Category: Florida

  • This transmission is identified as C as in wiped with a Cloth

    This transmission is identified as C as in wiped with a Cloth

    This transmission is identified as C as in wiped with a Cloth.

    This transmission is identified as C as in wiped with a Cloth.

    This transmission is identified as C as in wiped with a Cloth.

    Do not tell Huma.

     

    “What in the hell is that?  A long, unidentifed, cigar shaped object in space?”  Director Abbaszhadeggadaddeghan asked.

    “That’s the best story we could come up with.  Honestly, we don’t really know what we’re dealing with.  It could just be a big rock.” His aide replied.

    “A room full of STEM majors and we have no better explanation for what is probably just a rock?  Why didn’t you just say it was a rock?”

    “We have reason to belive it is not a rock, sir.”

    “Who told you that?”  

    “I told him that.”

    Director Abbaszhadeggadaddeghan turned to see a man appear as if out of nowhere in the corner of his office.  He was wearing a cheap suit, typical of government types with a dingy white shirt and a black tie. He carried around a glass of what Abbaszhadeggadaddeghan assumed was whiskey with too much ice.  That is, it had ice in it.

    He was smoking profusely, and looked to be made out of poorly tanned leather wrapped loosely over a flabby body.  No explanation was given to how this lard ass got into the office without anybody noticing.

    “You see Achmed-in-ijad—“

    “Abbaszhadeggadaddeghan.  Director Abbaszhadeggadaddeghan.”  He interrupted.

    “Thats what I said.  Achmed-in-ijad.”

    “You said it wrong.”

    “You know what happened to the last diversity hire appointed as NASA Director, Achmed-in-ijad?  We found him in a puddle of puke and piss outside of Tijuana. Fun guy, but couldn’t handle his Russian hookers worth a damn.”  He took a drag of the cigarette. “I like you Achmed-in-ijad. I’d hate to see what the locals in Tampa will do to you. You may not eat pork, but let me tell you something—you taste like pork.”

    “What do you want?”  Abbaszhadeggadaddeghan asked.

    “I don’t really want anything but it was determined by my superiors it was time to let you know a bit of the story. But first a bit of background.”  He took a quick drink of this watered down whiskey and a long drag of the cigarette. He put it out on a ceramic icon on Abbaszhadeggadaddeghan’s desk.  He lit another cigarette. “In 1966, you were told Gemini 8 was stuck in an uncontrolllable spin, and—“

    “Because of the quick thinking of Neil Armstrong, Gemini 8 recovered from the spin, and landed safely back to Earth.”

    “You interrupt me again, I might take you to Tampa anyway.”  He said calmly. He took another long drag of the cigarette and with his free hand began to fondle his man breasts.  Abbaszhadeggadaddeghan couldn’t decide if he was sweating profusely under his jacket or lactating. Either way, his jacket was wet under the arms.  “Armstrong was thinking quick on his feet, but Gemini 8 was raped.”

    “Raped?”

    “You heard me.”

     

    This transmission is identified as C as in wiped with a Cloth.

    This transmission is identified as C as in wiped with a Cloth.

    This transmission is identified as C as in wiped with a Cloth.

    Do not tell Huma.

     

    “This happened again in 1970, when the command module of Apollo 13 was raped six minutes after the crew filmed their public address.  That’s why it wasn’t aired to the public.” He took another drag of the cigarette and again put it out on the ceramic idol.  “And even the details of recent missions, you’ve been told are, simply put. Wrong.”

    The man walked closer to Abbaszhadeggadaddeghan.  Close enough for the smell of boiled leeks, bad whiskey, American Spirit lights, spoiled milk, fried okra and the distinctive stench of bad sex the morning after with a half drunken hangover, to invade Abbaszhadeggadaddeghan’s moist, delicate nasal passages.

    “Don’t wince at me because I smell like that broad you tagged, gagged and bagged back an MIT, Achmed-in-ijad.”  He composed himself, slightly adjusting his crotch.  “Just a few weeks ago, you thought, the Hubble Telescope was flipped off and on really fast to reset the onboard software.  NASA even put it out to the press because they thought it was funny.

    But it wasn’t funny for the ISS crew.” He pulled out a 1980s era tape recorder and firmly pressed play.

     

    This transmission is identified as C as in wiped with a Cloth.

    This transmission is identified as C as in wiped with a Cloth.

    This transmission is identified as C as in wiped with a Cloth.

    Do not tell Huma.

     

    “EVA 1,  did you hit the unit?”

    “Roger that Houston.  Unit given a good hard kick.”

    “Roger that EVA 1, unit appears to have come back online.  Good work EVA 1”

    “Houston, we’re getting some kind of interference…you picking this up Houston? Some kind of transmission from a Smith?”

    “SPACE SMITH FIX FLYING METAL BALL!  BY FIX, MEAN RAPE”

    “Houston…”

    “SUPPORT WAZ COMPLETELY CONSENSUAL.  SPACE SMITH SEND YOU BILL FOR TECHNICAL SERVICES”

    “This is horrible.  Houston, do you copy?”

    “Ahhhhh. Who let this thing in the maintenance bay?”

    “SPACE SMITH NO COPY,  HIM HAVE ORIGINAL MOVES.  BY ORIGINAL MOVES…MEAN RAPE”

    “Houston, we are sealing off the maintenance bay.  Houston, do you copy?”

    “IN SPACE, NO ONE CAN HEAR YOU RAPE”

    “Houston, maintenance bay breached!”

    “THAT NOT ALL THAT BE BREACH.  SPACE SMITH BREACH EVERYTHING HIM REACH”

    “Houston, we are initiating Soyuz escape pod checklist.”

    “SPACE SMITH RAPE SOYUZ LAST WEEK.  IT NO FLY”

     

    This transmission is identified as C as in wiped with a Cloth.

