I didn’t get Oscar back until 4pm on Saturday, but he was worth the wait. I haven’t been able to fully test his new superpowers yet because I have to break in the new parts, but he definitely seems a lot peppier and he wants to go fast. I have another 150km to go at 60km/h before I can start to test the speed limits, and I can’t wait. If the weather stays nice for the rest of the day I may knock some of those km off tonight because the sooner I break stuff in, the sooner I can go fast. I would like to go fast. It is frustrating, keeping my speed at 60. Ed tells me it is in my best interest though, as the following things could happen if my speed goes above 60km/h:

• I could turn into a pumpkin
• I will go back in time
• Dennis Hopper will come out from somewhere and be threatening
• I will never be born
• A really bad sequel will be made only with a tricycle instead of a scooter
• I could seize the cylinder and Oscar would be broken
• Zombie apocalypse

So you see, I must behave myself for a little while longer. I am not usually known for my restraint, but I am showing some here.

Last night there was cake! Shan and Josh brought me an ice cream cake to celebrate Delicious Juice Dot Eight and also because I didn’t get a birthday cake last year. It was awesome, and we ate until we were all lactose intolerant. I love DQ ice cream cakes. It was appropriately themed and everything:

mmm .. fishy

Hooray for Josh and Shan! I was so delighted that I didn’t even mind that they caught me doing something extremely embarrassing when they arrived!

I’m trying really hard to ignore my inbox at work, because I think I’m in for a really shitty day. Maybe if I sit here hard enough, it’ll all go away. My wild theories have worked before – just this morning I decided I was going to sit on my naked ass at home until it stopped raining, and it WORKED. The rain stopped, I put on pants, and here I am – ready to avoid my inbox until I turn blue. It’s a good plan. I’m starting to look a little grayscale even now.

Delicious Juice Dot Com is 8 years old today. Hooray!

Each year we hit this milestone I am amazed anew – I never knew I had so much to say, or that people would still be reading me after all this time.  I know it’s just a dumb little website, but I’m very fond of it and a little proud, too. I’ve thought a couple times about ending it, but the notion usually lasts for about 3 seconds before I realize that I don’t *want* to stop writing and I *like* having a blog and even when I am not dazzlingly entertaining, someone will be out there reading what I had to say. That is a very comforting thought, not in the least because if I slipped in the shower and broke my neck, eventually someone would wonder why I haven’t been posting and maybe try to find me before the cats could eat my face.

I would like to take this opportunity to ask for a present, because it is my e-birthday: please deleurk and say hello. There’s been a lot of traffic ’round these parts but very little activity in the comments, so please take the time to say hi. If you’re new here, introduce yourself! If you’re old here, tell me what your favourite Delicious Juice post is! Stroke my ego – it’s my birthday, and I’ll be a diva if I want to.

Okay, it’s not MY birthday, but you get the idea.

Hooray for 8 years of Delicious Juice Dot Com! Here’s hoping I never run out of things to say!

festive domo enjoys your company

• It’s Friday
• I have bacon
• It’s payday
• There is a flower in my hair:

why no i don't own a hairbrush

• By 5pm I will have 150ccs of raw scooter power between my legs
• The horrible owl of cancer has not befallen me
• Ed starts his new job on Monday and we will soon return to our usual status of DINKs instead of one underpaid technical trainer and her disappointingly fully clothed consort

These are all good things! So, who cares if:

• The salary freeze is still in effect (y’all) and I may never get a raise let alone paid at the bare minimum of my salary band
• It’s raining and the forecast calls for more rain
• Ed’s going to Toronto for a week and I’ll have no one to entertain with my witty musical social commentary in the evenings
• I may not be able to get my hands on a DSi the instant it comes out, which’ll negatively affect my level of cool on the playground
• I have to spend the entire day dicking around in Power Point
• I somehow skipped the sexy part of having a raspy voice and moved right into boy-on-the-verge-of-puberty
• Delicious Juice Dot Com turns 8 on Monday and I don’t have anything planned because Ed nixed my idea of “my favourite posts from ago” as a crappy idea

How’s by your Friday?

As an added bonus, I’m just three ducks in a man suit here’s an in-depth look at how my brain works. The title of this post really has nothing to do with the content, so why did I use it?

my post is mostly bullet points -> Smashing Pumpkins wrote a song called “Bullet with Butterfly Wings” -> “despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage” always sounded to me like “despite all my rage i am still just shredded cheese” -> shredded cheese goes on nachos -> nachos are good with salsa -> one time I got too excited and I spurted salsa onto the ceiling -> Lionel Ritchie dances on the ceiling -> Lion-O is the leader of the Thundercats – Thundercats are on the move – hey, that would make a good title for a post about nothing

It is incredibly entertaining inside my head at all times.

I am too sick to write and too miserable to care, except I DO care and I feel like an utter ball of failure for a) being sick AGAIN and b) flaking out on my updates.

I’m working from home again today – I’ve propped myself up in my chair with cardboard and bungee cords – but I’m really fucking pissed at myself for being sick. I know that’s irrational and pretty stupid, but I can’t help it – I am very angry at my inability to NOT get a sinus infection every year thanks to my uncontrollable allergies.

