A Mischievous Milestone!

I’m pretty sure that since most humans are too busy to keep track of such things–and that some (like the human female) can’t count that high–none of the minions who read this ongoing record of my exploits have realized that, sometime in the last week, my journal has passed



Granted, some of them were brief announcements (often of the nature of “I didn’t do it” with a chuckle at some poor mortal’s misfortune), but I still feel this calls for some sort of recognition.

Gather, my adoring masses!  My ears await your paeans of praise!  Where are the armies marching in review?  Where are the fireworks? Where is my parade already?


Ah, well.  At least there’s cake.

>|: [

Feel free to express your adulation in the comments!  Don’t leave me here with only the noise of Thor chewing.

Nuptial Frivolities

The human male’s coworker and his sweetheart are being married today.  Sigyn, you remember them.  He is the one who makes that delicious dish with the shellfish, and she is the one who has paid tribute to my signature look with her hairstyle.

For reasons passing my understanding, I have not been invited to the church for the actual wedding. Sigyn has, though. The human female said that the bride and groom are worried that my glorious presence would upstage their ceremony, but she was making That Face when she said it, the one that means she might be serious or she might be having a snark at my expense.  (Laugh all you want mortal.  I know where you sleep.)


I was not disinvited from the reception, so here I am, ready for a good meal and a slice of the traditional cake.  (Apparently they have decided that I cannot sully cake.)

The hall, Sigyn insists, has been decorated very prettily, but I have no eye for flowers or ribbons or other such folderols.  No, my attention has been caught by the photography booth in the corner.  Some of the props with which attendees may pose are more than a little disturbing.

I have no fond memories of my various encounters with the bearer of this disk…


Captain Spanglepants may occasionally assist me in keeping Sigyn safe, but he is overly friendly with Sigyn and his priggishness is bound to ruin my appetite and sour the champagne.  This reminds me… I never did finish working through my to-do list

Thor’s Bitty Ballpeen!  Don’t tell me my brother is going to show up too!


That’s all I need.  I had better hurry back to Sigyn to make sure none of the Avengers are pestering her with either attentions or boastful war stories.

Behold:  Is not my beloved beautiful by candlelight?


Let us sit here together, my petal, and pretend that all of the celebration is just for us.


The master of ceremonies is announcing dinner.  No one has to call me twice.   Sigyn is starting with the salad.


I, however, have moved ahead to the roast beast and delicious fowl portion of the repast.  If I am to rule this realm, I shall need all my strength.


What would a feast be without music and dancing and laughter and the shrill pipings of younglings as they run about among the tables?  Quieter, I assure you!  But perhaps less festive.  I believe it must be the same in all the realms, for truly, I remember Volstagg’s brood yelling and darting about under the feet of the servers at many a feast back on Asgard.  (I myself, as a young prince, was never allowed to run about, shrieking, at feasts, though I wish I had a gold piece for every time I slid under the table to play with the knives or read my spell books.  Thus, I have no prizes for deportment, either.)

And now, while all the revelers cluster about the happy couple to wish them well, I can get on with the serious business of sampling the cake.


Mmmm. Almond.  And jam.  And buttercream.  Sigyn approves, and so do I!   Would that some of the humans’ friends might wed every week, that we might feast in this manner always!

>|: 9


Gastronomy Week, Part IV: Ich möchte Schnitzel essen, bis die Schweine nach Hause kommen

In keeping with the theme of revisiting old restaurhaunts, we are back at the German Schnitzel Emporium today.  On our previous visit, we learned a lot about sauces and consumed a mountain of fried meaty goodness.

The human female is ordering her usual, the Wiener Schnitzel.


I understand that she has a lemon out in the car, since the last time she came, the kitchen was actually out of lemons, which means she ate Nekkid Schnitzel.

This place is fun, because there is a lot to look at while we wait for the food.


Sigyn, please tell me you checked to see if that was lit before you clambered up and in.

The half-liter steins are quaint, but not terribly comfortable for sitting in.


Fisi, I suspect you do not want to eat that.  It may be calorie-free, gluten-free, and kosher, but I hear it causes cancer in laboratory hyenas.


Sigyn is admiring the checked ribbon on the menu’s spine.  Contemplating a new frock, my love?


The human male’s beer has arrived.  It is a Dunkel something-or-other.


I guess if I lean over a bit more, it will be a Dunkeloki!

Our meals are here!


Bad Fisi!  Let go!  Sigh.  I can’t take that beast anywhere, and I suspect it may be time to get Fisi’s eyesight checked, as hyenas are not generally known for their love of potatoes.

On ever prior visit, the Dessert of the Day has been something chocolate, and the human female has been forced to sit and watch while others partake.  Today, though, the menu features vanilla cake!


And there is great rejoicing!

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Loki Takes New York, Day 12: Last Chance for Anything

Well, even though it is our very LAST day in the city, and thus our last chance to try to get to any of the sights or shops or events that the humans have on their long, long list of unfinished business, they are most definitely slow off the mark this morning.  AT my nudging, the weather has deteriorated to cold and rainy, the male’s knee is bothering him, and the female is twitchy because she feels certain that whatever they don’t get to see will have been the best thing ever.  They’ve made one false start, going back to the hotel for jackets, so now the day is half gone and tempers are fraying.

Breakfast or lunch?  Breakfast or lunch?  Lunch it is.  We are trying one last international meal.  Sigyn, I’m not sure we’ve sampled any of these things before.


