I had another post prepared for today. But I am only human. Today I'm going to be petty.
Yesterday, my gay friend pointed out that there was a typo in my post. Frustrated that I couldn't find it, I had my not-so-loyal subjects take a look.
"You need to put a hyphen between 'pathetically' and 'boring'."
"Your sentence structuring is messed up."
"You have poor mastery of punctuations."
"W..wait, what? P-p-p-punctuations? Show me!"
And they did.
"We just snuck into the pantry, quickly filled our mugs, and snuck out; hoping nobody was watching us."
zOMG, like, I'm totally writing a formal academic paper instead of a senseless blog post about my imperial past! Like, I'm totally shattered now! Like, I'll totally never gonna be able to write anymore because I lack godlike mastery of punctuations!
And you know what the typo was? It was "coffe"! I forgot to put an extra "e"! And I had to go through this confidence shattering criticism all because my gay friend refused to tell me where the typo was! Because he is gay!
So anyway, thanks to my not-so-loyal subjects for their great efforts trying to locate a grammatical error after I asked them to look for a TYPO! I'm so proud of you! You found a FLAW! You must be so happy!
Excuse me while I attempt to imperially kill myself. (Don't worry, I'm not going to die since I am divine.)
Regular programming will resume tomorrow.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Tales From The Office Pantry
Greetings my loyal subjects!
As an apology for last night's short and pathetically boring post, I have decided to regale you, my loyal subjects, with some stories from my past.
The Tale of the Coffee Drinkers Club
Because my old company was pathetic enough that they could not provide their employees with free coffee, people had to set up their own coffee club. For a small membership fee they can enjoy an unlimited supply of freshly brewed coffee. Non-members can also enjoy this priveledge, by paying for the coffee with a reduced price (just drop the money in the tip jar next to the brewer).
My friends and I were underpaid enough that we couldn't afford to buy a cup at Starbucks. We therefore took full advantage of this coffee club. Of course, since we were underpaid, we didn't sign up for membership. We didn't pay for the coffee either. We just snuck into the pantry, quickly filled our mugs, and snuck out, hoping nobody was watching us.
And thus was born the Drinkers of the Coffee of the Coffee Club Club.
The Tale of the C2 Vendor
I had an officemate who sold iced tea, soda, and snacks as a side business. Nevermind the fact that she used the office fridge to cool her merchandise. Anyway, I was the little communist back then, so I hated the fact that she makes more than me even if it was the result of her own hard work and ingenuity. Out of bitterness I refused to buy from her. I'd walk all the way to 7-11 for my daily C2 iced tea fix, even if her cubicle was right next to mine.
Defeated by the long 10 minute walks and 7-11's inflated prices, I finally succumbed to the temptation. Of course, I couldn't stand to see my money directly handed over to her so I asked my gay friend to buy a bottle and sneak it to me in the pantry.
The Tale of the C2 Drinkers Club
Still bitter about the whole C2 incident, I gathered my friends in the pantry and started a new club. We called it the Drinkers of the C2 of the C2 Vendor Club. The purpose of this club should be pretty obvious by now. Since we were rebellious bastards, we even posted the application details on the bulletin board (just send an email to yours truly).
The happy days ended when a project manager did actually send me an email...
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And these, my loyal subjects, are just some of the stories from my crazy past. I hope you enjoyed reading them as much as I enjoyed reminiscing about them.
Signed,
Her Imperial Majesty
As an apology for last night's short and pathetically boring post, I have decided to regale you, my loyal subjects, with some stories from my past.
The Tale of the Coffee Drinkers Club
Because my old company was pathetic enough that they could not provide their employees with free coffee, people had to set up their own coffee club. For a small membership fee they can enjoy an unlimited supply of freshly brewed coffee. Non-members can also enjoy this priveledge, by paying for the coffee with a reduced price (just drop the money in the tip jar next to the brewer).
