If Valentine’s Day isn’t the perfect time for a little prick and a bit of blood, then I just don’t know what’s what anymore.
I ordered a DIY Blood Typing kit from Think Geek several weeks ago, and figured last night was a wholly suitable time to find out my blood type once and for all. I’ve never known this information, and have often fantasized that it would be useful knowledge to have in case I need to perform an emergency tracheotomy with a ballpoint pen or remove myself from a list of murder suspects by process of elimination. I’ve given blood and had it forcibly removed from me many times, but I was never actually told what kind of blood I have, which led me to answering “red” on any form asking me for my blood type because I am so clever.
No more, though – now I know what kind of blood I have!
my bloody valentine
According to the decoding sheet, I’m B+. Woo! I’m valuable in England! Who wants some of my delicious juice? That’s right, anyone who is AB+ and needing a transfusion, baby!
A terrifying spectacle awaited me at my desk this morning:
"so who's YOUR ideal Valentine?" those are my only two choices? really? :(
Luckily, Ed knows me very, very well:
optimus prime + klw = TL4E <3 <3 <3
The scary card was also accompanied by a beautiful pot of orchids, which I will try my hand at keeping alive (I am notoriously bad at plants). Yay Valumtimes!
pretty!
I hope you have a happy day filled with chocolate and genitals!
I had always joked that I needed an Enhanced Driver’s License in case of emergency – if I ever needed to make an impromptu run for the border, I’d be able to do so at the drop of a hat. Therein lies the joke, see – what could possibly be an emergency that required leaving the country? Being out of Trader Joe’s trail mix is a terrible thing, but hardly an emergency. I would almost accept being desperate for good Mexican food, but if it were truly a matter of life and death, there are some passable places in Vancouver that are much easier to get to. And as much as we love Target for some reason, we don’t go there out of necessity – so what could be so critical that an unplanned expedition into the wilds of small town America has to happen immediately, with no time to fetch passports or ammo?
How about a motorcycle accident, with a (slightly) broken Josh?
Josh left Canada on Thursday to go riding/camping/being in Oregon for a while. He camped south of Mount Vernon on Camero Island for the night, but took a spill on his bike when heading out Friday morning and ultimately broke his collarbone. The bike is fine, but he was in a sling and trapped in a small town hospital (where they were amazed that he wasn’t on meth). We got word around noon that he needed rescuing, and we quickly took stock of our group: Shan was at work (with no passport), and couldn’t leave as she was the only one in the office – she wouldn’t be able to get Josh until the end of the day and after she had gone home to get ID and the van. Ed was in the middle of a multi-million dollar deal at work and crazy busy; it would be extremely difficult if not impossible for him to leave. Then there was me – I had my EDL, I drove the car into work that day to “run errands” (read: I was late and lazy), and have an awesome boss who would very likely understand the situation. I could be on the road in 4 minutes – just say the word. After some frantic calls back and forth and a quick talk with my boss (who wasn’t happy about my bailing but I’m making up the time in the office this afternoon to finish some work), I left the office at 12:30 to drive south and rescue Josh.
It was a long day, but I had Josh home by 9pm and in one piece. Travel insurance is a beautiful thing, and AAA/BCAA worked together to get his bike to the border and then to his house. We didn’t get axe murdered in the forest, met a real live Forest Ranger, saw a family of deer, and stopped at the duty-free for booze (Josh) and a huge bag of Urban Decay products (75% off cannot be beat). It took 410km and untold amounts of roaming long distance cell minutes, but he’s home and in a sling and full of prescription narcotics and that’s all that matters. I’m glad I was able to help out by getting him home, and thumb my nose at the naysayers who said the EDL is ridiculous – neener neener, there is too such a thing as an emergency run to the border, so there.
I have Secret Errands to run today, then I’m going into the office to finish some documentation I promised I’d have done yesterday afternoon. Sorry, guy – broken friend trumps making life easier for another company’s Help Desk, but I gotcha covered.
Yesterday, to my complete and utter humiliation, I caught a computer virus.
