Kimba's Journal (original) (raw)
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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded inKimba's LiveJournal:
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| Tuesday, May 8th, 2007 | |
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| 1:32 pm | Dima Dima's parents have expressed their thanks for the support our community has offered over the past difficult days, and would very much appreciate his many friends attending his funeral. It will be held this Friday at 11am, with private time from 10:15 onwards. Those coming should gather at my house on Thursday night (bring sleeping gear), or on Friday before 9am. If you wish to come over earlier still, the house is open all week.We request that our showing is appropriately dressed - black or grey, and a neat shirt if you have it available. Additionally, Dima's parents have requested that no flowers be brought. Instead, they ask that we each bring a plushie representing who we each were to our dear friend.If there are any additional questions I can answer, please get in touch with me by email or here. (8 Comments |Comment on this) |
| Sunday, May 6th, 2007 | |
| 1:02 pm | Terrible news It's my sad duty to inform of a tragedy. Last night I received a call from my close friend Dima's (Or Keesa to those he knew online) parents; he was found dead in his room at around 9pm. I spent some time at his house trying to piece together what had happened, but it's too early to say for sure. Everyone here is still in shock; I don't think the true reality of what has happened will sink in for a while yet.I will provide full details as soon as they are available. In the meantime, if you're local our house is open today for those needing to talk or pay their respects.- Kimba (39 Comments |Comment on this) |
| Wednesday, April 4th, 2007 | |
| 1:49 pm | Centerparcs There's another Centerparcs trip running this month at De Kempervennen on the NL/BE border. It runs from Fri 20th Apr until Sun 23rd, and costs roughly Eur100,- per person for the 4-day weekend based on 6 people sharing a 'Deluxe' grade 6-person cottage. This price includes a couple of evening barbecues. The rest of the food is self-catered.We've filled about three cottages so far from those interested. If you think you want to come, let me know at kimbalion@gmail.com (obviously remove the bit :) ). I'll need to book by this weekend at the latest.Facilities include real snow skiing/snowboarding, wakeboarding, climbing, forest walking, an indoor adventure swimming complex and loads of other stuff. For more details, check out http://www.centerparcs.nl and have a look at De Kempervennen. (18 Comments |Comment on this) |
| Friday, November 17th, 2006 | |
| 2:26 pm | Projector As you might know, our home in the Netherlands was recently burgled. One of the valuables taken was my best projector, an Infocus LP850 (4500 lumens of yum. *cry!*). True to form, the insurance company is being as awkward as possible. So, if anyone has visited in the last two years and has taken pictures in the front room which include the projector (it's the big grey one), could they send 'em to me at kimbalion@gmail.com? Thanks! -K (10 Comments |Comment on this) |
| Monday, May 8th, 2006 | |
| 2:53 pm | Ten years of FurryMUCK! Today marks the tenth 'birthday' of my character on FurryMUCK. Tempus fugit and all that jazz. During this time I've wasted countless hours (mostly when I should have been working), and logged in no less than 8,711 times. That's around 2.4 logins per day. For a bloody decade. I need to get a life. :)Created: Wed May 8 05:45:51 PDT 1996Modified: Mon May 8 05:45:22 PDT 2006Lastused: Mon May 8 05:46:15 PDT 2006Usecount: 8711 (35 Comments |Comment on this) |
| Thursday, April 20th, 2006 | |
| 1:44 pm | After a year of abstinence... I just spotted that I haven't written in this journal in over a year. Yet again it's not like I haven't had anything to write about, more that so much has been going on that I simply didn't know what to choose. Over the coming weeks I'll be jotting down the little caveats I can remember from the last 12 months, but in the meantime here's some of what's been going on;After three months of guns, car crashes, fevers, 7 day weeks and 12-16 hour days in Pakistan, I burned out in a huge way and spent some months combatting the resultant stress issues caused.My company promptly screwed me out of the large bonus I was promised for said work. This didn't help the stress. Turning up at 11am for the next 6 months and doing no work all day helped hugely.I was offered a good job at a cryptography startup in the UK, and am currently waiting to sign up with them and resign from my current employer. I plan to commute between Holland and England on a weekly basis.I spent a month in Canada with my fiance Adam, after which he came back with me to Holland to live. This helped get rid of stress. :)Adam and I built enclosures and established a small animal breeding programme. We now have over 100 critters - we'll need help naming them, so I'll post pictures soon.My 2003 purchase of a Flowboard has grown into an obsession. The