I’m in a thoughtful mood. Join me for a meander simultaneously personal and macrocosmic. All acheived andante. Herein, we will explore St. George, coincidences, Scotch and all manner of things between.
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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MMM. Just shelled out eight hundred dollars for some plumbing work and found out that there’s another significant portion of my house that’s water damaged. To those of you who have been here a while, you may recall that I recently dwelt in hotels for the span of about four months while the guest bathroom was entirely rebuilt.
This time it seems that my kitchen and perhaps my master bedroom will have to be rebuilt. The tile in the kitchen masked the problem…only tip off was the wee bit of wetness where the tile met the hallway carpet.
The former plumbers hadn’t mentioned any of this (aside general warnings about pinholes) and the fellas I had out here who are kinda a big deal in the area almost gave up the search for the leak. Apparently, my crawlspace is sheer noneucledian mysticism and full of daft HVAC ductwork.
Plumbing CIRCA 1977
Uncertain as to whether or not my insurance company will cover another large claim. But, I’m a positive Scotch infused fella and even if they don’t I’m sorta looking forward to learn how to do this shit myself.
I was raised by a senior citizen and never taught shit. So if I have to rebuild a major part of my home that gives me ample lisence to swing my dick around. I like to swing my dick around.
Pictured: Swinging Dick
Anywho, I haven’t the time or more honestly the inclination to create anything resembling worth so I leave you with links to some pretty badass articles I was going to try to fashion a ramble out of:
Computer Nerd Teaches You How To Live Brilliantly Without The Cliche Melodramas of The Absent Minded Professor
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
Too high class for regular Zazz?
Help Pizzaz up TFJ!