My friends and I were underpaid enough that we couldn't afford to buy a cup at Starbucks. We therefore took full advantage of this coffee club. Of course, since we were underpaid, we didn't sign up for membership. We didn't pay for the coffee either. We just snuck into the pantry, quickly filled our mugs, and snuck out, hoping nobody was watching us.
And thus was born the Drinkers of the Coffee of the Coffee Club Club.
The Tale of the C2 Vendor
I had an officemate who sold iced tea, soda, and snacks as a side business. Nevermind the fact that she used the office fridge to cool her merchandise. Anyway, I was the little communist back then, so I hated the fact that she makes more than me even if it was the result of her own hard work and ingenuity. Out of bitterness I refused to buy from her. I'd walk all the way to 7-11 for my daily C2 iced tea fix, even if her cubicle was right next to mine.
Defeated by the long 10 minute walks and 7-11's inflated prices, I finally succumbed to the temptation. Of course, I couldn't stand to see my money directly handed over to her so I asked my gay friend to buy a bottle and sneak it to me in the pantry.
The Tale of the C2 Drinkers Club
Still bitter about the whole C2 incident, I gathered my friends in the pantry and started a new club. We called it the Drinkers of the C2 of the C2 Vendor Club. The purpose of this club should be pretty obvious by now. Since we were rebellious bastards, we even posted the application details on the bulletin board (just send an email to yours truly).
The happy days ended when a project manager did actually send me an email...
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And these, my loyal subjects, are just some of the stories from my crazy past. I hope you enjoyed reading them as much as I enjoyed reminiscing about them.
Signed,
Her Imperial Majesty
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
An Imperial Birthday Cake
Greetings my loyal subjects!
When I first returned from exile, some of my friends cajoled me into treating them to dinner. Of course, I know well enough that this group of friends are always on the lookout for a free meal. (After all, I'd do the same to them). Being the kind, loving, and generous friend that I am, I obliged.
So last night, my gay friend offered to meet me at the mall and drive me to the restaurant where we will meet our other friends. Because he is gay, he refused to pick me up from the imperial palace instead. (I am not referring to the Head Imperial Priestess, by the way. I have other gay friends you know.) Anyway, because of this, I have had to suffer the indignity of having to ride the commoners' jeepney.
Riding the jeepney was, of course, an unpleasant experience. Not only did I have to endure all that dirt and pollution, but the jeepney's route took me right past a stinky, smelly commoner's wet market. I silently cursed my gay friend for being too gay to drive all the way to the imperial palace.
So we arrived at the restaurant where we met up with our other friends, who of course pretended to have missed me. We briefly updated each other on what's going on in our lives until it was time to order food. My gay friend, because he is gay, ordered the most expensive food item on the menu.
Then there was the matter of my other friend, who kept swiping my french fries because her fajitas weren't ready yet. By the time they were served to her, she was too full to eat.
Yet even though two more of my friends ordered burgers and were only able to eat half of them, so they could have just ordered one and split it, it was a happy, delicious, albeit needlessly expensive meal. The conversation was great, we reminded each other of all the crazy things we have done in the past. Perhaps someday I will regale you, my loyal subjects, with these tales.
For now, I leave you with an image of the imperial birthday cake we had for dessert.
When I first returned from exile, some of my friends cajoled me into treating them to dinner. Of course, I know well enough that this group of friends are always on the lookout for a free meal. (After all, I'd do the same to them). Being the kind, loving, and generous friend that I am, I obliged.
So last night, my gay friend offered to meet me at the mall and drive me to the restaurant where we will meet our other friends. Because he is gay, he refused to pick me up from the imperial palace instead. (I am not referring to the Head Imperial Priestess, by the way. I have other gay friends you know.) Anyway, because of this, I have had to suffer the indignity of having to ride the commoners' jeepney.
Riding the jeepney was, of course, an unpleasant experience. Not only did I have to endure all that dirt and pollution, but the jeepney's route took me right past a stinky, smelly commoner's wet market. I silently cursed my gay friend for being too gay to drive all the way to the imperial palace.
