Jove I thought was plotting against me granted me the strength of one whole folk singer. The same Juno I believed to be cursing me gave me the power of a voice that sounded like Tweedy and Dylan doing nasty things together. So what did I do my love? I did what I was born to do. I played Cletus Whiteheart songs with no shame of being a tribute band. It was satisfying but a void surrounded the room. The empty spot where Dayarian belonged. This feeling of emptiness is the reason I left that door ajar. And it will remain that way forever.

Oh Burneius, how can a man like you be forged by anything other than pure gold of the gods?

Mollyandria my world, I am half the person you are. You, the bright smile and joy of a sunflower and I, the big hairy weeping willow. Could I really exist with out the joy of a sunflower? Not even Venus could find her way into a form that would compare.

You are a cheesy one Side Burneius but charming on occasion.

*Moral of story, other people have feelings too.

(A different artist's depiction of the possible fate of Dayarian)


***Tell me, where is the hate in this?***

Blog Log # 2 (Quote of the Week)

Side Burneius the Mundane

Qoutact I

Tonight I have a tale. It is a great tale. It is great tale of friendship and heartbreak. So sit back my children and witness this yarn I spin you. Wait a minute; I must call on the muse to help me sing this tale of the Side Burneius and his epic journey to becoming a mediocre reviewer of reviews of other people’s work. Yo, muse gets your ass down here and do your job. Help me tell of Side Burneius the skeptic warrior.

Side Burneius was forged of the greatest forces ever known by no man, of high type nor low. His fate was determined many years before his birth. Side Burneius was to become an average type of guy, for this was his destiny. As Side Burneius lay down to take his rest he slipped into a most vivid dream. In this dream he had a vision of a most beautiful axe. Upon this axe, built by the hands of Jove, was painted the future of our great hero. He saw a job and bills piled up as big as a description of the dressing of the character (You know, endless pages of some dude putting on his armor.) found in Homeric verses. Startled and shaken Side Burneius awakes and knows he is to journey a short distance and research for a paper. Fate intervenes and only supplies him with books and no journals leaving him just short of the sources required to fulfill his destiny of writing a paper no one would ever use to build a great empire. At best, it could be rolled up and stuck in the eye of an overzealous Cyclops who carries a gun bigger than the beast itself.

Feeling like a failure Side Burneius reaches out to a friend of his, by the name of Dayarian. Dayarian a fan of the epics and in pursuit of English studies seems to be in a pivotal position to help our hero. Side Burneius, who is such a man as to be able to put his piety aside and reach out for help, calls on Dayarian. “Hey man do you know where I can find a journal or an essay on Virgil?” Dayarian replies, “Ummmm… Naw… dude sorry. There are these things called libraries” Juno, gazing down on this becomes enraged. How dare a tiger deny a lion with such ease? Meanwhile, Side Burneius is left to battle as a lone warrior in a war that seems meaningless. As he grasped his mighty sword in his steady hand he felt a vibration in his lower thigh. He reaches in his pocket and discovers a message. It was a message from Dayarian and it read, “If it’s any worth you can site that I think Virgil is a cool dude.” Was this a twist of the dagger that brought great Caesar to his demise? Despite the lack of support Side Burneius prevailed in this battle. 6 pages, 150 lines, 1,479 words, and 8,518 characters all lay slain by his hands alone. Side Burneius has a few battles left ahead of him but as a society we must believe he will fulfill his destiny and become as average as anyone ever.

-Cap'n Cletus

*Moral of the story is maybe phoning a friend is not the best lifeline to use.

(An artists depiction of the fate of Dayarian)