Vader Blog: Capturing the Princess

So, I boarded the Princess Leia's ship today. Is it just me or is she really hot?

Mmmm. Work it girls.

She reminds me of a woman I knew a long time ago, a woman who died, leaving me with nothing but this metal gear where my heart should be. God I'm depressed.

Okay, so, about the boarding. It all went very well, I looked all dark and creepy in my black cape and we captured the Princess pn the first try. Go us! But the plans were not there! What is it with that? How do they always manage to hide the plans! And then my genius of a helmsman let a pod escape. ESCAPE! Said he didn't shoot because there were no life forms aboard. What, did we have some sort of laser beam shortage!! GAA! If you want something done right, you must do it yourself. *Broods* However, I did get to kill him, and that does always make me feel better.

I'm sitting here in my Dome of Solitude (NOT my Emo Dome. Damn you Emperor! Now all the guys have started calling it that behind my back, I know it! And they're laughing, I can tell they're laughing. Hate world, must revenge self...) and I noticed that there is this little red button next to my soda machine. I really want to push it, but I'm afraid of what it might do...

Button of Mystery....

 

So, I have a little problem with my suit. Why are the eye holes black? Have you ever tried to see through SOLID BLACK PLASTIC? It's really hard!!!!!! And you have NO peripheral vision AT ALL! People have started standing directly beside me when they talk to me and it DRIVES ME CRAZY! And the next person to snicker when I can't see the volleyball coming is going to get their windpipe crushed!

I just pushed the button. It made hot chocolate appear! I love my dome. But I hate life. And sprinkles. And the letter O.

I make suspenders look goooooood

Semi-Sequitur’s With Three Year Olds

While being buckled into her car seat

Thing 1: I think your Mummy and Daddy must be mad.

Me: What? Why?

Thing 1: Because you run outside and don’t sleep and then they will have to chase you!

While playing in the playroom, in reference to stealing her sisters toys

Thing 2: But I CAN’T say please because I am a pretty girl!

At lunch time. Out of nowhere

Thing 1: I think your Mummy and Daddy will laugh.

Me: Oh yeah? Why?

Thing 1: Cause I bumped my head really hard and now you get the sparkly dust!

On the playground. After falling down

Thing 2: But I CAN’T play because my nose hurts so I can only kick you!

Then proceeds to kick me.

After finding a pretty spectacular mud puddle

Thing 2: Look how muddy I am!! *super proud look of sublime accomplishment *

FIVE SECONDS LATER

Thing 2: Sasha................................................................. I’M MUDDY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *Look of ultimate hurt and betrayal. Instant flood of tears* My pants are MUUUUUUDDDYYYYYYY!!! I WANT TO GO HOME!!!!!

The Worlds Fattest Ninja Chicken Rides the Bus

Link Plays Zelda: AKA, the one where I got distracted and didn't really write anything

So, I was going to begin the Adventures of the Ninja Chicken tonight, but instead I watched my brother play Skyward Sword for about an hour and a half.... So I'm writing about that instead!

Now, my brother is a... special child. And he is addicted to the Legend of Zelda games. Our step mom made him a pretty nifty Link costume too!

Anyway, I bought him Skyward Sword (which is the newest Zelda game, for those who aren't giant nerds like me) for his highschool graduation. Well, I say bought, but really I pre-ordered it. I gave him the receipt in a nice card and told him we'd pick up his game when it came out, which at the time was about six months away.

Now, as often happens, Skyward Sword got delayed. So here we are, coming on two years later, and the game finally, finally comes out.

My brother, being ... well... him, went to pick up the game in costume. He and some of his friends had a whole routine planned out. He was going to go in, get his copy of the game, and try to pay for it in rupees (zelda money, looks like this)

He made his out of those plastic jewels my five year old loves

So he goes in and starts his routine, but alas, the cashier doesn`t want to play along.

Brother: Hiyah Huh! *holds out game*

Cashier: Did you pre-order?

Brother: CHEEYA! *nods*

Cashier: Phone number?

Brother: Hiyah HUH!

Cashier: Phone number?

Brother: CHEEYA!

Cashier: I need your phone number.

Me: It's *gives numbers*

Cashier: We don't have you listed.

Brother: HUUUUUUUHHH!?

So, after going through every phone number I could think of and every variation on my very distinctive last name we realize that I had pre-ordered the game at a different store. (Don't judge me, it was nearly two years ago...)

So we piled in his friends car and headed off to the other mall! And this time we were determined to be more prepared. I made him a sheet of paper with all the pertinent information, game, phone number, name, etc. So we get there, and we try again.

Brother: Huh hut! *Hands paper*

Cashier: Okay, can I have ID?

Me: *Sigh* here

Cashier: Okay *Turns back*

Brother: HEYAH! *puts rupees on counter*

Cashier: That'll be $40.

Me: Here *gives debit card*

So, he got his game, but we're going to have a workshop on comedic timing. Next time, give the woman the fake money when she is watching.