It happened at work, and was bad enough that I needed to get Desktop Support to help me remove it from my system. I was – and still am – totally embarrassed about this, because I should be exempt from these kinds of things.
I know that getting a virus isn’t a big deal and that it happens to most people, but that’s just it – I’m NOT “most people”. I’ve always been “that girl”; the one who’s really good with computers. If I’m not actually working as Desktop Support, I’m often the next best thing – people come to me with a computer problem and yo I solve it, often while a disc jockey plays or “spins” a catchy tune nearby. I’m good at this stuff. I don’t HAVE computer issues, let alone ones I can’t fix myself.
It’s all just so .. unseemly. Even the story of how I contracted the virus is shameful on multiple levels – everyone at the office in the know (ie those that read my blog) assumes I contracted the bad compu-mojo because I was looking for porn, but that’s not it. I mean, I WAS looking for porn in an attempt to solve Rosemary’s mystery, but that’s not what caused my virus. The real reason is much, much more humiliating than porn. Hell, you know me – I don’t know that I’ve ever been embarrassed by porn before, and I’m not going to start now.
I caught the virus while looking for pictures of Pokémon.
:|
It was a really bad virus, too. Within seconds, it had disabled Sophos, redirected all my bookmarks to other virus sites, popped up dozens of messages saying all my files were infected and I should click here to fix them now. My browser had a thousand proxies added, and task manager was killed. In short, I was completely hosed – I couldn’t do a damn thing to remove it. After fiddling for several minutes and growing more chagrined by the second, I finally admitted defeat for the greater good: having my own machine infected was bad enough, but if I brought down the network or infected others, I’d be done for (possibly in more ways than one). I confessed my situation to the IT guy, and he unplugged me from the network and set about fixing my computer. It took almost 3 hours, but eventually things came back to life with a clean bill of health and I am left with little more than the memory of my ABJECT HUMILIATION and a healthy fear of pocket monsters of all kinds.
Maybe these people are onto something. Pokemans are EVILS of SATAN!
Please excuse Kimli for being 7 minutes late for work this morning, as she was busy looking for lesbian porn.
Sincerely, the Internet.
I almost missed all the buses ever this morning because I dallied a little too long at my computer, trying to find a picture of two ladies kissing. It’s not my fault – Rosemary posted a girl-on-girl mystery that needs solving, and I’m never one to turn down a chance to play Nancy Drew. I didn’t have any luck during my brief search this morning, but the day is still young. You should play, too. Let’s solve the Mystery of the Bourgeois Decadence!
You know what’s not nearly as awesome as two ladies kissing? Being trapped in an elevator. Yesterday on my way home, the Spartan elevator broken down and I found myself trapped for several minutes. I wasn’t too worried – I had just done White Trash Groceries and wouldn’t starve – but I DID have to pee and I had almost no cell service. I’ve been wary of elevator help buttons after The Incident on Water Street, but after several minutes of standing around looking confused I finally pressed the button to get help. After all, I was completely trapped with bags of rapidly defrosting food and a full bladder – if ever there was a time I could use a knight in shiny armour to save the day, this would be it.
Yeeeeah, the help button in our elevator? Makes a doorbell sound. And that’s it. It’s not connected to a phone or walkie talkie or war room full of armoured knights waiting for damsels in distress – it just goes BONG! It didn’t help. I was seconds away from pulling out my phone to call 911 whine about my predicament on Twitter when the elevator made a huge lurch and started moving again. Hooray! None of the buttons were responding and my fob wouldn’t fob anything at all, but I made it to the first floor. That was good enough and I wasn’t about to get myself stuck again, so I hauled my trashy groceries upstairs and vowed to never leave home again .. which lasted for 30 minutes, because I realized we still had no mayonnaise and I really needed some.
The guy in the gas station was extremely confused at my mayo emergency.
