Mobilogging

This will be a short but sweet return to this blog o mine. I found this jar in the fridge at work. I’m pretty sure somebody is keeping milk in it…

Are you kidding me?

 

Mein Kampf: an adventure in beer brewing

I have recently realized a dream of mine since I first started drinking beer; I’ve crafted my very own homebrew. According to the kit it’s a Dortmunder, a Pilsner from the Dortmund region of Germany (hence the Hitler-esque post title). Last night, my hard work finally paid off, and I was able to taste this beautiful creation. Lustrous amber color, creamy head, good mouth feel, clean finish, and a potent alcohol content. All around a fine brew.

Naturally, I documented the entire process from start to finish. Please enjoy this admittedly macro-heavy photo collection of my brewmeistering endeavour.

The brave ingredients who gave their lives for a bigger cause

Grain Sac

Grain sac excretions

added the malt and the hops, the smell was splendid

rapid cooling

preparing the bottles

bustin' caps

And time passed on…

…until yesterday, when the fruits of my labor could be enjoyed.

There she is...

she's a heady gal

good to the last drop.

Well that’s that; my struggle, my satisfaction, my beer.

I plan to share the joy of this pretty lady with those near and dear to me. so be on the lookout for a sampling session.

 

Flashdance

I was messing around with Adobe Flash and created this. It plays twice for some reason, but it’s probably for the best, there’s a lot to take in.

The beer brewing is off to a good start, more on that later, maybe even later tonite.

 

Rubber Baby Dopplebock

Here’s an early Christmas present for y’all ass. It’s like taking all of the best scenes and music from Tarantino’s movies, brewing them together in a boiling pot with barley, hops and black tar heroin, and then injecting that into your eyes and ears. At least this is what I imagine that would be like.

Tomorrow (later today), I  begin my first adventure in home brewing. Contrary to the post title, it’s not going to be a dopplebock,  but a dortmunder which is a pilsner. Hopefully I’ll know what the hell I’m talking about by the time this is all over.

 

The Hunt for Green November

I’m tired of employers saying that they require a certain amount of experience for an applicant to be considered for a job. I feel that I can be trained to do literally any job. Sure you must allow for a grace period of a couple weeks where I’d be completely out of my element, but that’s the same for everybody. No matter how much experience one has, humans will still make mistakes. Look at this guy.

All I know is that the job hunt is making me weary. I wish it were more like Jurassic Park, and the jobs would hunt me.

I think I’ll start a hot dog cart.

 

Layin down some poem-town

I am so damn bored
Maybe I’ll write a haiku
This one’s over now

I search night and day
Hunting for the perfect pet
I think I’ve found it

 

There once was a man with no job,
And all night he’d stay up and sob.
His future was murky,
So he ventured to Turkey,
And now he eats only Kabob.

There once was a bird from the nest.
She was much more odd than the rest.
She flew like an eagle,
Could bark like a beagle,
And on Mondays wore only a vest.

 

Kenny Bloggins

Sup y’all

I just thought I’d put this video on here because it’s the best.

Good thing this guy wasn’t using car wash soap on that slide, or else he woulda been pissin sideways with bleeding nips for a couple days.

I’ve been pretty pathetic on this thing lately; nonexistent really, but some times there are more important things in life than blogging.

I’m gonna go find a hill, do some math, and try my damndest not to kill myself in the process of replicating this man’s success.

 

The Elusive Ninja of Holt, MI

Haven’t mentioned this on the internet yet, but I have an internship in Holt, MI for Meridian Entertainment Group.

s’pretty nice.

On my way down there one monday, wednesday or friday morning, I came across this gem…

try our martiar arts, we have a very crever jokes

Unbeknown to the average Lansing area resident, there is an elite force of ninjas massing in Holt. It isn’t clear why they chose to set up shop in the gooch of Lansing, but they are here regardless.  Being that I have virtually no defense against a ninja attack on my way to or from work, it’s clear that I must join them. By slowly working my way up through middle management at Original Okinawan Karate, I will gain access to the “employee entrance” and consequently, access to the ninja lair.

My boss at Meridian is a ninja of sorts.  Bradford Coombs. This man has been in the music industry since they cut the umbilical cord. He knows just about everyone you could care to know and has a brain full of stories that he will gladly share with you. Just the other day he was spinning Miles and I quite the yarn about Eddie Money.  This was a while ago, (I assume the 80’s for soon to be obvious reasons) and Brad was trying to get Eddie out of his trailer to get ready for the show.  Eddie’s tour manager strolls out of the trailer and says that Eddie is going to leave unless somebody can get him an ounce of coke within the hour. This sounds like a job for Jack Bauer, but Bradford was up the task. He made some calls and found Eddie two tickets to paradise. Eddie then snorted one of the tickets and gave the other to his crew, leaving them all shakin’ before the show.

Nice work, Brad.

The show must go on, indeed.

 

Memorial Day and people I hate

Here I sit, all broken-hearted,

called off work and nearly sharted.

Actually, I’m not broken-hearted at all because Cosi just gave me the best gift a boy could ask for — the day off of work and the beginning to my weekend-long celebration of our nation’s memorials. Memorial Day for the lamens.

A brief note on sharting:

Having it happen once in your life is one time too many.  Just saying, I wouldn’t wish my digestive tract on my 2 worst enemies(see figures 1 and 2)

Figure 1: I can't believe Murphy got the promotion, he can't even feed himself.

Figure 2: Fucking Bono.

Back to what I was saying about work. Turns out people like spending $8 on a sandwich even less in the summertime. This is the second time this week that I’ve been straight up told not to come in.  It’s bittersweet really. On one hand, I have the entire weekend to do as I will, but at the same time, I’ll be missing out on hearing about every trivial problem faced by some of the most annoying people you can spend 4 hours with.

So on this Memorial Day, I will enjoy the sweet taste of grilled meat tubes a little bit more, and I suggest you do the same. Summer is knocking ladies and gentlemen, let’s invite her in for some drinks and dogs and have our way with her.

Word to your moms, I’m bout to drop bombs,

but nothing like what we dropped on saddam.

I’m talkin’ bout poops y’all.

 

Back up in your ass with the resurrection

First of all, it’s good to back on the blogosphere, what’s up internets.

Today is off to a good start. Having finished two papers, revised 4 others and applied for a job, all within a matter of a couple hours, I felt the need to treat myself to some lunch, or should I say runch?

After cruising grand river for an eating establishment, I settled at “Teriaki and Gyro,” serving the finest asian and greek foods in the greater lansing area.  This was my first time visiting, so I had to take some time to soak in the atmosphere. As I purused the menu, I saw that they serve almost exclusively teriaki and gyros, with the exception of the sushi menu, which included an ‘abocado roll’ and an ‘oriental drink.’

nice.

When two asian individuals stepped out from the back, I decided to go with the chicken teriaki as opposed to the gyro, for obvious reasons. While the lady is preparing my food, ‘John’ is busy trying to ring me up. John, who I’m sure is a seasoned pro when it comes to handling transactions, was no match for my worn down debit card. After swiping it 20 times and eventually punching in the numbers, he looks at me and says,

“jip a cargs?”

I think to myself, “pin number?”

he repeats “jip a cargs” about 5 more times before beckoning me over to the machine.

“oh, zip code” I say. So i type it in and assume that all is well.

John spends the next 5 minutes pressing buttons and picking up and hanging up the telephone. He eventually hands me my card and simply says, “next time.” Now that, I understood. I grabbed my food from the lady, smiled at John and made my way back home to enjoy my free meal.

The moral here is that sometimes it pays to try new things, especially when the owners don’t speak english.