to desire the replica

posted by: Kim
posted on: February 6th, 2012

Oh Hi! Do I write here?

Sorry- it’s been a while because I’m horribly busy making my super-fan-fucking-tastic food blog a force to be reckoned with. It’s exhausting. Cooking, eating, cooking, eating, trying to re-configure left overs, cooking, eating.

Ich bin sehr müde.

So anyway- I pulled my head outta my ass long enough to mention that something super fantastic is happening to my best friend in the whole wide world. Even the whole wide web world. So, yeah, BIG. Oh, and did I mention that I can’t tell you what it is????

Hahahhaah. I’m kinda a bitch like that. On the up side, my people know that I can keep a secret FOREVER. Even if it means that we don’t know the president is having an affair with an alien weather for today.

Ok- enough subterfuge. I have a best friend and she is experiencing something remarkable right now- something I have had a slightly similar experience with recently. Still can’t tell you, but I’m pretty fucking happy because she’s pretty fucking happy.

I once crossed a line and almost lost her and tonight she said the words “What did you do!!??” They almost killed me because I’m protective and fierce, but not stupid. I did nothing. I sat at home and worried and cried a few times and felt sad and then happy and then sad and then mad and then brilliantly happy.

Wow. For anyone other than Suz, exactly how annoying is this post? HA! it’s ok though- it’s been so damn long since I posted that I doubt any of you are still here.

Sorry internet but that’s all you get. I am happy because she is happy and we now (kind of) weirdly share something that I didn’t think I’d ever be able to explain to anyone. Ever. And no, by “share” I don’t mean that I slept with her husband (though when agreeing to be her son’s godparent she tried to make me promise that I would divorce Steve & marry Stan in the event of her death. She even said Steve & I could stay married as long as we pretended that we weren’t and I “became” Stan’s wife.) Yeah- she’s a total fucking weirdo.

But, we have already shared so much through out our lives and when I hit that weird patch I was kind of alone, or so I thought. Now we can both wear that shit eating grin and feel a deep sense of happiness/fulfillment/love/wonder.

Yup. Fuck you all because no matter how great your best friend is, mine is still better.

posted by: Kim
posted on: September 26th, 2011

When you read this post, you may have a distinct idea as to whether or not I am a good person. It should also be said that your personal thoughts on this post will give ME a distinct idea as to whether or not I like you.

So I’m hand-rolling rice paper ginger pork and mixed greens rolls (because I’m fucking awesome!) and my husband starts to be even more pathetic than he was an hour earlier. (Not to say my husband is pathetic, in fact he kind of rules and is probably WAY cooler than your husband but he was feeling “poorly”) He was a wee bit doozy and woozy and all of those other words that you associate with something rather Dr. Suess-ish. So, he was going to roll down the street to our dim sum spot to pick up out favorites (prawn & leek cake, prawn & corn dumpling, steamed beef buns, prawn spring rolls & steamed prawn bun)  and it becomes clear to me at some point while rolling those little rice packages of goodness that my husband has the flu. I was hesitant to diagnose his lethargy as the flu any earlier due to the sheer volume of wine that we had consumed the night before. However, it was obvious rather quickly that I was going to have to run down to Happy Good Time Meals and pick up the desired dim sum. Before leaving I asked him if he wanted tea or water, a hot water bottle or fuzzy blanket (read as; awesome sympathetic wife!) He declined and I skipped off to pick up a dinner of delights that would be supplemented with my hand rolled deliciousness. (Again, AWESOME WIFE!)

So throughout the evening he seemed to be getting worse and by the time that I returned with an earth killing amount of styro take out containers, he was in the throws of feeling like utter crap. I dished out and he ate a few cursory bites before going to bed.

I rubbed his neck and shoulders until he fell asleep and then I went and ate all of his dim sum.

posted by: Kim
posted on: August 10th, 2011

Terrific. It’s center of the fucking sun hot and we get thunder with no rain. Really? I could actually fry an egg on my left boob. Well, if it weren’t for the dogs. The licking just makes it creepy.

posted by: Kim
posted on: March 5th, 2011

It’s official gang. We are doomed.