Movie trailers in 2002 were just as obnoxious as they are today. To fully understand this post, you need to remember this commercial, which played NON-STOP that summer:
.. this was originally posted on August 16th, 2002:
camera pans over row after row of computers, hundreds of people hunched over their keyboards as a cry of “left! go left! red team is weak, take them out!” is heard over the roar of the crowd
Voiceover: You have to understand. These are some of the most dangerous maps in the game. Out here, you don’t just get fragged .. You get owned.
more camera shots, fast moving frames of DM6, scores, flick rail shots all set to a pounding drum beat. three people slumped over keyboards being shaken awake by a fourth, saying “hey. we’re up. get a move on!”
Voiceover: This summer, on the other side of paradise ..
camera pans to beautiful ocean view, rolling waves crashing onto the sand and beautiful people lounging about. quick slide to the left; camera shows a group of 7 girls walking in slow motion, keyboards slung over shoulders and headphones around necks
Voiceover: It’s not where you live, it’s how low your pings are.
funky dope rap music accompanies shots of the girls in front of computers, playing Q3. lots of energy; loud cheering whenever someone makes a kill. screen shows quad room in DM7; player gets quad and takes out 4 red opponents with 2 rails and a rocket. girls throw off headphones and start hugging and yelling.
Scene from movie: Cute Boy stands by row of computers, trying to talk to lead girl. Hesitantly, he asks “I was wondering if you’ve ever taught anybody. You know, how to play.” Camera angle changes to show girl packing up gear, wrapping headphone cord. Camera spends an inordinate amount of time focused on girl’s chest. Girl: “You mean, teach someone the game?” Boy: “Well, yeah.” Girl: “You might want to find a teacher who’s patient.” Boy: “And you’re ..?” Girl: “Not.”
more energetic music and shots of game play, girls fragging and getting fragged. lots of cheering, hugging, gratuitous boob shots
Voiceover: But if you want to be the best ..
Scene from movie: Seven girls looking up at projection screen filled with zombies. Girl 3, in awe: “You gotta be pro to handle something like this.
Voiceover: You’ve got to take the biggest risks.
camera pans to girls screaming at monitor, slamming mouse and throwing down headphones in frustration
Scene from movie: Girl 3: “You land a single rocket jump to the pillars and mid-air rail to take out 3 guys, you put yourself on the map.”
Cut to different scene: Burly Troll Guy: “What, you think you can play me for real?” Sassy Girl: “You know it.”
New scene: Girl setting up machine, joining server and running around to warm up. Girl 2: “What the hell is she doing?”
cue dramatic music
More scenes: Girl playing 1v1 on map 11, unable to find opponent. From spectator view, crowd can see Burly Troll Guy camping. Girl does not see his hiding spot. Rail shot rings out, Girl 2 yells “NO!”. Slow motion shot, mouse falling to the ground followed by headphones.
Voiceover: This summer ..
Camera pans to gang of Burly Troll Boys confronting Girl. Burly Troll Boy: “This game is for the big boys .. you don’t play here.” Boy shoves girl, who yells “Stop it!”. Cue Girl 3, who stands up to Burly Troll Boys: “Don’t touch her!” Fight starts, Troll Boys cry like little bitches.
Voiceover: There are moments where you can be anything ..
Scene: Cute Boy talking to Girl: “I know how much this means to you .. I just don’t want you to spend your life wondering what could have been.” Girl is at computer, tweaking config and cleaning mousepad.
Voiceover: Anything .. but a llama.
Scene: Girl 3: “You going back in there?” Girl: “Yup.” Girl 3: “Hey .. be careful?” Camera pans to room full of computers. Girl sits in front of one and puts on headphones, execs her config.
Loud rock music blares, scenes shown of girls playing games and getting frags, more crowd gathering to watch and cheering. Disgruntled Burly Troll Boys hold up signs saying “Stupid dyke whores, get back in the kitchen!” Girls high five each other, dance around to sexy music. Lots and lots of T&A shots. Boobs are everywhere. You can’t escape them. Boobs! Boobs! Everywhere, boobs! Shots of girls training, blindfolded running around maps and playing against nightmare bots, rail only. Pan to Cute Boy running up to the stage to kiss Girl; kiss is exchanged then Girl turns to Girl 2 and starts making out. Disgusted looks from Burly Troll Boys With Small Penises. Uplifting music about girl power plays on, more cleavage shots.
