Diamonds are a girl’s best friend, but broccoli is a robber’s best friend.

Emeralds for elephants yes you read that right

Emeralds for elephants yes you read that right

Just a couple of jewel robbery anecdotes, the first from the Tatler magazine, which used to be the most breathtakingly glamorous and vaguely scandalous thing out there. Ah, that was a long time ago. Now it’s Town and Country, with worse teeth. Both posts inspired by this dazzling jewel robbery on the Riviera, where by tradition all dazzling jewel robberies take place.

You know, on the one hand crime=bad. On the other, COOOOOOOOL!

I don’t know why, but why not? Non-violent jewel robberies are beautiful, beautiful things. There are some great stories out of London; in one case, a big emerald stone went missing while a shifty, Arab-looking man had been looking at a tray of loose stones. They stopped him, locked the doors, called the police, and had him searched thoroughly. The entire time he loudly protested his innocence and outrage and threatened to sue them. They couldn’t find a thing, inside him or out, so they had to let him go. A week later the cleaning woman found a wad of gum under the counter where he’d been looking at the gems, with the outline of that emerald pressed into it. He had a conspirator come by later and retrieve the stone from its ingenious hiding place.

and the second story, more a piece of advice really. But thanks, Officer Friendly!

I was working at Starbucks, and one day the bank a few doors down was held up. The bank staff holed up at our store, drinking cocoa and shaking, and the cops holed up at another table to discuss the case. One went up and placed their order, and I was working bar, which gives you a chance to chat to people. The cop came up to me to pick up the drinks and he said, “Promise me something.” I said okay, because I have a thing for men in uniform, and he said, “Promise me you won’t rob a bank.”

I said OK, because that had not been in my plans anyway.

He said, “Promise me you’ll rob a grocery store instead.” All of a sudden this conversation had become MUCH more interesting. I asked him why a grocery store.

“Because if you rob a bank you’ll get, at most $1800 and a minimum of five years. If you rob one of the big grocery store chains on a Friday night, you’ll get $20,000 minimum, and a maximum of 18 months.”

Well, thank you Officer Friendly. Noted.

Make your career plans accordingly.

From the Department of “We’re All Fucked”

Flying Orca Flying Dolphin THEY ARE COMING!!!

Flying Orca Flying Dolphin THEY ARE COMING!!!

I WARNED YOU ALL!!!! I warned you, and you laughed, didn’t you, or at least you lol’d and posted it to Twitter. I know you, you and your lol-ing, Twitter-posting ways.

But you didn’t take it seriously, and now look what’s happened while you were off posting cat pictures to Facebook: they’ve begun to spread. The first Flying Orca, as previously reported, was spotted in BC, as was the first known Flying Humpback Whale. The Cascadia region is a well-known refuge for cryptids, from the noble Sasquatch to the mighty Ogopogo, and not forgetting the endangered Pacific Tree Octopus. Now according to the Daily Mail, the terrifying Flying Orca been spotted off the coast of Mexico. Obviously they have a means of long-distance communication that not even the NSA can detect!

Meanwhile, under the sea, all has become a deranged orgy of climate change-inspired breeding and cannibalism! It’s like a Russ Myers/Roger Corman film starring the Deep Ones!

But it gets worse.

Just as normally-submarine predators have taken to the skies, so too have voracious land-based killing machines begun to encroach on environments in which they were previously unknown.

That’s right: you are not safe on the land, in the air, or on the sea. Sleep well. As for me, I’m off to buy a shovel and start digging.

Make way for Megalodon!

Make way for Megalodon! Now boarding in rows OH SHIT to WE’RE FUCKED.

Return from Ruralopolis!

Ruralopolis sure is pretty

Ruralopolis sure is pretty

Well, as I mentioned in the previous post, I have returned from Ruralopolis. I have returned, my friends, only to find Kate had her baby when I wasn’t around to cover it, Jennifer Aniston is probably married, Dennis Farina is dead, and the Daily Dot got hacked by the Syrian Electronic Army. Fuck, that’s the last time I go on vacation! Everything falls to pieces without me.

But for those of you who’ve been following my Flickr stream, you’ll know I haven’t been idle. I’ve been dashing about from Hither, a sprawling metropolis featuring actual hitching posts, to Yawn, the megalopolis which boasts not one! but two! mini golf courses, and taking pictures all along the way and particularly of the food. So I didn’t leave Vancouver behind me completely. I wasn’t expecting much in the way of entertainment, and was not disappointed. One night we could listen to the coyotes while sitting in the hot tub sipping wine, and that was quite enough excitement for me after the year I’ve had.

Imagine, then, my astonishment to come across an amazing musical duo, deep in the heart of the northernmost reaches of the Great Sonora Desert! These guys apparently play sold-out stadium shows all over, in the big urban centres, from the Spallumcheen to Olalla, not neglecting the Rez-taurant in Ruralopolis. Enjoy their soothing sounds and sophisticated syncopations as they lay down some slick lounge grooves.

Back to the Salt Mines

Salt Mines

Ah, it’s a slog

Well, the vacation is officially over. My main accomplishments are: a truly epic sunburn, regaining five of the pounds I’d lost, and learning how to use the Flickr app on my phone. That’s extraordinarily productive for a vacation. Heck, I even wrote two dozen blog posts! Now for my next dazzling accomplishment, I shall try to get paid for same. Stay tuned for breaking updates from my bank account!

The Vacation So Far

For those of you who haven’t been following along on the Food Blog, here’s what the vacation looks like so far. I’m due at a crab fest on the Island on Saturday, but unless SOMEBODY pays me before then, I’ll be trapped here. Oh, poor me.

As you can see, it’s a nonstop grind. Oh, the pressure!