Bobby Ingram > Recent Status Updates

Daily Pratchett:
Keith looked up. His eyes narrowed. He got to his feet.
Here it comes, thought Maurice. He’s going to leap forward with superhuman strength because he’s so angry and they’re going to wish he’d never been born …
Keith leapt forward with ordinary human strength, landed one punch on Rat-catcher 1 and was smacked to the floor again by a big, brutal, sledgehammer blow.

Daily Pratchett:
She leaned against the wall with incredible nonchalance. There was not a click. A panel in the floor did not slide back. ‘Probably the wrong place,’ she said. ‘I’ll just rest my arm innocently on this coat hook.’ A sudden door in the wall completely failed to happen. ‘Of course, it’d help if there was an ornate candlestick,’ said Malicia. ‘They’re always a sure-fire secret passage lever."

Apparently his first YA. Stars a talking cat and talking rats. Love it

Daily Maurice:
A sense of smell that was, as far as Maurice could understand it, almost as good as sight and sound and speech all put together. For example, the rat always turned to face Maurice and looked directly at him when he spoke. It was uncanny. Maurice had known a blind cat that walked into doors a lot, but Dangerous Beans never did that.

Daily Rincewind:
Carrot sighed. ‘You're just a coward really, aren't you?’
‘Yes, but I've never understood what's wrong with the idea. It takes guts to run away, you know. Lots of people would be as cowardly as me if they were brave enough.’

Daily Cohen:
‘But there's lots more a proper historian could tell you—’ said the minstrel.
‘Hah!’ said Cohen. ‘It's what ordin'ry people remember that matters. It's songs and sayin's. It doesn't matter how you live and die, it's how the bards wrote it down.’

Daily Death:
THINGS WILL HAVE COME TO A PRETTY PASS, ALBERT, IF I DID NOT KNOW WHETHER A THING WAS DEAD OR ALIVE WITHOUT HAVING TO GO AND LOOK.
‘Er… the way the theory goes, sir, it's the act of lookin' that determines if it's alive or not.’
Death looked hurt. ARE YOU SUGGESTING I WILL KILL THE CAT JUST BY LOOKING AT IT?
‘It's not quite like that, sir.’
I MEAN, IT'S NOT AS IF I MAKE FACES OR ANYTHING.

Daily Cohen the Barbarian:
‘Oh, there's always villains!’ said Evil Harry.
‘No, there's vicious evil underhand bastards, true enough. But they use laws now. They'd never call themselves Evil Harry.’
‘Men who don't know the Code,’ said Boy Willie. Everyone nodded. You mightn't live by the law but you had to live by the Code.
‘Men with bits of paper,’ said Caleb.

Daily Pratchett:
Not a muscle moved on the Patrician's face.
‘Pardon me, I'm a little out of date on faculty staff,’ he said. ‘Are you the one who has to take the dried frog pills?’
‘No, sir. That's the Bursar, sir,’ said Ponder. ‘He has to have them because he's insane, sir.’
‘Ah,’ said Lord Vetinari, and now he did have an expression. It was that of a man resolutely refraining from saying what was on his mind.

Daily Death:
'I said, "I'm sorry I'm late." Boom, boom.'
I BEG YOUR PARDON?
'Er, you know... Sorry I'm late. Like... dead?'
Death nodded. OH, I SEE. IT WAS THE 'BOOM BOOM' I DID NOT UNDERSTAND.
'Er, that was to show it was a joke,' said Shoblang.
AH, YES. I CAN SEE HOW THAT WOULD BE NECESSARY. IN FACT, MR SHOBLANG, WHILE YOU ARE LATE, YOU ARE ALSO EARLY. BOOM, BOOM.

Daily Death:
‘I said, “I’m sorry I’m late.” Boom, boom.’
I BEG YOUR PARDON?
‘Er, you know . . . Sorry I’m late. Like . . . dead?’
Death nodded. OH, I SEE. IT WAS THE ‘BOOM BOOM’ I DID NOT UNDERSTAND.
‘Er, that was to show it was a joke,’ said Shoblang.
AH, YES. I CAN SEE HOW THAT WOULD BE NECESSARY. IN FACT, MR SHOBLANG, WHILE YOU ARE LATE, YOU ARE ALSO EARLY. BOOM, BOOM.

