Dr Yes: Spy Gadget
“Dr Yes” has been running almost a week, so it’s high time for some high-tech gadgetry. Below is just one of a multitude of different cameras found at www.minispycamera.org/spy_camera.htm
Hm…pictures aren’t working. You’ll just have to click on the link and see for yourselves.
Medical Drama
No more Flagyl-ation for me. I still have giardia (I assume; one of the symptoms of Flagyl pills is nausea), but the pills are having the following side effects:
1. Bad taste in my mouth anytime I’m not eating (in a not-very-shocking twist, I’ve gained over 1.5 kilos since I began taking them). Apparently this is because of the overgrowth of Candida (a kind of yeast).
2. Minor pains, headaches, etc.
3. Skin sensitivity, which this morning became officially a rash – much like the rash I get from penicillin, which I’m allergic to. I thought this’d be the winner in getting me off the meds, but no; this is:
4. Very mild tingling in left leg one night.
#4 Apparently means my head will fall off (that IS what peripheral neuropathy MEANS, right?) Well ok, I think “peripheral neuropathy” actually means “mild tingling in leg at night”, but it’s something you’re meant to tell your doctor, STAT! so, since my doctor is shut for two days, I’ll just stop taking it until then.
Since nausea is a symptom of both the disease and the cure, I may be better by then.
Normally I would never stop taking antibiotics partway through a course (although, to be fair, it was initially meant to only take a week).
DR YES: story so far
1.
I unclipped Yen’s handcuffs and went down on one knee under the tropical sun of her prison-island home. “My darling, will you marry me?”
*
“’Kay,” she said.
I stood and kissed her tenderly, then ran for the chaplain. When he was ready to go, I decided to freshen up.
* (3 hour gap)
I emerged resplendent to find the priest knocked out, my ornithopter gone, and my fiancé. . . well, she was obviously still doing her hair.
2.
The love of my life, gone! She may still be cross that I killed her power-mad mum. But surely she doesn’t STILL want to destroy the world?
*
Time to be a super-handsome super-spy again. Thank goodness for plastic surgery. Yen was born in Beijing, so I got a flight there at once.
*
I was met at the airport by a strangely attractive nun who took me deep underground before telling me the horrible truth: “Yen’s my cousin.”
3.
In laws! They’re always so tetchy. I let the nun torture me a few hours and then knocked her out with a high-kick to the face. Then I fled.
4.
I searched for Yen in the shopping district. As I tried on an especially snazzy shirt in the back, I heard the nun’s nasal tones.
*
The evil nun was apparently in league with my shopkeeper! A deadly pair! I duct-taped shut the mouths of the other patrons and listened in.
*
“Yen’s in Beijing – and so’s that British superspy,” said the nun.
The shopkeeper said, “We’ll kill them both!”
“Perfect. Hey, nice shirts!”
5.
I bought hundreds of TV and streetside ads warning Yen of her mortal danger – and asking her to pretty please return my ornithopter.
*
As I returned to my hotel after another day of searching, I found a single long-stemmed black rose on my pillow. She still loved me!
Dr Yes: Metalhead Steampunk Party
Okay, okay. I’m going ON about steampunk. But with good reason.
Here’s a steampunk dragon:
http://kerembeyit.deviantart.com/art/Steampunk-Dragon-130083473
And HERE is my friend’s metalhead steampunk party:
http://steffmetal.com/steampunk-birthday-party-great-bogan-train-robbery/
Smorgasblog
2am. Can’t sleep. Random blogliness ensues.
There’s much gratuitous cuteness today at http://twittertales.wordpress.com
*
A couple of nights ago, my cat was sitting on my husband’s chest, purring loudly as my husband snored. I slid out of bed and crept around to the other side to get his iphone to record them both. My attempt was foiled when my partner woke up and helpfully passed me his flashlight.
*
I have to take another 21 anti-parasite pills. It’s at the point now where I’m pretty sure the pills are worse than what’s left of my giardia. They leave a permanent bad taste in my mouth (sore throat, too) as if I’ve just thrown up. It vanishes for about five minutes after I eat, then reappears.
