Brought to You By the Letters E and K

So I was over at 2LD a long ass time ago, but sometimes I’m lazy and most times Josh is very busy the other day. She had a meme going on with letters, and I thought “Well. I’m just going to have to get in on that.” It involves having a letter picked out for you, and then fulfilling the task of listing about 10 items you love that start with that letter. Foregoing the general instruction of asking her for a randomly assigned letter, I pretty much planted my flag in the letter E and asked her to instead assign one to Josh. It’s mad fun times when Josh and I co-write, but he’s usually so busy with work, legal matters, and other things necessary to get our asses together. So when I’m craving some blog-world man-attention, I find memes are a good fun way to have some kicks without actually having to, you  know, think of our own ideas 😛

She assigned him a K, which I feel is nicely paired with the E so clearly designed for yours truly. Let’s see what the results are!

Emerald says: Firstly, how much do I love that both of our letters could also be in reference to drug usage?

Josh says:
Hey now, don’t give away any hints as to what I’m putting on my list dammit!

Ha, okay, I’ll be quiet. Although I wouldn’t think anything like that would be surprising coming from you.

So uh, you want to start off this list of awesome crap starting with E and K or should I?

You can go first.

K is for Ketamine, which get’s cats high, and sometimes people in the suburbs too.


Haha, suburbs. Your suburbs are nothing like ours. Our suburbs suck. You have to drive around looking for kids hanging out near parks instead of just going up the street like sensible adults. In that theme, I will say Ecstasy. The drug itself can be either awesome or rat poison, depending on the mood of whoever cooked it up in their bathtub. Or I could get all emo and romantic, but who would I be kidding?



K is for Knights, because they wear armor and chop people apart for a living. Not to mention the fact that they kill dragons, which are universally accepted as the most badass monsters ever to walk the face of the planet, and as a reward they bang damsels all over the countryside. Knights rule.

 

There are also many modern day knights who are pretty cool. Anthony Hopkins is a knight. E is for Emerald, cause firstly I rule, knighted or not. And they make pretty good jewels too, I guess.

He’s not shit compared to Lemmy from Motorhead, he should really be a knight. Or Jason Statham. So uh, what else starts with a K?  This is going to be hard, I suppose we should have put some thought into our lists instead of winging it like we always do.

 K is for Killers, who kill people to death. Because without killers there would be no horror movies, and without horror movies where would I get my gratuitous gore and nudity?



That is a very good and also philosophical point. How would we recognize or enjoy what is good, or even know what it really is if there were no bad with which to contrast it? We need crazies and psychopaths. Just, you know, on someone else’s block.

E = mc2, because I don’t have a ‘squared’ button, and also knowledge is cool. I’m also more of a fan of the scientific mathematical explanation of things. At least in terms of the universe and energy, and all that jazz.



What? That wasn’t my point at all, I was giving a big old salute to all those badass killers out there, mainly so I wouldn’t plagiarise Maddox from his alphabet of manliness when he said K was for kicking ass. (damn you maddox!)

Oh. Reference fail.

It wasn’t a reference, but I wasn’t what was good by pointing out the bad or whatever you said, i was actually hailing the bad.

*Josh and Em both take a moment to agree that Josh totally failed on that last sentence, and then continue onwards*

You should read my A – Z encyclopedia of serial killers.

Alrighty, K is for Krusty, cause I know how much you would felate the Simpsons if they were real.



Dude, you have no idea how much I was already thinking that. In fact, I’m going to go ahead and say E is for “Exxxxcellent” in all it’s many forms.

Right on, Well K is for Karate and Kung-Fu, the holy mediums which introduced the western world to martial arts through cheesy ass movies like the Flying Guillotine.

I love that we’re going to watch Kung-Fu movies in bed.

And act out Kung Fu movies in bed, did I mention that?

You did. My general priciple is “don’t leave any marks I can’t cover up or explain easily the next day.”

None of our moans wil synch up with out mouths.

Haha, that too! E is for encyclopedia, because I’m a nerd who will read through an encyclopedia or dictionary for kicks. Also because my encyclopedia, as mentioned, is exclusively about crime and serial killers.