Anyhoo, the game seems pretty fun. I'll be playing myself as soon as I get a moment. And really, it was worth waiting two years to get to see this



This must be what the Inner Child looks like. Oh, such glee...

Sunday Musings: Pancakes, Backwards Feet, and Genetics

My room smells like pancakes.

Now, this is odd for several reasons, the main one being that I haven’t eaten pancakes in... Three years? Four? Certainly not since I lived in this room, or even in this country. So the odds of there being pancakes hidden under the depths of my bed are slim. There are certainly other things down there, unspeakable, possibly sentient things. But pancakes? Probably not.  I’ve heard of phantom odours, but is syrup usually one of them?

I keep expecting a giant pancake monster to come crashing out of my closet. He’ll probably wait till I’m sleeping, then smother me in sticky goodness. I suppose there are worse ways to go.

                          Picture this guy, except made out of pancakes, and probably wearing a fez

On an unrelated topic, I had a very existential experience this afternoon. Even more existential than phantom hot cakes. I had just been outside in my socks, mostly because I was too lazy to put on shoes just to go out to the car, which normally wouldn’t have been a problem but today was bloody FREEZING! Anyway, I had just come in, and I glanced down at my stockinged feet, and for about half a second I could have sworn they were on backwards. Like, my toes were pointing the wrong way.

                                               This would take some serious Mojo. Believe me.

I actually had to stop and stare at them to reconcile it in my mind. They weren’t backwards, obviously, but I was legitimately scared! Who knows what sort of power it would take to literally reverse my feet. I could easily have been dealing with some kind of super villain. Or neutrinos. I have no idea how those work, but if they could potentially break the speed of light then I bet they could easily have re-arranged my feet. Scary stuff.

Anyway, my boss is having another baby in January, so we’ve been talking a lot about genetics, and whether it would be a good thing or a bad thing to be able to alter your childs appearance in utero.

Now, I have no idea how far away we are from this, but I know I’ve heard someone, somewhere, talking about doing this, at least in theory. Like, going in and choosing if your child will have blue eyes or green, be tall or short, have blonde hair or a mullet. That sort of thing .

 I don’t really know how I feel about it.

On one hand, it could lead to the barbification of the human race. Before you know it everyone has double D boobs and Kiera Knightly duck face. Which would be terrifying.

On the other hand, it could save the world from families that look like this:

Vader Blog: If Darth Vader Had a Blog, This is What it Would Be Like.

Yes, I did it. I finally got a Blog. I wanted to stay away from this whole online diary thing, it seemed a bit... fruity to me. But all the other Sith Lords have one and they kept saying "why aren't you on blogger?" "You didn't get the memo? I sent it out on blogger." "Did you see that really funny video I posted on Blogger of the Jedi getting his head blown off.?" And so on. So here I am. On Blogger.

God I hate my life.

On the plus side I got my helmet waxed today and it is very very shiny. I can see the stars in it! However, Grand Moff Tarkin keeps using it as a mirror. It is very distracting! How am I supposed to be all menacing and evil in a meeting if my boss keeps checking his teeth in my head! *sigh*

I also really really needed to scratch my bottom, and believe me, that is a very involved process. Have you ever tried to scratch your bottom through a PLASTIC SUIT??

 I didn't think so.

And don't even get me started on how hot in is in here! It's supposed to have environment control but either it's been broken for the last fifteen years or I've become cold blodded. I should not be shvitzing in my suit during important menacing moments! It's very hard to concentrate on the evil when you're sweating like a Gammorean. Grr.

Anyway, I was sitting in my dome of solitude today (The Emperor insists on calling it my Emo Dome. Remind me to put glue on his chair before the next board meeting) and I realized just how much I hate life. It's all meaningless. And black. Like my soul. And my helmet. Which is shiny.

                                            Me, in my Dome of Solitude. NOT my Emo Dome.

 

Conversations with Three Year Olds 2

Adventures in Nap Time:


Thing 2: *sneaks on elephant feet out of playroom and across hall, giggling quietly*

Me: Thing 2, it’s quiet time. You need to go back to the playroom.

Thing 2: I need to get Thing 1...

Me: No, Thing 1 is asleep. I need you to go back to...

Thing 2: But I need to paint her hair!

Me: No, Thing 1 is sleeping. Go back to the playroom please.

Thing 2: But I’m going to tip toe!

Me: No thank you. Go back to the playroom. One...

Thing 2: Stop that!

Me: Two...

Thing 2: I’M GOING TO TIP TOE!!!!!!

Me: Three. Go back please.

Thing 2: FINE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

*runrunrun SLAM!*

Two Seconds Later

Thing 2: *sneak sneak sneak*

Me: Thing 2?

Thing 2: *runrunrun SLAM!*

Thing 1: *coming out of room* I’m up!

Me: Siiiiiiiigh.