boyfy and I plan to start selling extreme sports equipment online before the end of the year. We currently have around 20 devices of stupidity like this.I broke my hand playing with LARP swords. Don't ask.My closest colleague burned out, stood up from his desk and got on a flight out of the country, leaving everything he owned. I can't say I blame him.Bruce (an old friend from the UK) moved into our spare room and now uses our place as a weekend getaway.I (nearly) finished my home cinema system. It now weighs around 200 kilograms and fills up most of downstairs. I hope that one day it will attain self-awareness and lead the human race to a far cooler future. Or something.Adam and I took a Christmas break in the German alps for a spot of snowboarding after a business trip to Munich. Photos to come.I spent a little time working in Athens, Greece where I was terribly surprised to also find snow. More to come, I promise! :) (54 Comments |Comment on this) |
| Sunday, April 17th, 2005 | |
| 2:25 pm | Right, so I'm in Abu Dhabi and.. My most recent work project failed to get off to a flying start yesterday. Well, to be a fair the plane did too. On my way to Pakistan via the United Arab Emirates, my first flight was sat at Amsterdam Schiphol on the runway with engineering problems for 5 1/2 hours*. When we finally made it to our destination, I was greeted with the cheery news that there weren't any flights to Lahore for days. Anyway, some quick wrangling later and I was granted a temporary stay in UAE. Hopefully I should be able to fly to Muscat (Oman) tonight in order to hop over to Lahore. My hotel is here certainly interesting. It's a rather pretty little oasis in the middle of a bloody great desert, and thankfully heavily air-conditioned. Being outside grants one a rather accurate impression of what it's like to be baked alive while someone fires small insects at your forehead with an air pistol. The only other event of note so far has been becoming stuck in my room toilet for an uncomfortably long time. Not for the obvious reasons, but largely since the lock can apparently only be operated from the outside. I eventually gave up on being rescued and escaped by disassembling my cigarette lighter and using the metal bits to take the door handle apart. I now feel like the MacGuyver of conveniences. Next stop, Oman.* I'm going to have KLM's small, sensitive little orbs for this. (34 Comments |Comment on this) |
| Monday, February 21st, 2005 | |
| 11:13 am | RIP doc. Reading the news this morning I was saddened to read of the death of one of my few real icons, Hunter S. Thompson. I'd salute him with a sizable bong right now, but I doubt the rest of the office would appreciate it. Hunter S. Thompson Commits Suicide (BBC News) (4 Comments |Comment on this) |
| Thursday, December 16th, 2004 | |
| 11:02 pm | Dutch Department of Drugs and Dildos I have been ricocheting around Europe like a pingpong ball in a clothes dryer lately. Because of this I have, I must confess, slowly been becoming jaded toward the joy of travel. It therefore felt like a normal week when the Swiss client involved with our current project decided to conduct a change when they actually had no staff available at all and my boss and I were forced to depart rapidly for Zurich and Geneva respectively. To cut a long story short, I found myself being searched in a security check on my return trip through Geneva airport. Something mysterious was setting off their metal detectors and, on discovering that this was actually a shiny metallic condom* package, the customs official quickly averted both his gaze and his suspicions. This was a damned good thing since I quickly noticed I was also holding in plain sight a not inconsequential bag of hash which I'd somehow inadvertently smuggled over from Holland in my back pocket. My boss also had a dodgy trip. Burned out and back at his hotel room, he decided to have a quickie from the mini-bar. He gave up when he discovered that some shrewd bastard had consumed most of the spirits and replaced them with water and tea. About to collapse into his bed, his foot bumped into something just underneath. To what must have been his unimaginable horror, he then came face to phallus with what my colleague gleefully told me was a fifteen inch rubber cock, presumably left there by the previous occupant and was not (I hope at least) a liberal minded yet presumptuous gesture by the hotel staff. I somehow lost the hash on the return flight and, somewhat sensibly I might add, my boss did not elect to return with said rubber knobbler. I am no longer jaded.* No, I didn't carry it on the off-chance of a little aerial nookie with a steward, I had it because I'd picked it up the day before. It was free. And shiny. I still covet it, and may yet fashion some fetching party balloons from the enclosed prophylactics. Current Mood:  amused (11 Comments |Comment on this) |
| Monday, November 15th, 2004 | |
