Seriously, this is what happens:

Wake up in the mornin’ feelin’ like V. Wrynny
Got my totems, I’m out the door, I’m gonna hit this city
Before I leave, brush my teeth with a pint of the Captain
‘Cos when I leave for my BG – comin’ back? that ain’t happenin’

Don’t stop ’til it pops
GM, buff my class way up
Tonight, I’mma fight
‘Til my honor’s all right
Tick tock, queue goes up
but the BGs don’t stop, no

Yeah, there’s something wrong with me.

Dear WOW players,

I know that keeping the names of various abilities straight isn’t easy, especially when there are so many of them. But I think we can pretty much all agree that we’re never going to see priests casting Presence of Mind. Thus:

• POM (or PoM if you’re feeling pretentious) is Prayer of Mending.
• PROM is what you attended when you were a junior and senior in high school. (Or will attend, if you want to make me feel old.)

We don’t need “ProM” to distinguish our healing spell from the mages’ self-buff. Nobody’s actually going to make that mistake. Yes, a mage can occasionally have POM and POM on at the same time, but here’s a protip: it doesn’t actually matter unless you’re making the point that you can have POM and POM on at the same time.

Remember: POM is a spell. PROM involves formalwear. You can remember this with this simple mnemonic: “R is wRong.”

Thank you for your time. Refreshments will be served by the mages.

-Chris

The Reason That The Arguments In Favor Of RealID Doing Exactly What Blizzard Wants It To Are Missing The Mark: a play in three acts.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

BOB, a person who loves flowers.
ALICE, a person who grows flowers.
LINDA, a mutual friend who doesn’t really speak for either of them.

ACT ONE

BOB: Boy, it sure would be nice to have some roses around the house.
ALICE: Growing roses sounds like an interesting idea! I’ll see about it for next year’s garden.
LINDA: I can’t wait to see Alice’s roses!

ACT TWO

BOB: Hey, did you get around to planting those roses?
ALICE: I’m working on it! I think you’ll be really excited when you see them.

ACT THREE

ALICE: Hey Bob, here are your tulips!
BOB: These are great, but I was really looking for roses.
LINDA: Shut up! These are what Alice wanted to grow.
BOB: Okay, but they’re really not what I wanted OR what I asked for.
Alice is silent.
BOB: I guess Alice never actually SAID she was planting roses, and I should be grateful for getting anything at all, but I’m just not as fond of how tulips look.
LINDA: Just don’t use them if they’re not what you wanted.
BOB: That’s not… it doesn’t have to be black and white. I’m just saying, I was hoping for roses, not tulips.
LINDA: Why can’t you get it into your head that you don’t always get what you want?
BOB: Okay then.

Exeunt omnes.

~FIN~

Warning: this dog is shaggy.

The druids of Teldrassil were certain that they had a powerful new weapon against the Scourge. With the help of Denalan, they had bred new species of plants with innate offenses – some had spikes, others released poison clouds, still more could lob dense seeds over long distances. The plants seemed to work well against the elementals rampaging around Lake Al’Ameth, but when the druids received word that the Defias were threatening Northshire Abbey and that plagued wolves were coming over the border, they saw an opportunity to test the plants on humanoids and to start their work against the Scourge. So they packed their seedlings up and traveled to Stormwind.

At Northshire, the tests went well: the plants proved an apt defense against the Defias and helped to drive back the plagued wolves. The druids were excited about the prospects for reclaiming what were now the Plaguelands, until one morning they awoke to find their plant defenses gone, dug up in the middle of the night. It seemed that some members of the Brotherhood of Northshire had gone rogue, corrupted by the Defias, and had stolen the plants and broken ranks. Through spyglasses the druids could see their plants freshly sown around Garrick Padfoot’s shack, flowering gaily in the sun and surrounded by the rogue clerics. The druids who went to retrieve their work were driven back by their own defenses.

In desperation – for they couldn’t reclaim their work and didn’t want the plants to fall into the hands of Edwin VanCleef – the druids called on the dwarves of Ironforge, who came to Northshire with a herd of rams, specially chosen for their vast stomachs. In the dead of night, they sent the rams across the river, with shepherds to make sure that the ravenous beasts ate only the druids’ plants and didn’t bother Milly Osgood’s vineyards. The rams, however, turned up their noses at the plants, and the shepherds finally had to drag them back across the river to the abbey.

The druids were devastated. Now, they thought, it was only a matter of time before VanCleef fortified the Deadmines with rows of their fighting flora. They sent word to Gryan Stoutmantle at Westfall Keep to be prepared, but were shocked when Stoutmantle himself came riding up the next day. “You’ve been going about it all wrong,” he said, and gestured behind him, where human shepherds had corralled the sheep that roamed Elwynn Forest. “Is that all of them?” he called.

The head shepherd nodded. “All the females, sir!”

“Then send them in!” Stoutmantle rode forth and the sheep and shepherds followed, and within minutes the sheep were happily munching on druid-enhanced plants while the druids themselves looked on in shock.

“How did you succeed with common sheep when the stout rams of Ironforge could not?” demanded one of the dwarves.

Stoutmantle laughed. “The druids would have known too if they’d paid attention to the flyers being distributed in Stormwind. Any human child could tell you-

Only ewes can prevent florist friars.“