So we arrived at the restaurant where we met up with our other friends, who of course pretended to have missed me. We briefly updated each other on what's going on in our lives until it was time to order food. My gay friend, because he is gay, ordered the most expensive food item on the menu.
Then there was the matter of my other friend, who kept swiping my french fries because her fajitas weren't ready yet. By the time they were served to her, she was too full to eat.
Yet even though two more of my friends ordered burgers and were only able to eat half of them, so they could have just ordered one and split it, it was a happy, delicious, albeit needlessly expensive meal. The conversation was great, we reminded each other of all the crazy things we have done in the past. Perhaps someday I will regale you, my loyal subjects, with these tales.
For now, I leave you with an image of the imperial birthday cake we had for dessert.
Chocolate Chip Cookie Molten Cake @ Chili's
(Excuse the quality, this picture was taken using a commoner's phone camera.)
Signed,
Her Imperial Majesty
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Words of Warlock
Greetings my loyal subjects!
When I was in exile, the Imperial Brother wanted me to play World of Warcraft with him, because he missed me and wanted to spend time with me even if it was just online (also, he gets a free one month subscription when I upgrade my trial account). Being the kind, loving, and generous sister that I am, I obliged.
I am now going to share to you, my loyal subjects, some of the experiences I had playing this game.
So I decided to try playing a warlock. I shouldn't have bothered coming up with a decent sounding name, because no matter what it is, people will just keep calling me "Lock".
Anyway, even though warlocks aren't as powerful as mages, they do have certain abilities that make them useful in a group.
Priest: "Lock, soulstone me (so they get resurrected in case they die)."
Rogue: "Lock, summon me (because they're too lazy to walk all the way to where the rest of the group was)."
Paladin: "Lock, unlock the cages (because everyone else is too lazy to do it)."
But like I said, warlocks are not as powerful as mages.
Paladin: "Who's our AOE?"
Priest: "Just the lock."
Paladin: "Screw that, let's find ourselves a mage."
Which is why warlocks spend most of their time soloing.
Now the reason why I wanted to be a warlock was because I loved the idea of summoning demons from the nether realms and making them my imperial slaves. The warlock's demon of choice for soloing is called a voidwalker.
My voidwalker is called John Void. Okay, its real name is actually Grak'garth, but that's hardly an appropriate name for the imperial voidwalker, is it?
I call it John Void because I think it resembles one of the motherland's local celebrities.
When I was in exile, the Imperial Brother wanted me to play World of Warcraft with him, because he missed me and wanted to spend time with me even if it was just online (also, he gets a free one month subscription when I upgrade my trial account). Being the kind, loving, and generous sister that I am, I obliged.
I am now going to share to you, my loyal subjects, some of the experiences I had playing this game.
So I decided to try playing a warlock. I shouldn't have bothered coming up with a decent sounding name, because no matter what it is, people will just keep calling me "Lock".
Anyway, even though warlocks aren't as powerful as mages, they do have certain abilities that make them useful in a group.
Priest: "Lock, soulstone me (so they get resurrected in case they die)."
Rogue: "Lock, summon me (because they're too lazy to walk all the way to where the rest of the group was)."
Paladin: "Lock, unlock the cages (because everyone else is too lazy to do it)."
But like I said, warlocks are not as powerful as mages.
Paladin: "Who's our AOE?"
Priest: "Just the lock."
Paladin: "Screw that, let's find ourselves a mage."
Which is why warlocks spend most of their time soloing.
Now the reason why I wanted to be a warlock was because I loved the idea of summoning demons from the nether realms and making them my imperial slaves. The warlock's demon of choice for soloing is called a voidwalker.
My voidwalker is called John Void. Okay, its real name is actually Grak'garth, but that's hardly an appropriate name for the imperial voidwalker, is it?
I call it John Void because I think it resembles one of the motherland's local celebrities.
Isn't John Void handsome?
Anyway, like I said, I spend most of my time soloing, and therefore, I spend most of my time with John Void.