| 3:35 pm | Bollocks. I never did have good timing. On Friday I flew back from yet another week in Switzerland, looking forward to my first free weekend in a very long time. On descending towards Amsterdam I started to get serious trouble from my right ear as it's inner pressure wouldn't equalise. Weirdly, it got worse that night - I (and by proxy  kensaro) was woken up early on Saturday morning by what I can only describe as some of the worst pain I've ever experienced. A quick trip to the hospital the next day revealed I had flown with an inner ear infection - not a clever idea by anyone's measure. I've got antibiotics and a truly wimpy ear drop solution, but while the pain at night is easing up, I still have loud and incessant ringing instead of hearing in my right ear. My sense of balance is completely off and sitting up straight often results in a dizzying sensation not unlike being caught sideways in a tumble dryer. Understandably, I'm taking some time off work (and flying) while this fixes up. I'm trying to reassure myself that I haven't done any permanent damage and enjoy this extended break from work freakiness, but it's rather hard when the two things you most wanted to do (listen to spangly new sound kit* and leap around like an idiot on skatey things**) are currently impossible. * Uber-snorty-ninja-grade-8.3-surround doesn't sound very impressive when it feels like your head's stuck in a Vaseline-filled fishtank all the time. ** I've just about mastered walking without falling over sideways now. I've avoided skating for three days now, despite my masochistic little shoulder devil urging me to go anyway. (11 Comments |Comment on this) |
| Saturday, October 16th, 2004 | |
| 11:52 pm | Strange Days Despite repeated promises to myself to catch up with recent events on my journal, I still haven't managed a thing. Tonight would have been the night I'd have done so, but yet again I find myself distracted.I'm currently in Lausanne, Switzerland, after what's been yet another crazy few weeks. I spent last week working here too, and the weekend inbetween in England (helping Yukai out with a music video project). As usual I'm not entirely sure what's up or down, recovering from the standard manner of weirdness. Sat in my four-star come two-star hotel (hint: Never, ever go to the Hotel Continental in Lausanne. It sucks.), I'm picking at a wildly overpriced (yet thankfully company-funded) Chinese takeaway and wondering quite why it is I'm here.Of course, I should know why I'm here. I'm here to work, and, given that flying home for only 2 days is a royal pain in the arse, the company put me up and let me loose on Lausanne for the weekend.I spent today carving down Lausanne's many winding streets on my Flowboard, sitting in parks and staring wistfully at the mountains on the other side of Lake Geneva. It's truly breathtaking here, with much to do and explore - yet somehow I find myself again craving companionship, pacing around yet another faux-classy* hotel room. * Real hotels have taste. And facilities.Speaking of company, I can't say I didn't find it either - I met a lovely lady named Anna (somewhere in her thirties) with whom I spent a couple of very pleasant hours walking around the city, chatting and exploring the walkways and backalleys of Lausanne's town centre. We exchanged phone numbers, yet it was only upon parting that I realised I may have entirely misread her intentions. I've been invited back for dinner this week, a fact which strikes me as highly unusual for merely a friendly chatter. I'm feeling distinctly uneasy in that I may have to explain that I'm not just gay but also engaged.In a bit of a daze from my afternoon with Anna, I wandered down some steps to my hotel, to be greeted by the crash of a red wine bottle by my feet. A random turkish guy began to shout in French, aggreived that I had trashed his drink - with which he'd been juggling, poorly. Demanding money for his bottle, he and his friends jumped me, trying to pull me into a backalley. Only twenty metres from the hotel, I decided it was better to try to make it to safe ground, taking a punch to the jaw and carrying said simian's girlfriend on my back a lot of the way. After dragging myself (and by the feel of things, several others) through the hotel doors, I thought I was safe. What followed was pure farce, as the hotel manager stared blankly at me while I demanded the police were called, trying to fend off an enraged moron. Eventually he backed off. The police were never summoned. It's for this reason that I shall break with convention and name a certain Jannis Geramiddis for his sheer failure to be a hotel director/manager or even a decent human being.What did I learn from this? Well, for one I shall never again spend the weekend away on business. Secondly, friendly conversation can lead to embarrassing consequences. Finally, idiot Swiss-French turkish guys punch like girls*.