That helps I’m sure. K is for Kalashnikov’s automatic rifle model of year 1947, AKA the AK-47. Thanks to Hollywood this is globally known as the single coolest rifle ever made, and thanks to human violence, the single most popular rifle on the planet (I think). It resists wear and tear, fires in almost any conditions, and is simple enough for a seven year old child to be taught how to dismantle, clean, reassemble, and fire it.

Well shit, I was going to say elephants, but that just won’t cut it after that. Let me get my damn dictionary. Encyclopedia, whatever…

Shit, there are only two entries for “E” in this thing, and I can’t say I’m a huge fan of ‘execution’. I’m going to have to go with ‘Entertainment”. I would go crazy if I didn’t have something constantly distracting me from the chatter in my head. Thanks, television!

Alright, K is for the KKK, the most hilarious hate group between the Third Reich and Al Quaeda.

I would call them the most poorly dressed, but whatever. Seriously, did someone actually look in the mirror and think “Sheets, yeah, that’ll be our thing!” That’s like trying to start a hardcore violent gang and thinking “Fuschia, yes!!!”

E is for eating, I’m a pretty big fan of that.



White is such a bad color choice for night stealth, and not to mention how dirty you must get the robes during lynchings. And who voted on the dunce hat? WTF?

I know!!! The hat, why??? Ugh. Anyways, your turn.

Ok, K is for Krokus who coverd one of the koolest sogs of all time, Ballroom Blitz.

Oh no way, I love Ballroom Blitz! The first time I heard it was in Wayne’s World, when Crucial Taunt sang it.

*five minute interlude for music appreciation time*

Hell yeah! \m/> <\m/

That was pretty good, though my favourite will always be Tia Carrere.

Of course, how could she not be. I’m stretching for K’s here shug.

Yeah, I’m still stuck on elephants. How far along are we? Count for me honey, I’ve had several glasses of wine.

I have done eight, you have done seven.

I’m going to go with Electricity. I’d be pretty fucked without it. Of course, once you get here we could live in a shack in the woods with a well for all I care. But for right now, I’m pretty fucked when I knock my power out. Unless whoever that person is nearby who is stupid enough to have an unsecured network open happens to be online.

Eight now.

Ok, so two more. Ooh, eccentricity! I has it!

I want everything in this picture. Consider it a 10 year goal.

I want everything in this picture. Consider it a 10 year goal.

Ok, let me go with Katherine Heigl, because I totally had a TV crush on her back when she was the stuck up bitch on Roswell, waaaaaay before Knocked up or Scrubs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I don’t think she was on Scrubs…

 

 

 

 

 

 

*It is eventually determined that these are from another, less hilarious medically-themed show. Probably ER.*

Ha, I told you she wasn’t on scrubs. Are you thinking of the other blonde chick on scrubs? Elliot?

Negative, I was thinking of Heather Graham.

Cause Eliot’s cute but not super hot. But whatever, and either way that’s an E. But I don’t like her enough to use that as my last E choice. And I’m going to have to say a full negative to Heather Graham. She’s terrible in everything she’s ever done, ever, and at least Katherine Heigl has some boobage.

So a threesome with Heather Graham is out then?

Unless a threesome involves me punching her in the face. Why can’t we have Katherine Heigl?

Sold! To the lady with the big knockers!

Sweet, that’s totally me.

Thinking of ten K words that are cool is really hard. I’m going over all the things in my head now. Kalvin and Hobbes, Katterpillar heavy machinery, spaniKopida, everything I can think of starts with a damn C. Wait, no genius struck me at the last second. K stands for Klingons eating Klondike bars, because I fucking dare you to think of something cooler that starts with a K, especially after drinking rum.

 klingon klondike

That is a pretty cool visual. And as I’m headed for the last of a bottle of wine, I’m going to go ahead and cop out with “Existence.” It’s pretty bad-ass right now.



True dat, much better than that whole non-existence phase you went through. I found it to be much adieu about nothing, hmmm, jes?

Well I could also say “Existentialism” but let’s face it, they’re annoying. And right now, the extent of my existence is sitting on a couch in my underwear finishing off a bottle of wine while my hot boyfriend who’s willing to switch countries to be with me stares at my boobs. I’m thinking that’s a-ok my friend.

