I am, thanks to the crisis-aversion actions taken by, respectively in order of the order they action-took, devblog, Sean Heather, and The Sister, getting my groove back, somewhat. Sean also stuffed me with exotic meats and cheeses (a godsend to those of us who live with raw vegan chef-types; my cholesterol count was getting dangerously low) while Kurtis plied me with succulent sherry so rich and voluptuous that Jay-Z tried to chat it up. Ah, I love working for the hospitality industry!
In any case, here’s a nice ten-minute Mylene Farmer megamix to both express the return of my groovitude and uh, fill the blog up and hold you until I write something better. And now I’m off to hit the grocery store like Katrina hit the Gulf Coast. Oh, there will be Brie on the ceiling by the time I’m done with it, you wait and see! I am the Sam Peckinpah of shoppers!
“There are only two kinds of bad guys. Live bad guys, and the ones who’ve met Chuck Norris.”
This has got to be the single best blender marketing video the universe has ever witnessed, and if you doubt it, click for yourselves.
We’ve really been struggling to find something that could challenge the Total Blender’s blending capabilities. What could we blend that’s stronger than anything we’ve ever blended?
Then it hit us like a roundhouse kick to the face…Chuck Norris!
Hat-tip to Stiletto, for the inspiration to post it.
So Judy was here visiting. It was easy to tell it was Judy when she walked into the train station, because there is, in my wide experience (and surely, few experiencers can have had a wider one, what with me having met in meatspace something over 100 people whom I first met online) a certain expression that people have when they’re away from home and meeting up for the first time with some other cybernaut who, come to think of it and they do and BOY do they look worried when they realize this, they haven’t the faintest idea what they look like. And likewise.
So, I was looking for a tall American brunette, and she was looking for a short Canadian blonde with a Moosehat sticker from the Northern Voice blogging conference, and although we are not exactly a dime a dozen, even in the train station, nevertheless the situation is enough to give one pause.
She paused.
With that certain look on her face. That alright now I can figure this out. I can handle this. If she turns out to be a freak there are plenty of people around who can call the cops, and I can always get another train back home look.
And I tried not to have my oh, I’ve seen that look before, newbie look on my face although it must be said that of all the emotions, smugness comes perhaps most easily to me, even when it’s not appropriate, but then when has the fear of looking like a idjut ever stopped me, eh? I ask yez.
And we had a lovely time. I made sure to take her by the library and Canada Place and the Marine building and other suchlike architectural wonders, of which it must be said that Vancouver has very few but as long as nobody tells her different and who’s to do that, she’ll never know the place isn’t larded with gems, eh?
And we went patio-ing. Yes, it’s a verb here. We do a lot of patioing in BC, although we also do a lot of other social things, too, which you can tell from the fact that Whistler has its own strain of genital warts, but we didn’t do any of that.
Especially not on the patio. Hell, it wasn’t the Cambie!
But as we were on the patio, enjoying our refreshing beverages and making amusing comments about some kind of corporate teambuilding exercise which apparently involved vast herds of nerdy-looking men in matching t-shirts running at speed back and forth through the restaurant, it became apparent that Judy was working up her courage. Finally, after an internal struggle and a moment of distracted yet anticipatory silence, it came out.
raincoaster 