Final Scene: Seven girls standing in front of seven computers. Other side of the table are seven Burly Troll Boys in front of seven more computers. Girl: “Ready up, bitches. Think you can handle this?” Game starts “THREE .. TWO .. ONE .. FIGHT!”. Loud white flash bang takes us out.
Voiceover: This Summer ..
Big letters flash onto the screen with snazzy effects:
LLAMA CRUSH
These bitches got game.
–
I’m bored and unbelievably sick of seeing promos for Blue Crush. Leave me alone.
I used to fall down a lot. This was originally posted on May 28th 2004:
Hey kids! Tired of your regular action figures? Running out of interesting ways to make Barbie die? Frustrated with the logistics behind the new Surfer Ninja Web Cycle Street Fighting Spider-Man with Sewer Cap Hurling Action? Put down that Linkin Park CD, Timmy! Take off that black nail polish, Susie! We have the answer to all your prayers right here!
Be the first one on your block to get your very own PERILOUS KIMLI ACTION FIGURE! There are 12 in all — collect the whole set! The Perilous Kimli Action Figure is the ONLY figure to feature these exciting new technological breakthroughs:
Random Tripping Action! Perilous Kimli falls down again and again! (empty beer bottles not included)
Stigmata! Perilous Kimli is bleeding! Is it a religious miracle, or just another pizza sauce incident? Use your detective skills to figure out why!
Realistic Bruising and Burning! Dip Perilous Kimli in icy water and see her turn black and blue! Use hot water, and watch third degree burns appear like MAGIC!
Rotating Ankles! Take Perilous Kimli out for a stroll — but watch out! Her rotating ankles could give at any second, and then she’ll have to hobble!
Hyper-Sensitive Allergies! Expose Perilous Kimli to a laundry list of natural elements and watch her eyes swell shut and leak real tears! Serve Perilous Kimli a bowl of fruit at tea time and her throat will close up! Take Perilous Kimli on a night out on the town and watch what happens when alcohol is introduced — will she make it home alive? Only your imagination knows for sure!
All this and MORE, only available on the Perilous Kimli Action Figure! You don’t want to be left behind, do you? If you don’t get your very own Perilous Kimli Action Figure TODAY, all the cool kids will laugh at you and you’ll never get invited to play Seven Minutes in Heaven at Debbie’s birthday party and make out with Hunky Darryl or that cute girl who doesn’t wear panties! With 12 different varieties to choose from, there’s bound to be a Perilous Kimli out there just for you! Take a look at just some of the exciting and realistic styles:
Casting Action Perilous Kimli! Comes with her very own copy of Return to Castle Wolfenstein, a headset with microphone, and a pair of Casting Goggles to protect her from herself! Casting Kimli comes pre-banned from several IRC channels just for speaking her mind and not being a no-talent mindless drone!
Talking Perilous Kimli! Playtime is so much more fun when there’s a voice to act out your fantasies! Talking Perilous Kimli says 15 phrases, such as “OW!” “It’s all good!” “I like Ed’s wiener” “BOOBIES!” “Fuck hell damn ass bitch whore shit cock fuck damn!”. Talking Perilous Kimli comes with a scrambled voice chip, so you’re never really sure what she’s going to say next — she trips over her words and mixes up phrases, just like her mom! What’s that, Perilous Kimli? You want to go to the parking mall for a sandwich of Wednesday? Oh, you!
Perilous Action Kitchen Kimli! — Oh oh, Perilous Kimli is hungry and wants a snack! Figure comes with a jar of pizza sauce (dangerous), her very own oven (really dangerous), and a first-aid kit with bandages and painkillers!
Perilous Kimli, Closet Exhibitionist! Perilous Kimli is shy and demure, but just wait until you tie her into her very own Good Girl Corset! At the first sign of cleavage, Perilous Kimli drops her inhibitions and flaunts her ample bosom! Dress her up in some PVC and watch her go to town, working that rack from dusk til dawn! The more you stare, the tighter her corset gets until she’s practically breaking laws! She’s a dirty girl, isn’t she, and that shy act she has going on won’t fool you — Perilous Kimli takes it up the butt and *likes* it!
