Plumbing woes have me making yet another disjointed vlog of vlogness. Herein you’ll find minutia from my life, defending the merits of Korean gals, Germany’s kinky stance on Romanian labor, discovering a Southern Yup Magazine, a random ass passage from Russell, and amateur god damn music.
Yeeha.
Vee’s Excellent Explanation of Corporate Bullshit and East European Subservience –
Ebegging Because Scotch is Expensive
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So, I’m currently holding the wee bit of left bollock that hasn’t retreated up my abdomen with the rest of the kit. A feat courtesy of hearing that my shift starts at 4:15 AM. As such I can’t bring you the regularly scheduled joy of disjointed rambles that would make a a schizophrenic shaman on a peyote bender seem like a card carrying Presbyterian freemason. (Yes, I stole that last bit from Billy Connoly.)
Therefore I share with you my gleeful joy in confirming that FATTIES ARE MOST AFFECTED. If you’re a jolly person of size. No beef with you. If you have a glandular problem. I’ve no donut with you. If you just don’t give a fuck. I’ve no quarter pounder with you. Yes, this is the shittiest joke of all time. Welcome to history cunts.
No, the thing I have a problem with is moralizing fatasses wagging wingers (lol that was a typo but imagonnakeepit) at folk exercising because of a HEALTH CRISIS.
While I did fix the audio problem…(it’s now in stereo)
I still dunno why I can’t get Premiere to export my pictures in the original resolution:
Yes, I read from a script today for the most part. I’m a bit too tired these days to do unscripted stuff all of the time.
Here it is for those who’d prefer to read:
Yes, that’s wonderful. Took a ride round town come evening time. There is something magical in these cool Carolina nights.
I must remark on the immense psychological benefit of exposure. How essential it is to appreciating the comforts of hearth and home.
With all the wonderful amenities that modern living provides us indoors venturing out is sometimes difficult. Sucking you in like a well worn couch.
A couch whose magic is both created and ruined by overuse.
That’s why tonight’s little expedition was so exhilarating. The exercise, and the mild thrill of the dark corners of that one wooded dirt road in the back of a neighborhood that I used to live in, these provided the contrast to the fiery comfort of Scotch and high speed internet that I so desperately needed.
I really think there is a deeper phenomenon here than suburban malaise. I think that a lot of our modern psychological problems can be attributed to our ignoring the ancient need to range.
So, I’ve replenished my whiskey till next weekend rolls around. This time instead of the Founder’s Reserve I have the Glenlivet 12 which is aged in double oak barrels. The clerk that sold it to me also recommended an American single malt from Virginia but it was about 70 dollars for 750 mL if I recall correctly. Too much for my purse.
Also, I am a bit suspicious of any sort of American brewing or distilling. While there are lots of great American whiskeys and beers there’s a corner cutting in production that I’m not a fan of. Traditions like Reinheitsgebot help to curb US style capitalistic exuberance in Europe.
I’m not sure if the whiskey the clerk recommended is guilty of anything that I found in the article I’m about to read from but the general information does confirm the wisdom of my snobbery.
From whiskyadvocate.com:
“In Scotland, malt whisky is always made using 100% malted barley. In the U.S. many malt whiskeys (especially those labeled “single malt”) are made with 100% malted barley as well. But they don’t have to be: U.S. regulations stipulate that malt whiskey is only required to have a minimum of 51% malted barley in the mashbill.
Like bourbon and rye, the maximum proofs for distillation and barrel entry for American malt whiskey are 160 and 125, respectively. Additionally, it must be stored in new, charred oak barrels. Therefore, American malt whiskeys are closer kissing cousins to bourbon and American rye than they are to scotch single malts.”
I’ve only recently begun my whisky journey and will update everybody on my findings as I progress. Corrections and suggestions are encouraged.
Now back to waxing poetic about the merits of Carolina evenings. One thing that I found particularly catalytic for stirring vague sentiments of an eternal tapestry is being in places at the same time of day as I was when I had formative or otherwise grand experiences.
A relationship some half decade distant now had found me in an old style home with a lover, an old style home which was very reminiscent of the sort I dwelt in when I first came to the States, an old style home whose small but cozy glowing interior mixed so tidily with the night outside the kitchen door.
There were cigarettes and gin and the sense that I was stringing along some kind of coherency in these old dwellings. That dirty blond hair with just a hint of reddish hue was such a vibrant thing. So full of fresg life among this venerable bit of American.
She did say a lot of stupid shit though.
Let’s turn to less local affairs and read about a newly found exoplanet.
This article is from mysteriousuniverse.org, and is written by Jocelyn LeBlanc, let’s begin…
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Not Just Zazz…but Pizzazz
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Ugh, can’t get a handle on Premiere Pro. Not only is it mono again…but the graphics look like shite. (Been using Kdenlive thus far. And will use both in future.)
Today I take on: ‘the skeptic’s perspective’ on David Paulides‘ investigations of mysterious disappearances in our National Parks.
Today’s daily variety includes the health benefits of whiskey, the first recorded use of the word ‘Fuck,’ and assorted rambles on everything from Trump’s books to Bigfoot.
Since, I got my ass handed to me at UPS today and didn’t wake up till four fucking PM here’s some thoughts that I guess qualify as content:
Hah. Yeah, but who eggs em on. Who whispers in their ear that Bruno over there gave em a pat on the ass?
If Helen’s face launched a thousand ships couldn’t her mouth have stopped it?
Do women go for poets with an English garden or are they jumping labia first into the beds of thugs no matter if it’s Patton or El Chapo. So long as they’re sufficiently ‘decisive.’
Most men want adventure not war. It just so happens that war is one of the ultimate adventures. And it comes with the most enthusiastic cheerleaders.
Let’s you n him fight!
Note: Fred has provided me with countless hours of joy and insight so I’ll forgive the shallowness of this polemic.
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Not Just Zazz…but Pizzazz
Too high class for regular Zazz?
Help Pizzaz up TFJ!
If Helen’s face launched a thousand ships couldn’t her mouth have stopped it?
Do women go for poets with an English garden or are they jumping labia first into the beds of thugs no matter if it’s Patton or El Chapo. So long as they’re sufficiently ‘decisive.’
Most men want adventure not war. It just so happens that war is one of the ultimate adventures. And it comes with the most enthusiastic cheerleaders.
Let’s you n him fight!
Note:
Fred has provided me with countless hours of joy and insight so I’ll forgive the shallowness of this polemic.
Support the Journal
Make a donation via PayPal to help zazz things up.
$1.00
Not Just Zazz…but Pizzazz
Too high class for regular Zazz? Help Pizzaz up TFJ!
$5.00