*
My husband and efficiency don’t get along, so I’m attempting to write a sort of will – more a set of instructions for if I suddenly die (stuff like the phone numbers of all my students so someone actually tells them why I don’t show up). If he dies, it’s a lot simpler for me, because I AM efficient. All I need to do is:
1. Get his insurance money to pay for the funeral. Register for the dole to pay for rent and food.
2. Throw stuff away (mostly his) and move somewhere smaller.
3. Take happy pills and/or avoid human contact.
I wish I knew the statistics for how often spouses drop dead/are killed in the first, say, ten years of marriage. Pretty sure rational data would help dissipate my conviction that SOMETHING bad has to be about to happen. My marriage really is the easiest thing about my life.
*
Avocados: so delicious, but so risky. Does buying a rock-hard avocado EVER result in an edible avocado? I think not.
*
World’s most terrifying slogan (for Kresta blinds):
Windows come ALIVE!
*
Wish I could sleep. This is silly.
*
Mental illness is a lot like PMS, plus having a vital assignment due at 5pm, and also being naked.
It’s all about incoherant rage, a sense of doom (and guilt), and humiliation.
It’s also a lot like being a teenager (is there any experience more horrifying?) or being old (when suddenly you can’t do things you used to be able to do).
Still can’t quite convince myself I’m not making the whole thing up. What kind of s*** would that make me, after all these years?
It’s just so. . . stupid. I should be able to walk it off.
*
On Monday I made oat cookies with brown sugar, butter, flour, oats, cinnamon and vanilla. The raw mixture was infinitely better than the biscuits. Why is that always the case?
Luckily I mostly just ate the mixture.
*
Yesterday I had a D and M with a student about boys. She’s stunningly gorgeous, but doesn’t want to get into a relationship until she’s well into a degree. That was cool. Especially finding out people actually still say, “D and M”. Wow.
*
I wish I was friends with Queen Elizabeth, so she could tell me how to sell my writing. I think she might be the greatest self-promoter ever.
*
Pretty sure that if I just go into cryogenic suspension, one of my books will be published.
But not completely sure. Got to keep writing more better-er while I wait.
DR YES: Ninja Kitten
In the first draft of the first Jimmy Bind adventure, the Shaolin monks were ninjas. That was changed for the rather important reason that ninjas are Japanese (and confusing the Chinese and Japanese is especially bad due to some unpleasant bits of history).
On the other hand, ninja is more fun to say. So here’s my photographic proof that I’m sharing my home with an EVIL NINJA CAT:
1. She strikes from above.
2. She strikes from below.
3. She strikes from unexpected places.
4. She lurks in the dark.
4. She is a stone cold killer.
6. Only pure evil can look that good.
QED.
DR YES: Men in trenchcoats
This is not a spy story. But it is actually true from beginning to end, and it happened – you’ll love this – in 1800s Britain. Enjoy!
My grandmother’s parents died when she was fourteen, so she raised her two younger brothers on her own. When she was a young woman, she was walking home on her own when she realised she was being followed.
The gentleman wore a top hat and a long dark trenchcoat. The night was misty and (remember this is the 1800s) dark.
My grandmother sped up – so did he. She slowed down, and he didn’t turn away. As she crossed a bridge, he caught up to her, and threw off the trenchcoat to terrify the young woman with all his naked glory.
She looked at him without flinching and said, “Is that all?”
Because nothing is scary once you’ve raised teenage boys.
DR YES: Welcome, my pretties. . .
Welcome to a new tale, and a new blog theme.
This blog will have a lot of cool spy gadgets on it.
Jimmy Bind and Yen have appeared before, in January 2010. Here’s their previous story in its full and chronological form:
Jimmy Bind still has an inexhaustible supply of gaffa (aka duct tape, for you USAers out there), plus all the gadgets he had first time around – a shoe phone, two cast iron matchbox cars (with grapples and cameras built in), a sleeping-gas pen and blow-up gum.
Yen is the Chinese super-spy he apprehended last story.
Anyone feel the lack of a specific gadget or spy trope? Let me know in the comments, and I’ll see what I can do.
Felicity Banks 