Me too, we’re going to have a lot of fun existing.

Alright, well what say we sign off this here blog and get to some long-distance practicing?

*wiggles eyebrows seducitvely*

Ok that sounds good to me, This blog was brought to you by the letters E and K. Have a good evening ladies and gentlemen.

Peace out!

 

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Knitting Fail

So the good news is that I’ve mastered a fairly basic sock, or at least the general principles of not losing your mind when wrestling with said fairly basic sock. Other than having to cut Josh’s conversation mid-sentence with “haang on, HANG ONNNN!!!!………..okay sorry,” I’ve pretty much got the technique down! To make quick work of it, I thought it would be cute to knit a pair of baby socks for May’s latest bundle of roly poly joy.

Observe.

Baby Sock Win

I got the pattern here.

An excellent turnout! But this baby is indeed roly poly, and growing by the second. I wanted to knit the second sock in a hurry, before they wouldn’t fit! Look at that healthy chub! And so I figured it would be a good idea to forgo the standard knit-2-purl-2 cuff (that’s “stretchy ribbing like you see at the top of most socks” for you non-knitters) and just do a plain knit one. Ribbing is what keeps the sock up on your leg instead of puddling around your ankle, but given that there is minimal need to keep them up on legs that do little more than wriggle toe-up in the air, I figured it would be no issue.

And it wasn’t. I got the second sock done relatively quickly, and although the cuff wasn’t as neat or pretty looking, it took care of the risk of ankle-muffin-top and all related circulatory unpleasantries.

So where did I fail?

Remembering what size needles I used for the first pair.

Baby Socks Fail

Fuuuuuuuuck.

And yes, that’s the smaller one that I knit second. Way to keep up with the growing – knit smaller! You know what kiddo? I think I’ll knit you a hat or something. You’ll look dashing.

Stupid needles.

Sweet, Sweet Change of Plans

Okay everyone, remember how I told you to bitchslap your computers? We’re changing course – start knocking on every variety of wood you can find (short of injuring male loved ones for the sake of double entendre). Feel free to use pressed fiberboard, paneling, and exes.

The internet…waaaaaaaaiiiit forrrrrrr iiiiiiit…is back!

Jack

I have a new modem. It’s spiffy and shiney and new. And somehow, through a miraculous alignment of the cosmos (angry fist shake) I managed to get it up and running. It’s supposed to take ten minutes. It took me two hours, and I didn’t even have any problems. It was just very…involved. Vista shines here, with the constant approving of every goddamned step, and having to restart every time some new aspect gets installed (such as the piles of anti-virus – oh internet, why are you so dangerous?). Download this executable file, launch said executable file, install feature, loading, loading, loading. It was just a meticulous, pissy little process that had me sitting on the edge of my seat all night.

But finally, finally, I have the internet.

Wireless internet!!!!

Me! Technologically stunted and maimed, I somehow figured out how to appease the digital deities and actually got my wireless working. I’m not covered in cables! I can sweep my floor without meticulously unplugging, draping, carefully arranging (or just ignoring it and nibbling my lip over the bad-housekeeper guilt). I don’t trip over things at 2am when that last bottle of juice announces itself as a poorly timed idea!

It.

Is.

Fan.

Tastic.

Now let’s not get carried away. This month, overall, is still sucking the big one. Work is a pain in the ass, and every douchebag and their ugly sister seem out to get me. They’re filming underbudgeted movies on my block and cluttering up the traffic. Starbucks has discontinued the only vegetarian breakfast sandwhich. Josh is hard at work both on the job and getting some renovations done around his brothers house for my visit, so between that and the rest of life we’re often pressed for time. I’ve promised May that I won’t use Limewire, and so I’m dying without my instant fixes and guilty pleasures. I still don’t have tiles on half the floor, and my futon is becoming lumpier by the day. Also, neither tax nor bonus season were as kind to me as I’ve grown accustomed. Boourns.

But this, I will celebrate. This one teeny, tiny technological victory, as brief as I realize it could be, I will take it and run with it.

thumbs_up

Thumbs up internet, I’m back in your grill. Now let’s finish suckerpunching the rest of this shitty month and get on with my damn vacation, alright?

Alright.