Perilous Kimli, Internet Superstar! She’s round and incoherent, but damned if she hasn’t convinced herself otherwise! Massage Perilous Kimli’s ego and watch her chest puff out with pride. Comes with her own over-hyped and generally annoying blog, customized clothing reminding the world of her greatness, and a giant chip on her shoulder!
Don’t delay — get your own Perilous Kimli today! Remember, if mom and dad don’t buy you what you want, it means THEY DON’T LOVE YOU!
I tripped on my way to work and landed heavily on my left hand. It hurts, and my knee hurts, and I only got 2 hours of sleep, and I feel like a sack of hell. But I have my very own Action Figure, so I figure right about now I’m a hell of a lot cooler than, say, that kid who made the page looking for an internet girlfriend, or that guy who dresses up like Peter Pan. Oh yeah. I’m the man.
Delicious Juice Dot Com will be ten years old next month, which is cause for epic celebration (likely in my mind only, but let me have my fun). I don’t know what I’m going to do for the big day – likely nothing – but in the meantime, I thought this would be a good time to start recycling some of my older content that you likely haven’t seen. It’s environmentally friendly – I’m saving electrons! And, um, I don’t have anything else to write about today, but pretend this is nostalgic and not lazy, okay?
Originally posted on December 15th, 2002:
Resume of DeeAy
Objective:
To obtain a position with an organization that allows me to utilize my current skill sets and gain others in an environment that encourages rapid growth, ethical problem solving, and little to no llamas.
Skills:
Can carry up to ten weapons at once
Able to kill a man with a single punch
Intimate knowledge of arming and disarming explosive devices
Feels no guilt for taking human lives; firm believer in “kill or be killed” mentality
Excellent communication skills
Powerful cleric able to heal party of adventures under duress of battle
Able to repair and maneuver anti-gravity motorcycles in a post-apocalyptic world
Team player willing to sacrifice self so that team may reach goal
Some sniper experience
Been known to be more than 100% healthy
Capable of acting as both terrorist and counter-terrorist
Undeterred from goals by death
Able to access high places via rocket propulsion with little damage to self
Can perform fakie 900 tail grab to iffy-stiffy
Able to drive cars at upwards of 150 miles per hour
Familiar with at least four different kinds of Super Soldier
Experience:
Destroyed 30 Ally Communication Towers to date
Research Associate in the Anomalous Materials Laboratory, Black Mesa Federal Research Facility
Saved world from Vorticons seven times, once while sleeping
Became tournament champion in three separate arena settings
Stopped H.A.R.M. plot to destroy/take over world on two separate occasions, often armed with no more than a barrette and lipstick
Was kindly god for several thousand villagers; communicated via large tiger
Successfully wielded John Romero’s Daikatana
Nursed mankind in infantile stages; eventually created civilization
Maintained household of adults with upwards of 8 friends, resulting in eventual baby
Defeated Diablo and Bael with magical ice arrows
Single-handedly (and again as group) eliminated Nazi threat from Germany
Member of the AMS; defeated Goldman’s Army of the Undead in London England
Been crowned “Godlike” for sniping abilities several times
Saved the Princess
Uncovered Covenant family curse
Former Holy Crusader turned Vampire by treacherous nun; survived through to modern day London and eventually traveled to New York to rid world of evil
Interests:
Discovering creative means of grenade/plasma-fueled propulsion, uncovering lost spells, cooking.
.. may break my bones, but words will haunt me forever.
I grew up in an verbally abusive environment. While I was able to eventually shake off a lot of the damage my mother did, I have an extreme tendency to internalize and dwell. I remember every bad thing ever said to me – not just by my mother, but also from years upon years of living online. I run in mostly decent circles now, so there’s a great deal less nastiness dished out on a daily basis – in fact, it almost never happens. It’s part of growing up, I think.