One time, I recieved a quest where I had to kill a bunch of giant insects. I found the little buggers at the bottom of a pit.
I, of course, came up with a brilliant plan: I will jump into the pit, with John Void jumping right behind me, after which I shall unleash a rain of fiery death while John Void makes sure none of them touches my delicate imperial skin.
So I jumped. I landed. I started casting my fire spell. But the giant insects started swarming all over me. Where the hell was John Void? As I watched my hitpoints quickly drop to zero, I saw John Void carefully going down the stairs at the opposite end of the pit.
"DAMN YOU, JOHN VOID!!!" I screamed while angrily shaking my laptop.
It turns out that demons will not jump if they can find a more convenient way to go down.
However, my loyal subjects, despite John Void's aversion to free fall, it's still a great voidwalker and I kinda like him...
...I'm gonna go play some more.
KTHXBAI
Signed,
Her Imperial Majesty
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
o hai, third world.
Greetings, my loyal subjects!
To start off, I think an account of my first day back at the motherland would be appropriate.
After crashing the imperial plane at the foot of the imperial mountain last October 17, I thought I'd have my homecoming meal at a fastfood place that can rarely be found when in exile: Chowking. So the Imperial Consort took me to the nearest mall, where the first thing I noticed was the number of people. Seriously, I do not remember the malls to be this full of people. Has everyone in the motherland been breeding like rabbits during my five months in exile?
Anyway, the Imperial Consort and I started walking around the mall, looking for an ATM so we can withdraw cash (because, as the Imperial Consort had to remind me, not all fastfood chains in the third world accept credit cards). We tried the nearest ATM, it was offline. We went to the next one, still no luck. The third one, well, no worries there, we are in the third world after all... By the time we checked all the ATMs in the mall, I was tearing my hair out - every single one of them in the entire mall was either offline or out of service.
All that walking in the hot and humid airconditioned mall made me thirsty, so I wanted to go to Chowking anyway for an iced tea. Of course, I had already expected that the iced tea was going to be half the size of what I got used to (and no free refills). What I didn't expect was the taste. I nearly forgot that brown, sugary water was what passed for iced tea in the third world.
It was time to head for the Imperial Palace, where the Imperial Family awaits. The Imperial Dog was the first to greet me, as usual. Pleasantries were exchanged, presents that were bought while in exile were distributed. And then I wanted to retire to the imperial bedchamber.
I opened the door, and lo and behold, imperial dust descended upon me. Furiously, I summoned the Imperial Brother and demanded an explanation.
"I thought you said you had my bedchamber cleaned?"
"We did. We put all your stuff in there and had it cleaned when you left."
"Then how do you explain all this dust?"
"Well, no one's been in there for the past five months..."
I had no choice but to summon a chambermaid to have it properly cleaned. I also grabbed my towel because I had to attend my homecoming feast in the evening.
"By the way," the Imperial Brother added, "the water pump broke down yesterday, so no showers for you for now."
This caused me to go down on my knees, screaming "WHYYYYYYYYY???", and wishing I could take the next plane back to the first world.
So there I was, on my first day back in the third world, using a commoner's tabo and balde to wash the travel dust (and palace dust) from my imperial body (and because my heater is connected to my showerhead, I had to endure bathing in cold water... I want my bathwater warm and my drinking water cold, not the other way around).
(I had a wonderful night at the Imperial Homecoming Feast though. Thanks to the Head Imperial Chauffer for letting me have my Homecoming Feast on his birthday party ^_^)
Signed,
Her Imperial Majesty
(P.S. The Imperial Seal was created by the Imperial Ambassador)
(P.S.S. Today was my birthday. The Imperial Extended Family brought chicken and pansit, the Imperial Consort brought cake. It was nothing special, I spent the day with the eggbeater in hand and watching over the chambermaids as I made them clean the entire palace. I don't think they're too happy about the Empress returning from exile...)
To start off, I think an account of my first day back at the motherland would be appropriate.
