Title: Touchdown
(Chax looks on with his claw arm trapped in the overseer's pincers as Aun is overturned and falls on his back on top of the creature. Aun's backpack spills and sheds some of its contents, including a capsule of eluctuant and another capsule of some other substance. Both of them crack ominously...)
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Thanks!

Health Improving
Too Much Power…
However, it seems that while wrestling with setting up the heavy generator, I dealt my back a blow from which it has yet to recover. I am therefore bedridden for now, and so am postponing the next entry of Botaram to the coming Monday.
Until!
Sandstorm
Botaram Returns T(hurs)day!
Botaram Returns Today!
UPDATE: I find the most curious ways of shooting myself in the foot. Please hold on a bit longer…
UPDATE UPDATE: Life’s kicking me in the pants at the moment. I haven’t forgotten.
What’s going on…
Nevertheless, I am assigning a firm date for Botaram’s return; I expect to be back in the saddle on Monday, September the third. I trust that I will not be proven wrong.
To those who are still checking in, I thank you for bearing with me.
More Tomfoolery
A Strasmin who sought Botaram
Said “I fear that my plan is a sham.
When I stammer, or yammer,
It hammers my grammar—
A glamour flim-flammer I am.”
An Oistrem was heard to complain
That her brain was too plain to contain
The pain and the strain
Of her deigning to feign
An arcane campaign of disdain.
“I’d abstain from all ledgerdemain,
For I’m fain this domain to explain.
But again, it pertains
To disdainful refrains
Which remain too insane to restrain.
“I’ll explain ere I get a migrane,
For this chain or chicane is my bane.
And my gain, in the main,
Lies in what I maintain:
That my brain, split in twain, is insane.”
…inuviabentidguvor-
jiokundialunedikor-
pevasoziurandi-
asmalidrukanti-
bisgarwisalalunizor…
Still Alive…
This is no excuse for shirking my duties, so here are some Botaram limericks while I work this out:
A Strasmin once said, “My intent
Is at odds with what I think you meant.
What you do with your rod
Makes you smile and nod,
But the bent of my rod is to frent.”
There once was an Oistrem named Guaz-
marenchubiavhufarataz-
hulemdiorivu-
stamcapuhitiwu-
suntalahinumashabaz…
(second draft)
There once was an Oistrem tagged “Guit,”
Who said “Now that I’ve gotten to it,
I strongly intuit
This gooey conduit
Will not suffer me to pass through it.
“It was simple from far off to view it,
But if I press on, I shall rue it,
Though I hew it, the goo, it
Renews just as true. It
Is prudent, I think, to say
‘This path brings me no closer to my objective and I shall reconnoiter to find one that might bear better fruit.'”
Until!