It all started out so innocently. Great Cthulhu‘s pal Yoggi had recommended a great new book that he’d discovered at Comic-Con. When Great Cthulhu heard the intriguing title, he decided to check out the competition:
That was just the start. What followed was more than mortal mind could bear; the diabolically warring pantheons, pitted against one another to the death in an unholy war whose fury warped the very fabric of space and time, fought and tore, destroying universes uncounted in their savage thirst for victory. Finally, there were only two left. What happened then remains an unspeakable secret to this day…or does it?
An ancient representation purported to be an actual, contemporaneous image of the final confrontation has surfaced. Make of it what you will, but in the name of all that is holy, do NOT stare at it directly. Use a handy mirror or goggles to protect yourself from the annihilating horror of the eldritch image you are about to view.
Not only is she PRETTY sure she saw Colin Freaking Firth down in Gastown today, but she got all her paid blogging done by 10am, she got invited on a Bobwheeling ride-along, AND she picked up all of the following for a grand total of less than $30:
DVD of The House on Haunted Hill starring, again, Vincent Price. I understand the actual house has been torn down, which is a bloody shame and just goes to show you LA has no sense of history.
DVD of The Ice Harvest, which I only bought because I’m a sucker for a John Cusack movie. Well, because I’m a sucker for a John Cusack movie and a caper film. Well, because I’m a sucker for a John Cusack movie and a caper film and a dark, twisted comedy.
When the hell did I switch to the first person, anyway? Being up in the daytime has COMPLETELY discombobulated me.
A lovely pink lacy cardigan that covers mah butt.
A lovely ombre baby blue cardigan that, again, covers mah butt.
UPDATE: I forgot to mention the beautiful blue/grey houndstooth hipster sombrero and the $80 wrestling boots I picked up at the DemiCouture sale at W2 on Sunday. But I DID! The wrestling boots are black Reeboks, which will wear out in no time but are cushy as the road to Hell in the meantime, and being black ankle boots make me feel like Batgirl every time I put them on. And the two of them together cost me $15. YES, you SHOULD hire me to do your shopping. 10% of gross and I’m yours.
And as I was rooting through the rather random assortment of DVDs there and passing up some awesome films like A History of Violence because it was $9.99 instead of $1.99 like the others and it’s Cronenberg and how many times can you watch that, really, even if you ARE a Viggofan? one of the Army Navy staffers walked by, uttered a squawk, and grabbed the Mamma Mia which I’d moved from in front of the much more interesting Van Helsingwhich isn’t actually an interesting movie unless you’re fascinated by the optical illusion of the cross-stitch on Kate Beckinsale’s bodice (are those nipples or are they…?) or by the sheer sexual magnetism of Hugh Jackman, which gosh, nobody we know would be, would she now?
This is after having been bitten. But of course I would not be. Because I know you stay OUT of the mall and head INTO the swimming pool, duh. Zombies hate water more than Persian cats do. Everybody knows that, but I’ll be the only one to remember it come Zombiepocalypse, you wait and see.
which is a reference to a noirish Robert Bloch Christmas story you probably haven’t read, but when you realize he’s the guy who wrote Psycho, you’ll sort of get the idea.
[Update: I have been informed that the segue between Bloch, raincoaster, and Cthulhu is too abrupt: I would have thought it a continuum, rather, but here we go with the explication: Bloch was a pal of HP Lovecraft’s. HP Lovecraft wrote the Cthulhu Mythos stories, and Bloch wrote a couple himself, inspired by the master. raincoaster is…well, raincoaster.]
So, what did raincoaster do today?
Had lunch with a pal and got a nice tour of the Naramata Bench or portions thereof, narrated. What is the point of a drive without a story, I ask yez?
Spent several so-far-fruitless hours trying to get the new Jesus Phone activated (The Sister is paying, The Sister is in Ottawa, the Fido company insists on her being physically present with the credit card. ALTHOUGH they accept internet orders, but then she’d have to mail me the SIM card. Fortunately, I’m up in PTown and the standards of service here are nothing short of consistently amazing, and I say that as a jaded city dweller, so the Fido store manager at Cherry Lane is working it out with the store manager at Bayshore so my sister can go in, present her card, and Cherry Lane will instantly get the phone up and running and call me to come pick it up, which is more than I’d expect of any shop in Vangroover over the Christmas holidays and that’s for sure and certain, but where was I? Oh yes, closing the parenthesis).
And did you know that in PTown the most desirable real estate is in the zone called “Between the malls?” Yes, just downhill from the industrial flats. Just what I’m looking for in a home: waddling distance to Zellers and the food court.
Then, came home, made a dinner of tortellini and what I thought was leftover pasta sauce with sliced mushrooms but turned out, once I’d stirred it a few times, to be tomato sauce with greyish noodles shaped like chubby fish, but what the hell. Add some basil and it’s just like Ragu, right?
Then attempted to get some decorations up around the place (which I am only house-sitting, so it’s not exactly my style) to make it look homey. Think I’m doing pretty well, don’t you?
raincoaster 