the famous variant

One of my variants is super famous for some reason, to the point of having a dressing room rider to ensure their/my every desire is met before and after a performance/event/coup/insurgency/orgy/etc.

This is our rider:

  • 12 x 2 litre bottles of cold Diet Coke with an expiry date no sooner than 2 months out of the current date
  • 6 coolers full of ice (4 for bottle storage, 2 for ice for drinks)
  • 6 large bottles of ice cold Dasani water
  • 4 bottles of Cherry Blackberry Mio water enhancer
  • 2 party-sized bottles of Mott’s Clamato (Extra Spicy)
  • 2 tins of Matt and Steve’s Caesar Rimmer
  • 1 large bottle of Tabasco sauce
  • 1 large bottle of Worcestershire sauce
  • 3 limes cut into wedges
  • 12 large drinking glasses
  • 12 reusable straws
  • 4 fresh fruit platters
  • 1 x large bowl of baby carrots
  • 1 x large bowl of cherry or grape tomatoes
  • 1 x large container of jalapeno ranch dressing
  • Random selection of adult items from this site only
  • Bouquet of dahlias in random colours
  • Electronic charging station with lightning, USB-C, and mini-USB connections (x4 each)
  • Peanut M&Ms in a serving dish shaped like a pineapple (not an actual pineapple)
  • Secure, fast wi-fi
  • 2 x Flopping sofa, for flopping
  • 3 x pairs of scissors

It’d be nice to demand this stuff, but let’s face it – I’d be mortified to make demands of anyone, let alone a list of things I need for my own comfort. Don’t get me wrong, I love to be comfortable .. but this is all stuff I’d bring myself so no one else would have to worry about it. I don’t go anywhere without my own Diet Coke, reusable tumbler/straw, and emergency Mio supply. If I want a Caesar while I’m out of the house, I’ll get it myself. Ditto M&Ms. When I was in the hospital last, I got in trouble for doing my own medication injections and tech support on the devices they left plugged into me. What? I’m very self-sufficient, until it comes to spider removal and phone calls.

What’s on your rider?

sellout sunday: meatwave

The wicker suitcase full of sauce I received last week had both a flavour and a purpose: it was time for a meat wave!

President’s Choice is relaunching some of their meat prodcuts with fancy titles: air-chilled chicken, anti-biotic and hormone-free beef and pork, cow parts with certification, etc. The sauces (and the wicker suitcase, which keeps getting mentioned because it is completely awesome) were merely a bonus to go along with my real project: go to a Real Canadian Superstore armed with an assortment of coupons that would allow me to get FREE MEAT, then cook said meat for eating times. Hooray!

Ed and I made our way to the store on Saturday, where we picked up some Tender and Tasty steak, a package of Air Chilled chicken drumsticks, and a rack of Free From pork ribs. Also, I bought two tank tops and a bag of M&Ms. We loaded our scooters up with our FREE MEAT and made our way back home to begin the process of marination for delicious experimentation.

Fun fact: I am not good at buying ribs, either. It’s common knowledge that I cannot eat things off bone – I can’t do wings or ribs or t-bone steaks – but it would appear that I am also a fail at the purchasing of ribs for other people to eat. The first rack I picked up caused a massive meat tsunami that I had to fix, and then I had to choose and re-choose my pork – ribs look like spinal columns. I can’t cook spinal columns. It is just a great big NO.

The suitcase sauces were both President’s Choice brand: a steak marinade, and a “Memories of Dad’s Grill” sauce with maple, apple and beer flavour. We used the memory sauce on the ribs, the steak sauce on the steak, and my favourite jerk sauce on the chicken, then told Josh and Shan to get their asses over to our place because there was no way in hell the two of us could eat that much meat. It’s good to share, and also I am not interested in achieving death by protein. We were worried that the Dad Sauce was going to be too sweet, so we added some freshly ground chili pepper to the marinades and let it all sit in the fridge for several hours.