After crashing the imperial plane at the foot of the imperial mountain last October 17, I thought I'd have my homecoming meal at a fastfood place that can rarely be found when in exile: Chowking. So the Imperial Consort took me to the nearest mall, where the first thing I noticed was the number of people. Seriously, I do not remember the malls to be this full of people. Has everyone in the motherland been breeding like rabbits during my five months in exile?
Anyway, the Imperial Consort and I started walking around the mall, looking for an ATM so we can withdraw cash (because, as the Imperial Consort had to remind me, not all fastfood chains in the third world accept credit cards). We tried the nearest ATM, it was offline. We went to the next one, still no luck. The third one, well, no worries there, we are in the third world after all... By the time we checked all the ATMs in the mall, I was tearing my hair out - every single one of them in the entire mall was either offline or out of service.
All that walking in the hot and humid airconditioned mall made me thirsty, so I wanted to go to Chowking anyway for an iced tea. Of course, I had already expected that the iced tea was going to be half the size of what I got used to (and no free refills). What I didn't expect was the taste. I nearly forgot that brown, sugary water was what passed for iced tea in the third world.
It was time to head for the Imperial Palace, where the Imperial Family awaits. The Imperial Dog was the first to greet me, as usual. Pleasantries were exchanged, presents that were bought while in exile were distributed. And then I wanted to retire to the imperial bedchamber.
I opened the door, and lo and behold, imperial dust descended upon me. Furiously, I summoned the Imperial Brother and demanded an explanation.
"I thought you said you had my bedchamber cleaned?"
"We did. We put all your stuff in there and had it cleaned when you left."
"Then how do you explain all this dust?"
"Well, no one's been in there for the past five months..."
I had no choice but to summon a chambermaid to have it properly cleaned. I also grabbed my towel because I had to attend my homecoming feast in the evening.
"By the way," the Imperial Brother added, "the water pump broke down yesterday, so no showers for you for now."
This caused me to go down on my knees, screaming "WHYYYYYYYYY???", and wishing I could take the next plane back to the first world.
So there I was, on my first day back in the third world, using a commoner's tabo and balde to wash the travel dust (and palace dust) from my imperial body (and because my heater is connected to my showerhead, I had to endure bathing in cold water... I want my bathwater warm and my drinking water cold, not the other way around).
(I had a wonderful night at the Imperial Homecoming Feast though. Thanks to the Head Imperial Chauffer for letting me have my Homecoming Feast on his birthday party ^_^)
Signed,
Her Imperial Majesty
(P.S. The Imperial Seal was created by the Imperial Ambassador)
(P.S.S. Today was my birthday. The Imperial Extended Family brought chicken and pansit, the Imperial Consort brought cake. It was nothing special, I spent the day with the eggbeater in hand and watching over the chambermaids as I made them clean the entire palace. I don't think they're too happy about the Empress returning from exile...)
Monday, October 19, 2009
Greetings My Loyal Subjects!
After five months of exile, I have once again graced the motherland with my imperial presence. From here on, I have decided to chronicle my imperial life for your reading pleasure. I will discuss just about anything that happens in my imperial life, from my hobbies to work to daily life in the imperial palace.
As you can see, the blog doesn't look like much right now, and due to my lack of artistic ability I can't really do anything about it. Maybe I'll get one of the Imperial Artists to spruce this space up a bit, or maybe I'll just look around the intarwebz for an appropriate, ready-made layout.
I shall start with a short post for now though, as I am still jetlagged and very sleepy.
KTHXBAI
Her Imperial Sleepyhead
As you can see, the blog doesn't look like much right now, and due to my lack of artistic ability I can't really do anything about it. Maybe I'll get one of the Imperial Artists to spruce this space up a bit, or maybe I'll just look around the intarwebz for an appropriate, ready-made layout.
I shall start with a short post for now though, as I am still jetlagged and very sleepy.
KTHXBAI
Her Imperial Sleepyhead
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