* An unfair statement, since I know several girls who could easily knock me flying.I've calmed myself down and I won't be marching around the corner to introduce someone to Mr. Skate Tool. I'm better than to do that, and I'm certainly better than street slime like I encountered - yet somehow I can't help but feel a little defeated. What part of being male demands that violence and revenge can be recompense in any way? Judging by the truly wimpy smack on the jaw, I'd have torn the guy apart had I given in to my baser instincts. Yet, what would that have earned me? A night in jail and some macho sense of self esteem? Why is it, then, that I can't feel a sense of pride for having risen above common idiocy?Of course, there's no universal answer to that one. As is usual for odd days like this, I'll feel a tingle of regret and mystification at the day's events. What's not usual is that tomorrow I shall be up early, on a train to Les Diableres (a local glacier), strapping on a snowboard and getting ready for some sheer mentalism. The snows are here early.It's dark now, but when I get up tomorrow I know I'll be greeted with another scene like I photographed this morning;To be honest, I can't help but grin like a bastard. (11 Comments |Comment on this) |
| Thursday, September 30th, 2004 | |
| 6:20 pm | If a straight man has a girl in every port, does a gay man have a fruit in every bowl? (16 Comments |Comment on this) |
| Wednesday, September 15th, 2004 | |
| 5:37 pm | I'm gettin' married! I had planned on writing a long summary of my recent month in Canada, however I've been terribly busy since getting back. I figure I'll write a proper summary later but there's one piece of news which simply can't wait; on Saturday August 28th in Algonquin national park in Ontario, Canada, Adam and I got engaged! I'm still trying to think of a way in which to break this to my (rather conservative) family, but I figure I'll have plenty of time to do that before we get hitched. :) Current Mood: ecstatic (47 Comments |Comment on this) |
| Wednesday, June 30th, 2004 | |
| 6:39 am | Triumph and tragedy I haven't posted in a long time again. Ironically, my not writing anything has largely been the result of too many things happening that I'd like to write about. It's 5am and I'm still up as my sleep cycle's a bit dodgy and I'm thinking too much to rest anyway. It's largely the culmination of a rapid and entirely unexpected acceleration in Life In General since May, but mostly it's been the events of the last two days.( A really long-winded reflection on just some of the significant events of the last few months. I figure I'll sleep a lot better by putting my thoughts to text.Collapse ) (39 Comments |Comment on this) |
| Monday, April 5th, 2004 | |
| 12:14 am | Mountain Boards, Strawberry Frogs and Brad Pitt's Arse. A friend of mine recently snagged a cushy job with Strawberry Frog, the advertising agency responsible for, amongst other things, the Sony Ericsson T300 'drool' ad campaign. So, when he called to ask if I'd like to come to the 5 year corporate bash I needed little convincing. Of course, the prospect of perhaps being able to spend the whole evening downing freebie drinks was made even more attractive by the prospect of spending the whole evening downing freebie drinks and staring incessantly at Brad Pitt's arse. Having quite some pull, S.F. were apparently trying to pull some celebs along.yaoikitty, fleet, iakat and housemates, my mission in Sheffield was simple. Spend a week pursuing and exploring the depths of human(?) depravity and live to tell the tale. While I clearly managed the depravity and survival parts (unless this is the afterlife and I'm just too hung over to tell yet), the latter may be tough since my memory of events is particularly hazy. What I can say for sure is that I had a screaming time, met lots of new folks, took up Mountain Boarding and ate lots of curry. I'm fairly sure I went to the Liverpool NF meet too, but owing to a one pound fifty shooter and beer combo deal, I and the other dedicated alcoholics soon elected to split with the group and get hammered. I was particularly impressed to see Spring put away 20 shots in 15 minutes and still walk out - likewise fleet, whom elected to leave in a more traditional horizontal fashion. My trip back was entertaining, British public transport maintaining it's spectacular standards of ineptitude by depositing me at Liverpool 'John Lennon' Airport about a minute too late for my return flight check in. Bastards. I sat* there for another 12 hours before the next flight out to Amsterdam. Thankfully, Chotah came out to keep me company for a while and I was able to survive my airport ordeal without once being forced to ride my new board down the escalators to relieve boredom.* By sit I mean 'Pace incessantly.' (3 Comments |Comment on this) |
| Friday, February 13th, 2004 | |
| 1:09 pm | |
| Wednesday, February 4th, 2004 | |