I believe that we are too stupid to continue much longer. My proof of this? There is now a reality show centered around people that blow up balloons and make things out of them.

This is a show. About blowing up balloons.


posted by: Kim
posted on: February 3rd, 2011

With all the craziness going on with Fig and Pepper, my birthday last week, Gray’s b-day the week before and the recent absolute insanity at work I have not only been neglecting all of the blogs that I love but I have also been neglecting this poor baby. Poor repliderium. I do love you.

She says while tenderly stroking it’s cheek.

I will be back, I promise.

I just don’t know when.

posted by: Kim
posted on: December 14th, 2010

Part 1 DEATH

For those interested, the wake for Uncle Tim was brilliant.(as wakes go) It consisted of my cousin Shannon’s rather large 3 story home being packed to the rafters with Holden’s as far as the eye could see. There was too much food, a “booze station” on every level, a container of ashes, and only 1 short speech followed by yet more hugging and kissing and laughing.

We celebrate life. We say “fuck you, death we got some beer to drink.”

Oddly enough, no one fell in the bonfire which might actually be a record. (Could have to do with the fact that there was a “smoking room” in the basement therefore negating the necessity of freezing your fucking ass off out in the backyard.) It was Edmonton people. They know how to do cold.

Part 2 TEETH

I got two fillings today. This means that I had two itty bitty tiny cavities (and one more that I will have done in Feb.) I have giant crevasses in my molars. So big that if you fell into one, unlike your unsuccessful attempt in the backyard with the shovel, if you fell in you would actually end up in China. Hang out in any dive shop world wide and you’ll hear old seasoned pros saying shit like “Mariana’s Trench? Pfft! That’s nothing man, you ever dove Kim’s molars?”

Ok, Ok, I get that cavities aren’t exactly earth shattering news…….


So my dentist tells me that they might be Steve’s fault. Introducing new bacteria, sharing a toothbrush now and then, and he, though blessed with good teeth, hadn’t seen a dentist in about a decade. She said if I’ve gone my whole life without them, chances are.. Steve is the culprit.

So… My fucking husband gave me cavities. They feel like soft weird gum stuck in my teeth that I am rubbing my tongue raw with while trying to dig it out. THEY SUCK ASS!!!! However, given my obvious fear, the dentist switched into “I’m working on a 8 year olds mouth” mode and patiently explained everything that was about to happen. At the end, she even walked me to the “treasure chest” so that I could pick something out. I chose a plastic ring with a green stone.

I’d like to say I’m kidding about that last part, but I’m not.

Part 3 Presents

It’s less than 2 weeks to Christmas, DID YOU NOT READ PART TWO??????? MY HUSBAND GAVE ME CAVITIES!!!!

posted by: Kim
posted on: November 19th, 2010

It’s a well known fact that people who put up Christmas lights in OCTOBER or NOVEMBER drive me completely batshit crazy.

Having said that….. as of tomorrow, November 20th, I will be done all of my Christmas shopping. Including stocking stuffers.

I know. I’m confusing.

posted by: Kim
posted on: November 9th, 2010

Tonight I shall primp and paint and try to look like someone who spends less than 70% of her life in flannel pajama pants and attend a little wine and cheese gallery event. I will even wear my sexy black boots- the kind that Susin & I use to call “Come fuck me” boots when we saw girls wearing them in high school. Wait. Are “Come fuck me” boots only the ones that go all the way up to your thigh? In that case I’ll be wearing my “How about just a little oral?” boots and maybe even a little perfume.

I like these little soirees. I like wine and cheese and appetizers and clean underwear and lipstick. I do not however usually like the other people that attend. I find pretension extremely irritating and chances are that at least one person will walk in wearing a fucking beret and stand all jaunty like in front of random works and hum and haw about their deeper meaning. They won’t know the deeper meaning- they’re just concerned that they appear to be contemplating it.

I shall do my best to refrain from calling anyone an asshat tonight. I shall also automatically befriend anyone that comes up to me and says “Hey! Those are great come fuck me boots!”