I’m also mortified that this new sickness and subsequent days out of the office come mere weeks after my employee review, in which the only thing I got in trouble for was the number of sick days I’ve taken. FUCK! Because, you know, I absolutely want to spend my time at home worrying myself sick(er) that I’m going to lose my job because my sinuses are trying to drain themselves out through my various orifii and the fact that when I move my head, I see colour trails. Yep, this is just super.

At least I now know why it felt like someone had punched me in the face on Sunday – my sinuses were getting this party started. Thanks, guys! I hate you so hard!

I’ve been cranky for the better part of a week now. I’m hoping this stupid infection is the reason for my grievin’ – I am not normally this morose at all times. This past weekend was pretty much a write-off save for spots of good now and then, and it all led up to Spite Dildos on Sunday night.

Now that Ed has a shiny new job (that he starts next Monday; his start date was pushed back a week) he’s been spending his severance pay on Various Things. A good portion of it went to pay down our debt, but we decided he should keep some of it and have himself some Good Times because sometimes it’s just fun to throw caution to the wind and boost the economy a little via your own selfish wants and needs.  The last time I came into a pocket of surprise money like this I definitely went on a consumer bender, so I encouraged his plan (not in the least swayed by the promise of a zippy stage 2 upgrade for Oscar that’ll turn him into a 150cc scooter :D). Ed decided that he would like to get into mountain biking, and as his single-speed cruiser (with a nice basket) is not really suitable for trails, he did a bunch of research into some bikes. The North Shore is world-famous for mountain biking and there are a dozen stores each with their own set of super knowledgeable scenesters, so Ed spent most of Friday on demo rides and browsing catalogs.

Coincidentally, Josh’s bike was stolen from work last week and he too was in the market for a new mountain bike. The two of them made a date for Saturday to go looking at bikes, and after 8 hours of shopping, they made up their minds and purchased two bicycles from a shop off Lonsdale.

None of this really affected me at all, except that I spent the day alone. It was nice out, so I went for a super scoot and did some errands I had been putting off for a while. Ed didn’t come home until almost 8pm, after which he immediately went out for a bike ride. Okay, cool. I spend time by myself all the time; one day won’t kill me. I did manage to make Ed promise we would spend part of Sunday together, though, as I had a specific errand I wanted to run and he wanted to come with me: I am out of dildos, and it was time to go shopping for more.

I could easily do it by myself – in fact, I sort of wanted to – but Ed insisted he wanted to come with me, so I agreed that I would wait to go after brunch on Sunday.

After dim sum, Josh and Ed decided they wanted to go to MEC for more toys to go with their new bikes. Shan had a dance class to go to, and since it was sunny and I was as of yet not incapacitated by my sinusy death, I went for another solo scooter ride. I wasn’t as gracious about it this time, but scooting alone is better than not scooting at all. I went to Deep Cove and accidentally up a mountain and all around the North Shore before I went home, reasoning that if Ed were also back from his boy time we would have plenty of time to hop back on our scooters and go look at dildos. After all, he promised we would go.

I played video games to pass the time, but Ed didn’t come home until almost 5pm – far too late for dildos. I was angry, not only because I was out of dildos and wanted to buy some more, but because he had promised we would spend some quality “couple time” in the sex store and I hate it when promises are broken. Also, I had no dildos. Could he not see that this was a problem?!

Unbeknownst to Ed, I had gotten fed up with his inability to tell the time long before he got home. I did some online shopping – specifically, I placed a hefty order at Good Vibrations. If I could not go to dildos, the dildos would come to ME. Take that, dumb husband! I actually spent a good amount of time researching various sex toys, and made a startling discovery – while I would dearly love to support local businesses and buy all my filthy sin sticks at Womyn’s Ware on Commercial, they charge almost double what other places charge for the exact same toys. I could go to WW and buy one dildo for $145, or I could shop online and get 5 things for the same price – including this USB-charged vibrator that I am very excited about because that is hilarious and awesome at the same time.

I let Ed grovel for a while with apologies before letting him know that I didn’t need his stupid self to come to the store with me, but I *would* let him pay the Visa bill when it came in. I am an awesome wife.

Anyway, my order shipped yesterday. It should be here hopefully this week, at which point I will gleefully charge the USB vibrator and also hit Ed over the head with the enormous dildo I bought out of spite and horniness (because honestly I was really shopping for replacement vibrators since all of mine are old and broken and sad, not dildos). It’s not the Rambone – a girl has to work her way up to that in more ways than one – but it’ll do.

I am woozy with medication and a longing for pretzels.

Um, none of the above links are safe for work. I probably should have mentioned that sooner.

And I wonder why workplace networks continually flag my site as pornographic :(

I wasn’t planning on writing about this under penalty of torture, but I am far too amused and sadomasochistic to keep my embarassment to myself: I spent my Saturday afternoon as a 15 year old girl.

I went out intending to buy video games and monster trucks and Swedish bikini twins, but instead came home with .. infomercial-strength zit cream and a copy of Twilight on DVD.

I’m so sorry. My curiosity got the better of me. There will be a great deal of heckling – I’m quite confident I will find the movie hilarious beyond all imagining – and secretly, I *do* find the sparkly vampire to be fantastically pretty. I will enjoy looking at him. Shut up.

In an attempt to distract you from my utter mortification, here is a picture of the deep and meaningful art display from this earlier post:

don't laugh at me, laugh at this

Clearly, this is far funnier than me and you should laugh really hard at it.