Most of the overstuffed chairs in the library were occupied by contented lunchers dozing happily under tented copies of the Ankh-Morpork Times. Susan looked around until she found the copy from which projected the bottom half of a black robe and two bony feet. There was also a scythe leaning against the back of the armchair. She raised the paper.
GOOD AFTERNOON, said Death. HAVE YOU HAD LUNCH? IT WAS JAM ROLY-POLY.

My beautiful, beautiful boy <3<3<3

Daily Death:
Only someone whose life contains very little else, one feels, would treasure a piece of gimcrackery like this.
It currently holds tea, with a slice of lemon.
The bleak desktop also contains a paperknife in the shape of a scythe and a number of hourglasses.

One of my favorite things is Pratchett writing about non-knowers interacting with Gaspode, who as a dog, OBVIOUSLY can't speak.

Daily Gaspode the Wonder Dog:
‘Yip,’ it said, and there was something wrong with this, too. William was aware that dogs like this yipped, but this one, he was sure, had said ‘yip’.
‘There’s a good …’ he began, and finished ‘… dog?’
‘Yip yipyip sheesh yip,’ said the dog, and walked off.

Can't wait to finish this one, even if Worlds will be taking a lot of time this weekend. Really has me hooked.

Daily Pratchett:
‘I would not dream of insisting. But the Times will collapse,’ said the chair, and this was the chair that other chairs listened to. ‘The young man is also an idealist. He has yet to find out that what’s in the public interest is not what the public is interested in.’

Continuing to love this

Daily Pratchett:
A couple of months ago someone had tried to hand William the old story about there being a dog in the city that could talk. William had explained that it was an urban myth. It was always a friend of a friend who had heard it talk, and it was never anyone who had seen the dog. The dog in front of William didn’t look as if it could talk, but it did look as if it could swear.

Pratchett does the news? Right in my Q-zone
Daily Pratchett:
‘I wonder who’s doing it?’ said Mr Prone, who travelled in wholesale boots and shoes.
‘Oh, they’d be special people for doing this,’ said Mr Mackleduff.
‘Really?’ said William.
‘Oh, yes,’ said Mr Mackleduff, who was one of those large men who were instantly expert on anything. ‘They wouldn’t allow just anyone to write what they like. That stands to reason.’

Daily Pratchett:
This had been a benefit in some ways. Not even licensed thieves tried to rob the Bucket now. Policemen didn’t like their drinking disturbed. On the other hand, Mr Cheese had never found a bigger bunch of petty criminals than those wearing the Watch uniform. He saw more dud dollars and strange pieces of foreign currency cross his bar in the first month than he’d found in ten years in the business.

Another banger, this book

Daily Death AND Vimes!!!:
GOOD MORNING.
Vimes blinked. A tall dark robed figure was now sitting in the boat.
‘Are you Death?’
IT’S THE SCYTHE, ISN’T IT? PEOPLE ALWAYS NOTICE THE SCYTHE.
‘I’m going to die?’
POSSIBLY.
‘Possibly? You turn up when people are possibly going to die?’
OH, YES. IT’S QUITE THE NEW THING. IT’S BECAUSE OF THE UNCERTAINTY PRINCIPLE.
‘What’s that?’
I’M NOT SURE.

Daily Vimes:
Inigo looked down. He swallowed. Vimes had a knife, too. ‘You really are no gentleman, then,’ he said.
‘Make a sudden move and neither are you,’ said Vimes. ‘And now it appears that we have reached what Sergeant Colon persists in referring to as an imp arse.’
‘I assure you I will not kill you,’ said Inigo.
‘I know that,’ said Vimes. ‘But will you try?’

Daily Gaspode:
‘So? When she’s human-shaped she’s just like a human. And what’s that got to do with anything? Humans don’t like werewolves. Wolves don’t like werewolves. People don’t like wolves that can think like people, an’ people don’t like people who can act like wolves. Which just shows you that people are the same everywhere,’ said Gaspode. He assessed this sentence and added, ‘Even when they’re wolves.’