It did come to pass that grilling things inside the house is not a good idea. We used a stovetop grill (being too lazy to actually fire up the BBQ), which worked wonderfully but made the apartment smoky as all hell. We had to open all the windows and use several fans to clear some of the smoke, and everything sort of smelled like pork for the rest of the night which is not necessarily a bad thing. A little paranoid about uncooked meat and having the fire department called on us, we sent Josh downstairs to finish the cooking process on a real BBQ while Shan and I lounged about idly, eating fruit. Excellent.

With the meat all cooked and smelling wonderful and the air in our apartment clearing a little, we dove into the mountain of flesh with delight. It was all really, really good – the steak in particular lived up to the name “Tender and Tasty”. The Dad Sauce on the ribs actualy turned out to be lovely and not at all overly sweet, and the chicken drumsticks were fantastic with the jerk sauce. All in all, it was the tastiest selling out I’ve ever done. I would gladly eat a large pile of meat in the name of consumer science any time.

This is all fine and good for the North Shore crew, but the FREE MEAT isn’t just limited to the awesome (ie: us). President’s Choice will be giving out coupons for FREE MEAT this Wednesday in Vancouver, Calgary, Toronto, Montreal and Halifax from 4 to 6pm. They’ll be moving from Skytrain/C-Train/Subway/Bus station to station until all the coupons are gone, so be on the look out for people dressed as butchers (see where I was going with that whole “beware the butcher” thing? yeah, I plan this shit out). I can probably guarantee that the butchers will most likely NOT chase you around a dungeon with a meat cleaver, but just in case, be ready to grab your FREE MEAT coupon and run.

FREE MEAT! Delicious.

saucy meat goodness

saucy meat goodness

not quite what i had in mind

I received a huge package at work today. It was unexpected, according to my iPhone (I keep an ongoing list of things I am expecting in the mail on my phone because I am just that anal retentive), so that automatically made it exciting. Given my previous post whining about needing some fun and stimulation, I fervently hoped that this box would contain just the thing I needed to shake myself from this perpetual, confusing fog.

Unfortunately, things rarely work out the way I envision them:

not exciting.

not exciting.

It would seem that I have been fated to clean all weekend, instead of experiencing life at its fullest.

How disappointing.

Still, the giant box of cleaning goods will come in handy. Sasha insists upon depositing horrible fluids all over our floor, and there are some questionable stains that I will attempt to remove with the help of those magic erasers.

I suppose this is pure karmic hilarity, though: I had a tantrum last week demanding, among other things, more magic in my life.

Very funny, universe.

selling out for fun, not profit

I’ve tried for a very long time to hold fast my morals and scruples and ethics, but at the end of the day all it gets me is a smug sense of self-imagined superiority and no fun toys. I don’t make any money off my website and will continue to stand firm and proud in my clearance bin pants and ramen noodles, but as of today I will officially be accepting products from various companies in exchange for a review or shout out.

I’ve done this in the past, of course, but on a more discreet scale. For some reason I’ve always felt slightly awkward about placing the Delicious Juice Stamp of Approval on things for fear of selling out to the man, but when you really look at it, who the hell is ever going to look for my personal thumbs up before they try something? I’m usually awash with false modesty, but let’s be realistic here: no one reads my website to learn about advances in personal gadgetry; they come for the hardcore nudity and swearing and also for the flow charts.

I feel that I must stress – probably needlessly, but I didn’t become a millionaire on my ability to hold things in – that my words will not change in any way. My style is still very much my own, regardless of what I’m writing about. Mops or boobs, fabric softener or scooters – it’s all Kimli, all the time. I don’t feel any sort of pressure for or against saying things like “this frozen creamed spinach is fucking awesome; I would totally have sex with it if I was ever in the mood to have carnal relations with leafy plants from Nepal” or to stop making broad sweeping generalizations with sly references to Star Trek and comic books I read once when I was 11. It’s all good. It just means I have a few more mystery packages on the way.

You’ll still love me if I sell out a little bit, right?