IRILI'S PROFILE

The madness of his mind can be described with quite clarity to be the fluttering of many wings. There is no doubt in my mind of his insanity to ours. There is much rambling in his nature of comments to assure us of his many addled thoughts and his quick turn of tune is less melodic and more obtuse. Lemons and lions fill a precocious amount of time in his head but very little space. In fact, there's very little space taken up as is wont to do with most humans. In this he is quite normal. However, this peculiarity is marked by a lack of cooperation at times and a startling eagerness to be helpful at others. Although always elegant in speech, his words and mannerism are often not used appropriately to convey meaning and only cause a bebogglement in minds of others; himself not included of course. For his ramblings make complete sense to a mind as studied as his own and so convinced of his rightness, he will not admit to madness, only postulate the madness of others; the audacious fellow. Though there is something to be said for his fears; indeed I would say they were somewhat rational. Lions are quite fearsome and lemons leave nasty stings on cuts and hurt quite ferociously if squeezed into one's eyes; this of course being a torture implement of many secret organizations and governments. In fact, I find his fears wholly confirmed and logical. That of course doesn't excuse his behavior and many incidents of malcontent and misconduct. Though this is all irrelevant for he has been deemed insane by the best doctors of the world, elitists that they are. I myself have confirmed the madness is there and spreading. I would say it's contagious in fact. We are all infected by it and it will slowly tear away at our minds as it has done this poor fellow. Perhaps there is no cure or treatment. Perhaps there is no disease. Perhaps it is a state of being, something we were built or created to combat. If so, this person in particular is ill equipped to handle such a foe.

Articles and Features in the Weekly Wayfarer's Paper
- Caring for Carbuncles: an article featuring tips and tricks on caring for a malicious beast.
- Magical Taxation: an article on new taxes on items such as fortune telling and potions.
- Crossword Puzzle: a large puzzle, answers next week!
- Ivold the Barbarian: comic featuring everyone's favorite barbarian, Ivold.
- Slime Sludge = Littering!: a reminder to adventurers to clean up slayed slimes.
- Dragon Trouble: article detailing the dragon problem in neighboring town of Hostl.
- Weather: estimated weather for the week, which roads to travel, which to avoid.
- Andrea's Item Emporium: advertisement on sales and new inventory.

Why does there have to be a right or a wrong reason? Why can't it just be a reason? What makes your reasoning bad? What makes it good? Is personel gain really so looked down upon? Is a will to succeed really so disgusting? What other reason should I follow? Love? Is love more noble and publicly acceptable a reason for unordinary action?

Why is the betterment of the human race a good reason to do something but the betterment of the individual a despicable reason? Why am I a wrong reason to do something for and everything else is in the right?

Sometimes fluffy and fuzzy.
Sometimes smooth-haired and sleek.
Sometimes yippy and yappy.
Sometimes quiet and meek.
Sometimes tiny and timid.
Sometimes tiny and loud.
Sometimes big and bashful.
Sometimes big and proud.
Sometimes loving and loyal.
Sometimes silly and playful.
But no matter the size or the nature,
He is and always will be my dog.

It's a tough, hard, cruel world and I choose to live in the fast lane. Getting to work on time means too much to me to drive in the far right hand lane. I zip into the left every chance I get, passing by the slow, average joes. Don't get me wrong, sometimes the left isn't always the fast lane. Every once in a while, there's that one guy.
Yeah, you know who you are. That one guy, who drives in the far left lane, either at or just below the speed limit; not realizing or just not caring that some of us have to live on the edge, or just get the hell to work on time. Life in the fast lane doesn't allow for the slow pokes in the fast lane. So the fast lane leaves him behind. It switches things up. Sometimes the middle lane, sometimes the right lane. Heck! Sometimes, it really throws you for a spin and you zoom down the right lane, passing people by, shouting out your window "Yippee ki-yay! I'm not gonna be late today!"
Life in the fast lane is a hard mistress, fickle as hell. But it's worth the rush I get when I shave those few minutes off my driving time, making it home just a few minutes sooner.

Annie: Nope. I'm not sorry.
Shane: Not at all?
Annie: Nope.
Shane: Really? I find that hard to believe.
Annie: I don't have anything to be sorry about.
Shane: Oh no. Of course not. You only started your day off by hitting some random kid.
Annie: He had it coming. He called me a whore. I was justified.
Shane: Alright. Name calling. Justified. Sure. Sure. How about later when you instigated a food fight?
Annie: You did that plenty when you were my age. It was just a bit of fun. Besides, it's not real food they feed us anyways so I wasn't being wasteful.
Shane: ...I'll admit the cafeteria food is...unpleasant to say the least.
Annie: Exactly.
Shane: But how about you 'justify' your actions after that when you called your teacher a communist pig, bent on ruining America.
Annie: First of all, I said he was bent on destroying America. It's already ruined so he can't do that. Secondly, everything I said was true.
Shane: You can't talk to a teacher like that. Show a little respect.
Annie: Now you're going against what you taught me growing up. You have to earn respect to receive it. He's done nothing to earn it.
Shane: Teachers are teachers. They teach you stuff. That doesn't earn some respect in your book?
Annie: If it was anything relative to what I'll be doing when I grow up, sure.
Shane: Fine. Fine! Just go to your room. You're grounded for a month.
Annie: I'm being punished?! But I had perfectly good reasons for my actions!
Shane: Not in my book.
Annie: I thought I lived in a democratic country!
Shane: Yes, but you also live in a dictatorship-run household.

Remember, my love,
the tune of today,
the flowers in bloom,
the green leaves in may.

Remember, my love,
the feel of the breeze,
cool and refreshing,
soft summer's ease.

Remember, my love,
the long summer day,
filled with sunshine,
with children at play.

Remember, my love,
and sleep soundly tonight.
For winters always end,
and yeild to summer's light.

He was persuaded lyrically, in song, if you will. And fine persuasion it was. No one will argue that. After all, how is one to argue with someone's singing. It's ridiculous to even think of.

Now, the singing wasn't terribly wonderful. In fact, terrible will be enough to describe it. However, I believe that the message was sent across as the gentlemen acquised with the singer's persuasivly, musical argument.

I believe both parties are satisfied as well which is all very well and good. The singer has proven himself correct to the naysayer. And the naysayer no longer has to suffer through poorly rhymed verses. It's a win-win situation if I do say so myself!