I don’t censor myself, but I do live by one hard and fast rule – don’t be a dick. I don’t want to hurt people’s feelings. I have an almost pathological need for people to like me (thankfully buffered by my overwhelming need to do what feels right; I’m not a doormat or sycophant), and I try really hard to be nice. I think I’m a good person. I’ll do anything to help a friend in need, or even people I don’t know. I just want to be a nice person; someone people think fondly of. I’ve had so many years of people saying horrible, terrible things to me – family members, friends, acquaintances, strangers – I don’t want to relive any of it.
Except I do, all the time, because I can’t let it go. I always remember the bad in crystal clarity – I go over it in my head again and again, turning it around and obsessing over it. Running in better circles than I did a lifetime ago has helped a lot – time heals most wounds, after all – but not everyone subscribes to the “don’t be a dick” way of life, and I’ve spent the last several weeks obsessing over some recent hateful words. I don’t want to, but I can’t stop. I waffle between sadness and red-hot fury, unable to find peace. Worse, it’s bringing back memories of other things said to me that I thought I had gotten over, and I’m existing in an ominous cloud of doubt and stress. I hate that words have this kind of power over me. I hate the hypocrisy of it all. I hate the aftermath; knowing that I’m going to lose (or have already lost) friends if I can’t get over it. I hate knowing that I’m the only one suffering, because no one else cares if I’m bullied. I hate that people don’t know or care; think that the attack on me was cute or hilarious. I hate that I’m being shut out because I’m not okay with being treated like that. I hate being hurt.
(I’ve been away from the internet for the last two days, taking a Sharepoint 2010 class – I had no internet, so I couldn’t post snarky remarks about the length of the instructor’s pants. The horror!)
Last night I didn’t organize Schnitzelfest 2011, and it was awesome. So very German! We commanded a large table featuring many of my favourite people, and it was quite groaning with schnitzel and cabbage and sauerkraut and spätzle and Winter Dunkel and other assorted German food which is still all weird to me. Armed with the memory of my stolen nibbles from our last visit, I had the rinderroulade which came stuffed with hidden mushy pickles (not a fan) and onions and additional meats:
rrrrinderroulade!
As good as the food is, it’s secondary to the real reason we go to the Vancouver Alpen Club: the dancing. Oh, the dancing! There is something kind of magical about watching old couples dance – for all our snooty hipster cynicism and tendency to jeer at anything that isn’t future retro bohemian punk cool, watching people twirl about on the dance floor having a wonderful time makes my heart grow at least three sizes.
:3
Even the scary man at the front door accosting people for money couldn’t dampen our spirits – we had to rescue several of our party from giving him money (you pay if you’re there to dance; we were there to eat and watch) and he ended the evening hovering over Shan and I with creepy overtones, but the rest of the evening was too fun to waste any time dwelling on the angry man and his angry suspenders. Besides, how can you feel intimidated by an old man and his beer belly when Superman himself was in the next room?
During our last visit to the Alpen Club, the Euro Band rocked the house with their polka-flavoured goodness. This time, the Al Pichler and his Alpiners played – and while Al and his accordion were great and all, the drummer was friggin’ Superman himself. Not only did he keep perfect jaunty time with his drums, he multitasked while doing it – for most of their set, he played the trumpet at the same time. He was amazing! Every time I looked over, he was doing different things – playing the drums and the trumpet; playing the trumpet and the maracas, drumming and singing. The highlight of the night was probably the band’s rendition of Glenn Miller’s In the Mood; Superman drummed the entire song, trumpeted the famous brass lines, AND sang the verses. It was incredible to watch, and I am in awe of his talent. So much fun!
Our waitress was authentic German and completely adorable (and also gave us free lava cake because they ran out of chocolate mousse), and she handled our ridiculously complicated bill with ease and aplomb. Last night was the first visit to the club for most of our group, and while I can’t speak for all of them, I know that Ed had a great time which makes me full of happy. He even wants to go back, and we’re planning on taking his parents there if they ever come visit. I know his mom will love it – how can you not? It’s just .. happy!
in 40 years this is going to be us, dancing to classical hip hop
this is my new secret spy phrase: the schnitzel is breaded
this is from our first visit, and wasn't there anymore - paul found his lederhosen !!!
delicious juice dot com 