Continuing Technological Interruptions, or: Why I Need A Flamethrower

I tell you, it’s a damn good thing I’ve got internet at the office, and at least three fairly decent chunks of time during the average work day in which to surf (somewhat) freely. If it weren’t for relieving my receptionist for her breaks, you might never see me ’round these parts.

Yes, it’s true. My internet at home has once again decided to laugh with maniacal glee at my frantic efforts to stay connected to the world more than twenty feet away. I woke up Saturday morning and my computer was dead. Just….dead. No blue screen of death, just dead. It looked more like a pillowcase – horizontal, somewhat ragged looking stripes. I tried to restart it – fail. I tried to do all those little safe-startup options that you’re offered when you haven’t shut your laptop properly – fail. Fail, fail, fail.

I didn't...but almost

Then I thought, well, fuck it. Any files I *really* care about are floating on the internet anyways. I know better than to trust this machine with anything long term. I’ll go grab the magic disc and just wipe this thing back to its basic operating system. Oh no, I’ll have to re-install msn, firefox, and iTunes and lose all my hilarious bookmarks. Big deal. As long as I can get the internet back, I’m happy. What can I say? I’m a product of my generation, and no internet means no Josh – even our phones are web based.

Off I went then, to grab the original packaging for the computer, placed neatly on a shelf in the spare room.

The backup disc? No more than a set of instructions on how to create your own backup disc. A futile, futile piece of paper.

Well fuck. Good thing I’ve got a nerdy friend on speed-text. I gave May the shake-down on the latest fuckuppery, to which she said “Bring it on over!” So over I went, as is the habit on Saturday afternoons anyways. I plunked the laptop down, and proceeded to ignore it for most of the night. Eventually the sake bombs were busted out and I started feeling much better. Some time after that, I remembered the useless hunk of computery plastic wedged into my purse – complete with non-laptop-sized keyboard! Remember that story? About dumping a whole glass of water on it and frying all but three letters to kingdom come? Yeah! That was fun! Anyways, long story short another geeky friend who happened to be in attendance got it back to factory setting fairly quickly. Thanks nerdy friends! Problem solved!

Not so much. Sunday morning I woke up to find that although my computer worked fine, in all it’s zero-actual-programs glory, the internet was down.

What. The. Fuck. Are you serious???

I understand this on a whole 'nother level now...

Apparently, yes. I called Bell, bitched my schpiel, and two hours later we were able to determine that my modem was malfunctioning, not picking up my IP address properly. Or some other bullshit. They could have told me it was dying of syphilis and it wouldn’t have mattered. They would still have to send me a new one, days away. In the meantime they MacGyvered a basic connection, the mechanics of which I don’t even understand. But no video phone, and too weak to download msn. Great. That’s about as helpful as an internet connection in a government office where you’re allowed to search all of three excitingly informative pages and play solitaire when the boss is in the can.

I texted May. Forget tech support, clearly I’m e-doomed. Can I borrow a flamethrower, chainsaw, sledgehammer or some other kind of destructive implement? She texted back that Talea was on her way over for gardening, and didn’t that sound like much more fun??? Yes. Yes, it very very very did.  So over I went to take my wrath out on weeds, semi-useful computer in tow for another joyous adventure with oversized luggage on the bus. May’s prognosis was: “You know, I used to think it was user error. Because even the smartest person can make a mistake on their computer. It happens. But now I think the internet hates you. Clearly, it must. Because this is just ridiculous, you poor thing!”

It does! It must! Call me crazy, but I’m almost certain that every single device in my apartment is fully awake, aware of my name, my neuroses, and the worst days to mess with me. I’m going to start wearing a tinfoil hat!

Maybe not...

Ahem. So yes, with much help from technologically non-impaired, non-cursed friends, I was able to once again plug myself back into the all important internet. And the internet, by the way, owes me a day of my life back.

The new modem should be arriving soon, beginning what I’m sure is yet another long battle against the machine. Could you all do me a favour and slap your computers around a little tonight? I’m hoping it’ll send a message to the internet about what happens when you push my buttons a little too long. And if it doesn’t go well and I end up making the news in some horrible fashion, well…at least now you can say you know my side of the tale.

Stay tuned.