“Soft bean curd?” “Ox-knee jelly bone?!”  Um…  Let’s say I have… reservations.

And, um, please tell me that “Bat” is the name of the proprietor, and not something else that’s on the menu.


I do not think this is what we ordered.  I think this is just the previews.


(nibble, nibble)  Wah!   By Volstagg’s straining belt notch!  Sigyn, I know  you like red, but be advised that the color in the red cabbage and the red potatoes is not due to tomato but instead owes more than a little to our friends of the genus Capsicum.

Ah.  The entrees are here.  The human female has ordered something I didn’t quite catch the name of–it sounded like “beep beep boop,” but I don’t suppose that’s right .


Looks just like egg and vegetables and meat over rice.  Harmless enough, I suppose.  Unless the meat used to like to hang upside down in a cave

I have just learned that our prime destination today is another museum.  Auuuugh!  Shoot me now.

And here we are, dripping and ready resigned to look at more stuff.  Hmm.  The humans say this used to be someone’s house and that most of the contents belonged to him.  That’s a little different.

Now this is what I call a study!


Plushy furniture, silk damask wallpaper, huge display of private opulence.  The sheer excess of it all makes my greedy little heart go pitter-pat.  The tourguide/guard is kind of sour and cranky and is giving the human male and his fancy camera the stink-eye, which is a nice bonus for me!

Off the study is a room-sized steel vault, where Mister Moneybags used to keep the cream of his book crop.


No, I’m not drooling; you’re drooling.

The next room is a vast library full of thousands of volumes, each one worth more than the humans, their felines, and the pitiful entirety of their worldly possessions all rolled together.

Sigyn and I especially like this book, which is open for display.


Why?  If you look closely, you can see that the people in the illumination are having pretzels for supper.


(a bit later)  That was a lot of books!  Most of them old and very rare.  I approve of books, though I wish that they weren’t all locked up.  I’d have liked to page through them.

Now we are in part of the house that is more museum-y.   There’s an exhibit of works by a modern sketch/paint artist.  I can’t say I think much of most of it…


… but this one is making me hungry.

There is one whole room full of engraved cylinder seals from ancient Assyria.  I must admit, these are frankly amazing.  They look like shiny pieces of stone, but when rolled into wet clay, they create very intricate impressions.  When I take over Midgard, I will have to re-institute these as a means of authenticating documents.


Look at that detail!  That lion is so very fierce and lifelike.  Truly fit for a king!  Although, for some reason, I find that I identify with that antelope…

If the seals were astonishing, the collection of autographs in the next room is even moreso.

This one was signed by a man who would become a famous, if doomed, medieval English King.


Hmm.  Perhaps I should practice my flourishy penmanship.  When I come to rule this corner of the cosmos, my scribblings will be worth millions.

That was a pleasant way to while away a few hours.  The humans are hoping the weather has improved while we were indoors.

Not so much.


The skyscrapers have all been cut off about fifteen stories up.  So sad!   If it’s this foggy in the afternoon, there’s no chance at all that there will be clear viewing tonight.  Four tries and four misses!  I have succeeded in doing the humans out of their much-awaited trip to the top of that very tall building.

Faced with that sad reality, they have decided to trek to the human female’s favorite building.  Here it is in all its glory:


In the photograph of it that hangs in its lobby.

And, oh, look!  A photo of it lit up at night!


Eh he he he!  And that’s as close as you’re ever going to get, mortals!

The human male has had enough walking.  The female, despite blisters forming under her blisters, has decided there are a few more things she simply has to see, so now we are striding off in search of a pair of famous statues.

Found them.


She wanted to explore the inside of this building–I take it it’s another library–because a) books! and b) there’s an art exhibit inside she wishes to see, but I can’t pass up an opportunity for some mischief, so they have announced closing time about four minutes after we entered.

Nothing for it now but to go back to the inn and try to decide on a place to eat our last dinner in this city.

(later)  With a predictable lack of imagination, the humans have ended up back at one of the first places they ate at!  More shawarma,  but this time accompanied by these strange dark balls.


The human male says they’re called fall-awful.  And you really propose to eat them?!

Well, Sigyn, that’s pretty much the end of this trip.  We’ve seen a lot of art (possibly too much, but I’m glad you liked it all), and I have some fine ideas for my eventual palace and a few notions of how to make correspondence less dull.  We’ve had some interesting food, looked at some flowers, and tried at least seven methods of transportation that I can think of (plane, foot, train, ferry, sailboat, bus, private car.)

Now there’s nothing left to do except sit back, think over our adventure, and watch the humans try to wedge all the accumulated clobber into their very-overstuffed suitcases…

>|: [


At Least *Someone* Remembered.

I was thinking that I would have to make do with the Kingly Cake as birthday tribute, since the solipsistic humans seem to have completely forgotten the significance of the day that is February 9 by Midgardian reckoning.

But then this showed up.


It is from the human female’s mother, one of the few mortals I actually like Clearly the human female did not inherit this good woman’s generosity.

I haven’t a clue as to what it could be.  Come on, Sigyn–help me open it!


It was sent Priority.  Because I’m worth it!


Oof! The cover is heavy!


Pop!  Look at all the bubble wrap! Pop-pop-pop!   There could be anything in here!

Well– That is the most thoughtful—  Words can’t–She went to all the trouble of–


A yellow and green, double-layer carrot cake with cream cheese frosting!  And a green plate and tablecloth!  And a doily!  Here, Sigyn, you can have the first piece.  It looks delectable.


Some people know how to make a god feel special on his birthday!

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