Blogiversary 2006

First of all, on behalf of Ivan and myself, I must thank our readers. I think there are at least six of you now and if we were all Vikings, and you six were berserkers, we’d be unstoppable. Therefore I feel comfortable calling this “an army of readers”, which is immensely satisfying. Thank you, anachronistically literate Viking readers. We like you a lot.

The west coast blogiversary celebration having already commenced with the consumption of Reese's Pieces, Friday's east coast party was heralded by a phone call from Matt, party-organizer, to Simon:

Simon: Hello?
Matt: Hi there.
Simon: Uh, hi. . . . How's it going?
Matt: Well, I'm standing in your garage.
Simon: Why are you doing that?
Matt: My feet are muddy.

Glamorous parties, they are not only for Los Angeles. We have them here, too. Just look at the number of attendees who showed up wearing tiaras.

Simon and Ivan could only manage to carry a single one between them. Platinum and diamonds are heavy. This picture was taken before the row over who got to be Ariel and who had to settle for Cinderella.



Patchogue arrived not only with a tiara but wearing particularly shiny skin. She's posing next to the spider plant, which did not wear jewelry of any kind because it simply doesn't need to.



Heslington did not notice he was wearing a tiara. He does not notice much, actually.



Richard Armitage showed up somewhat overdressed; the tiara, on him, rather smacked of affectation and did not go over well.



In keeping with the tradition of arriving with strange offerings, Adam brought a pirate sword of the plastic blow-up variety. It is pictured here with a previous gift of like kind: a pink blow-up mace. Few people are aware of how historically accurate this reproduction actually is. It so happens that a common Viking saying around the year AD 800 was, "Give me that jewel-encrusted Bible or face spikey pink death!"



The sight of it scares me witless, really.

Matt came bearing chocolate cupcakes covered in chocolate frosting, filled with chocolate pudding, and topped with chocolate chips, which lent them a hedgehogian appearance. Normally I don't take part in cannibalism, but one has to be prepared to make exceptions in certain circumstances, especially if a whole lot of chocolate is involved. They may have had a few structural difficulties but they were delicious.



Naturally the presence of Ivan was much missed, and I am collecting donations to fly her in for next year. I'm also thinking of holding a bake sale and perhaps a silent auction. I have a pink blow-up mace that I think would fetch a handsome sum if I patched its leak. And painted it brown.