RANDOM QUOTE | It is true that liberty is precious; so precious that it must be carefully rationed.
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STRANGE BREW 2.0 | | Category: Booze Tuesday, July 22nd, 2003 @ 10:50 am
| Time to speak once more of the precious brew and the creation thereof.
On Saturday the supplies were acquired and prepared. We decided on trying to stick close to Abita's Turbodog as far as what malt/hops/grain we got. All was go for the brewing to being when disaster struck: the missus got called into work. She told me I could begin, but knowing full well how emotionally attached she was to the whole process, I felt it best to postpone it until Sunday when we could both take part in weaving the beer out of thin beer ingredients.
When Sunday came around, we were rarin' to get a' brewin'. Whipped out all of our supplies and stuffs and started throwing down the mad brew skillz. Boil this, drink beer, soak that, drink beer, dissolve this, drink beer, stir in that, drink beer.
When we were done, we could do nothing but stand in awe at what we had accomplished.
Stay tuned in the coming week(s). Once the entire process is complete, I'll be sure to post a photo-documented step-by-step of the entire process (focusing a lot on the final step: consumption).
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BOOZEY MCBOOZE | | Category: Booze Monday, June 23rd, 2003 @ 03:55 pm
| Ok, I've shirked my duty for long enough. Too much time at home, not enough time ratting the streets, debauching myself. It's high time I high-tail it out of my comfort zone and jump back on the degenerate train.
I apologize to the friends of mine that I was supposed to meet out on Saturday. I can only imagine what you were thinking. Sitting there, rolling your eyes, complaining about how I sold you out again. Then again, maybe you were having too much fun to even notice my absence. Either way, its no good for me.
However much I do love sitting around my house, surrounded by friends, pouring glass after glass of rotgut down my gaping maw, stumbling around starting impromptu fistfights, it doesn't match the sense of allure that a night on the town surrounded by friends, pouring glass after glass of rotgut down my gaping maw, stumbling around starting impromptu fistfights seems to have. I could be wrong, but I doubt it.
This weekend was particularly dissapointing. Friday night some friends came over and we (or maybe just me and the missus) overdid it a bit, and hated life itself for the entirety of the next day. This day being the above stated Saturday of plans with friends. Oh well.
I plan to make up for it this weekend, if not fully, then to the best of my Irish ability.
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STRANGE BREW | | Category: Booze Wednesday, June 4th, 2003 @ 09:46 am
| I have a friend, let's call him "The Winkle", who has recently gotten me and the missus quite excited about the prospect of brewing one's own ice cold beers. A couple weeks ago, we went to his house to bottle some wine he had been aging, and to taste said wine (by the end of the night "tasting" apparently meant going through about 4-5 bottles). It was pretty impressive to see somebody weave around 20 bottles of alcohol out of thin air and grape juice.
It got me thinking, and during this thinking I had the following thought:
"Self, you do like you some alcohol. You also don't like to spend a lot of money. This also looks fun as shit. You also like having people over and this bottling thing looks like quite a social occasion. You know what self?! You could do this!"
It was about then that I realized that I had been thinking out loud and was getting some funny looks, but that's a different story entirely.
On the same night, after the wine was bottled (and being unbottled one by one), we started a batch of beer. By "we", of course I mean "him", but I was pouring wine down my gullet while he was making beer, so we were practically on the same team. Beer, while being more complicated to make then wine, is still not as difficult as the uninitiated would first assume. Steep this, pour in that, boil that, mix it with this, then let it sit for a couple weeks pretty much sums up the bulk of it.
I love beer. If beer had a warm, wet hole, I would marry beer. I would have little beers with my beer and maybe in our old age we could have grand-beers to play with and keep us young. That being said, I want to make beer. I want to make wine. I'm also thinking it would be pretty cool to make a stove-top still out of a pressure cooker and some copper tubing, but that's getting ahead of myself.