Looking like more vampires? I'm down.

Daily Detritus:
'There’s still wars with trolls up near the Hub, I hear. Tact and diplomacy will be called for.’
‘You have come to der right troll for dat, sir,’ said Detritus.
‘You did push that man through that wall last week, Detritus.’
‘It was done with tact, sir. Quite a fin wall.’

Pratchett vamps while also in the middle of D20 doing a vamp season. What a time to be alive.

Daily Granny & Death:
‘Am I dyin’?’
YES.
‘Will I die?’
YES.
Granny thought this over.
‘But from your point of view, everyone is dying and everyone will die, right?’
YES.
‘So you aren’t actually bein’ a lot of help, strictly speakin’.’
I’M SORRY, I THOUGHT YOU WANTED THE TRUTH. PERHAPS YOU WERE EXPECTING JELLY AND ICE CREAM?

This one has been very fun so far.

Daily Vampires:
‘That’s just a fashion item! Oh, I know she says she’s partial to a drop of port, but really it’s just blood in the glass. Henry actually brought a bottle to a party and she fainted at the smell!’
‘Henry?’ said the Countess.
Lacrimosa looked down sulkily. ‘Graven Gierachi,’ she said.
‘The one who grows his hair short and pretends he’s an accountant,’ said Vlad.

My friends, I am going to LOVE reading about Granny fucking these vampyres up:

‘Granny Weatherwax is going to hear about this, and you’ll wish you’d never been born . . . or un-born or re-born or whatever you are!’
‘We look forward to meeting her,’ said the Count calmly. ‘But here we are, and I don’t seem to see this famous lady with us. Perhaps you should go and fetch her? You could take your friends'

Granny vs. Vampires? Yes, please

Daily Death:
‘Your money,’ said the highwayman, ‘or your life. Which part of this don’t you understand?’
OH, I SEE. WELL, I HAVE A SMALL AMOUNT OF MONEY.
A couple of coins landed on the frosty road. The highwayman scrabbled for them but could not pick them up, a fact that only added to his annoyance.
‘It’s your life, then!’
The mounted figure shook its head. I THINK NOT. I REALLY DO.

Daily Death:
And I must say it’s a bit much of you to come here and gloat and eat prawns at me.’
I BEG YOUR PARDON?
‘Just because I’m being hanged in the morning, I mean.’
ARE YOU? THEN I SHALL LOOK FORWARD TO HEARING HOW YOU ESCAPED. I’M DUE TO MEET A MAN IN . . . IN . . . Death’s eyesockets glowed as he interrogated his memory. AH, YES . . . INSIDE A CROCODILE. SEVERAL HUNDRED MILES AWAY, I BELIEVE.

Daily Death:
And I must say it’s a bit much of you to come here and gloat and eat prawns at me.’
I BEG YOUR PARDON?
‘Just because I’m being hanged in the morning, I mean.’
ARE YOU? THEN I SHALL LOOK FORWARD TO HEARING HOW YOU ESCAPED. I’M DUE TO MEET A MAN IN . . . IN . . . Death’s eyesockets glowed as he interrogated his memory. AH, YES . . . INSIDE A CROCODILE. SEVERAL HUNDRED MILES AWAY, I BELIEVE.

Daily Footnote:

Again, when people like Mrs Whitlow use ["savages"] they are not, for some inexplicable reason, trying to suggest that the subjects have a rich oral tradition, a complex system of tribal rights and a deep respect for the spirits of their ancestors. They are implying the kind of behaviour more generally associated, oddly enough, with people wearing a full suit of clothes, often with the same insignia.

Daily Rincewind:

‘Haven’t you noticed that by running away you end up in more trouble?’
‘Yes, but, you see, you can run away from that, too,’ said Rincewind. ‘That’s the beauty of the system. Dead is only for once, but running away is for ever.’
‘Ah, but it is said that a coward dies a thousand deaths, while a hero dies only one.’
‘Yes, but it’s the important one.’