| 12:25 am | Fear and Loathing in San Jose, part 2 After a seemingly endless taxi around the runways of SFO we were finally allowed off the plane. Kensaro had thankfully dried up (from a tea spill, see previous post), which was a plus since neither of us relished the idea of US customs, especially not when one of us looked like he had an incontinence problem. The first stage of customs, newly decked out with cameras and fingerprinting kits, proved oddly boring. They took no interest in me whatsoever, a fact I can only attribute to my Instant Respectability Kit - a woolen poloneck jumper, a hair band and a sudden propensity for speaking Queen's English. My calm was soon to be broken however. After collecting my bag, I realised I'd managed to smuggle a contraband orange into the country in my hand luggage. Given that fruits and vegetables are one of the key items to declare - or rather not to bring at all - I decided to flee to the toilets in order to dispose of the offending snack. In retrospect, I'm not quite sure why I was so worried. After all, it was just an orange (albeit a big fat juicy one) and I'd just need to rip it to pieces before disposing of the thing - at least that was the plan. I'd barely managed to pull it in half before it slipped from my hands, fell in the toilet bowl and was sucked noisily around the U-bend. Evidently the flashy automated flush system had detected an oddly citrussy deposit - or maybe it was just me flapping around near the IR sensors. I rejoined my travelling companion outside, slightly ashen faced and painfully aware that I'd just been chased from an airport toilet cubicle by a rapidly overflowing bog. I consoled myself in knowing that at least it'd smell nice for the poor bastard who had to clean up. The poloneck clearly paid off again at the final customs check. A customs official casually rattled off a list of substances, "Marijuana? Ecstacy? Heroin?". I bit my tongue, deciding that "Oooh, how much?" may be a poor response and shook my head, manhandling my gigantic kit bag past scores of bored-looking officials. Thankfully (and I mean that most sincerely folks - jetlag and a cheap red wine hangover aren't a nice combination) vandringar and torrle were kind enough to drive to the airport to pick us up. After a quick meal of Pho (think Vietnamese noodle soup), we were back at Van's apartment, which I can only describe as a fascinating chimera of space-saving Ikea design and rampant unchecked botany. Later, I caught a lift over to Centaur, Booga and Inu's place where a carefully administered concoction of Jamesons and bong abuse put me out like a narcoleptic on valium. (11 Comments |Comment on this) |
| Monday, February 2nd, 2004 | |
| 10:57 pm | Fear and Loathing in San Jose, part 1 I arrived back from my travels on Friday, but owing to a bastard-strength case of jetlag, an accumulated hangover and an irrational fear of anything approaching work (Livejournal entries involve thinking. That's close enough), I shall be posting my travel journal in separate parts. You can say what you like about President Bush, but I for one would like to thank him for my being here; by seemingly doing his level best to ensure that nobody wants to visit the US right now, he in fact made this trip possible. KLM, in a desperate bid to fill flights, offered a return to San Francisco for half the usual amount of air miles... of course, I couldn't resist. On our outbound leg, I was jarred awake by a sudden loud flurry of profanity and the sudden unpleasant realisation that half a planeful of jittery-looking passengers were staring in our direction. A cup of boiling water sat precariously on a seat tray had upended itself neatly over my housemate's groin as the passenger in the seat in front moved. A flight attendant was quick to assist, allowing us to use the curtained staff rest area at the end of the plane for us to take a look at the burn. Sadly it appears she wasn't so swift to tell her colleagues, and one soon got the shock of her life when she popped out for a breather. Whipping back the divider curtain, she found me on my knees in front of kensaro, scrutinising his groin while he stood with his trousers around his ankles. She left twice as fast as she had appeared, looking like the devil himself was after her. I for one have found scant exception to the stereotype of gay airline stewards, and the one who appeared moments later to peek through the curtains with a knowing smirk wasn't about to buck the trend. Unfortunately (though I'm still trying to fathom who was more embarrassed) I took this glimmer of acknowledgement to assume that the coast was clear to whip the curtains back and return to my seat, disposing of a large wad of sullied paper towels while Kensaro fiddled with his belt and flies. The /entire/ cabin crew blinked back at us both this time, having presumably gathered forces in order to discuss the forcible removal of a couple of apparently randy homosexual Mile High Club wannabes from their rest area. As the paper towels so ominously signified, they were too late to put a stop to whichever unspeakable acts had been committed. I've never seen so many people trying desperately to look in other directions* in my life. I thought it was far too funny to attempt to explain at this point, and returned to my miniscule seat to grin like a tripping Cheshire Cat for the rest of the flight.* When you're in the a small plane galley / staff area, that's quite a task. (20 Comments |Comment on this) |
| Sunday, December 21st, 2003 | |
| 6:13 pm | |
| Monday, December 8th, 2003 | |
| 5:12 pm | This weekend I popped over to Northern Ireland for a weekend's silliness. Photos can be found here, or ( read the report.Collapse ) (12 Comments |Comment on this) |
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