I know that I won't exactly achieve the "low-cost" goal the first couple times round what with all the initial investment in equipment and ingredients (from here referred to as "precious reagents"). I also know that I am in no conceivable way the first (or one of the first) of my friends to dabble in this art, so if you have wisdom to pass on, feel free to do so now.
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3 DAYS | | Category: Booze Thursday, March 28th, 2002 @ 07:45 pm
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Two roads diverged in a wood...
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Ahh, the joys of a three day weekend. In the world of the nine-to-fiver, does such a wonderment compare? Of course not, but along with the joys comes much responsibility...
Well, not normally, but in my precarious position, I must judge wisely my actions of said "three day weekend". "How so?" you might ask. You see, I am on the precipice of full-blown alcoholism and as a working stiff, have shifted my vices to an according schedule. Yes, as you have read in previous posts, I do all my drinking on weekends as to not interfere with my work schedule. If you've ever woken up for work in a drunken stupor from the night before, you'll understand my situation all the more.
All of my debauchery takes place on the weekend, therefore, with Thursday not officially being a weekend and all, I am in what some would call a pickle. Do I enjoy said "three day weekend" to it's fullest, or do I stick to my stringent schedule of schluffing moral turpitude to the remaining days of the week in which I am not normally employed in some extent.
Well, I have to say, during the course of writing this article, I delved myself into the bottle in hopes of finding the one, pure truth. I have made my decision, and I hope you all can abide by it.
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WTFIT ISSUE #2 | | Category: Booze Tuesday, January 9th, 2001 @ 04:30 pm
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EXTRA FISTING, HOLD THE ELEPHANT FECES
Ahh, fisting, on of the more "mainstream" fetishes that I just don't get. Now I'm not going to go off on a rant about the usual "how could I compare after that" speech that you hear nine times out of ten from an opponent of this practice. What I don't understand is how people can stomach watching their partner's (or the object of their current pornography viewing's) vulva get stretched beyond the limits of human possibility. It reminds me of a band I was once in where all the singer did was scream. I always guessed he figured the harder he screamed, the better his singing would be because he was putting that much more effort into it. In the same line of thinking, I guess these people get turned on when a finger goes in a vagina, even more turned on when their fuckstick goes in, so the only natural progression of thought would be, "Hey, it would probably be REALLY hot if I crammed a large apendage up there!" I mean this sort of elasticity is supposed to be reserved for a few child births and an occasional DVDA, tops; not to mention I don't understand how their guts don't just drop out of their manhole when they stand up. As a sidenote, just read that pure state of spiritual zen on her face.
But this is WTFIT? and not an editorial on the subcultures of human sexuality, no matter
how perverse and base, so let's commence with the examination, mmkay?
Ok, if you're not color blind (and maybe if you are too, I really don't quite grasp the mechanics of color blindness), you will have noticed I've highlighted the object I have yet to identify. Now, when I first saw it, my knee-jerk reaction was to label it as a big, herky, nasty soft rubber dildo. Either that or Its a fetish I've never seen before: The Fisting-Buttcheeckgrabbing-ElephantTurd-On-The-Chest-Zen-Meditation Fetish. Truly the eight wonder of the natural world. Whatever it is, its beginning to disturb me, so I'm moving on.
I'M DRAWING A BLANK HERE
On first glance, I thought that was her cervix gleaming back at me like the beautiful, moist sphyncter it is. But upon further examination, like the title says, I drew a blank. Even still now I'm drawing a blank. Is it a jar or something? If so, what the fuck is going on with her clit? Ok, after looking closer, the metal debris around her clit is obviously rings (as in peircings), you can make out the little metal beads on them. This is a sort of relief to me, seeming as the first time I zoomed in I thought it was a mass of fishhooks going through her love button. What I still can't fathom is why they are up so high, and what the fuck is going on with her clit?
I see, the glare is playing a little trick with my eyes, that's actually the underside of her clit, so that clears that up, now we only have the surmise the origin of the "lodged" object. Well, actually we don't, there are no deadlines on these things, so I'm dropping this one now.
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