    This transmission is identified as C as in wiped with a Cloth.

    This transmission is identified as C as in wiped with a Cloth.

    Do not tell Huma.

     

    Abbaszhadeggadaddeghan’s blood ran cold.  

    “What is that object in space?”  He asked.

    “We don’t really know, Achmed-in-ijad.”  The man said before blowing smoke in his face.  “We just call it SPACE SMITH.”  He took one last drag.  “I can’t wait to see what he does to Elon Musk.”

  • BIF Review:  Florida Beer

    BIF Review: Florida Beer

    TL;DR:  these beers are all of high quality, and very true to type.  If you like a particular style of beer, you will like these versions of that style.

    Omphtaloskepsis begins now:

    This box of goodies was a very nice gift, and like all good gifts, it says something.  It says something about the recipient (I like beer) it says something about the relationship between the parties (we like beer), but what does it say about Florida Man?  Rather a lot, and rather surprising revelations to me, who only knows FM from his meth-and-gator insights and his flirtations with Jesse.

    These beers are all very disciplined.  While it’s fun to think of Florida as the home of funny headlines and Burn Notice, it’s beers like this that reminds you that it’s also the home of the House of Mouse.  At every brewery tour I’ve ever been to, someone in the tour group makes some comment about how megabrews suck, and the tour guide always responds with some variant of “They are great brewers, it takes a lot of skill to make a beer with so little taste and no way of hiding flaws.”  Well, these beers are like that — not because they have no taste, but because (with one exception) the tasting experience is perfectly consistent across time and tongue.  Any off notes would be very easy to notice, and they aren’t here.  I actually find this a little disconcerting, as my favorite genre (Trappist ales) has tons and tons of different things with the flavor in flux from the first sip to the swallow.  You can hide mistakes in that.  And while I only got one can of each, I’m completely willing to believe that the quality control at these FL breweries are much better than I get when drinking the Belgians (though to be fair, there is a lot more room for variation when stuff gets shipped across the Atlantic).  The other thing about these beers is they are exactly what is on the label.  No “well, it’s kinda sweet, so maybe we’ll call it a porter?”  Other people with more knowledge than I have may disagree, but as far as I can tell, the typicality of these ranges from “textbook” to “would win best in breed at Westminster.”

    So what beers did Florida Man send me?  These beers:

    Funky Buddha “Floridian Wheat Hefeweizen” – orangeish yellow, mildly sweet, citrus aftertaste.  Great with pizza.  Somewhat light-bodied for an unfiltered type.  I give it: three beers out of a six-pack.

    3 Daughters Brewing “St. Pete Beach Blonde Ale” – pale yellow, cloudy, headless.  An odd scent, presumable from some sort of yeast of which I am unfamiliar.  The taste is pleasant, sweet, and a little hoppy, with a buttery aftertaste.  I give it:  thirteen out of twenty-five wafers in a FOUP.

    3 Daughters Brewing “Rod Bender Red Ale” – I likes me some red ales, and I likes the heck out of this one.  More russet than red, with a malty and yeasty nose, this is one of the beers you should pull out when someone says “balanced malt and hops” to show them one that actually does this.  As good as the beer is, I’m wondering about the brewery name.  3 Daughters?  Isn’t every woman a daughter, kind of by definition?  Why not “3 Chicks Brewing?”  I give it:  17 /19 prime numbers.

    Tampa Bay Brewing Co.  “Last Days of Summer Fruited Sour Ale” – This is one of the ones I can’t verify is true to type, due to my lack of experience.  All the sours I’ve had up till now (which has been three I think) have been very tart.  This one isn’t.  You might call it subtle.  When you pour it, it looks like Natty Light, when you smell it it smells like peaches and hops. When you taste it though, it  is neither.  It’s very mildly tangy, and like other sours and fruited lambics, completely un-beery.  If I were to try and bring a fruited sour to the Japanese market, it would be this one. I give it e / pi transcendental numbers.

    J. Dubs Brewing Co. “Bell Cow Milk Chocolate Porter” – It’s chocolate. Dark brown, chocolate nose, chocolate taste.  I like chocolate.  I like this beer, rather a lot.  But because they are cramming actual chocolate into this, there’s room to hide mistakes in brewing.  So I can’t claim that this is as high quality of the rest here, but I can claim it’s yummy.  I give it: 4.5 / 5 Kit-Kat bars.

    Crooked Can Brewing Co. “Mr. Tractor Kolch” – Someone who is an actual expert needs to drink one of these so they can explain something to me.  People keep equating “bitter” with “hops,” so when I say “I don’t particularly care for IPAs,” that gets translated to “I don’t like bitter beers” which is not true.  This beer has a definite hard stop of bitterness to it, which while I don’t think necessarily adds to this particular beer, isn’t a flaw or off-putting to me.  What it does NOT have is a flavor equivalent to its nose, which is what I think of as “hops,” a resinous herbal scent (and in other beers, flavor).  I can only assume that there are some hops which impart a more bitter taste ,and other cultivars that impart a Pine-Sol taste.  It would be good to have an actual beer person either confirm this or explain the difference between this beer’s bitterness and an IPA’s “I am drinking a lumberyard.” (Note to self: name my brewery’s IPA “Hoppy Ending.”  Put a picture of an Asian girl in a bikini top on the label.)  Anyway, if you offer someone a beer, and they say “yes,” and then you ask “what kind?” and they say “I dunno.  A beer.” Then you should give them this one.  I give it 55 / 88 degrees Fahrenheit.

    Florida Avenue Brewing Co. “Brown Ale” –  Brown. Dense head.  Nose of roasted malt and hops.  Toasty, caramel, really good, buttery aftertaste. lighter body than most.  An excellent candidate to be my everyday beer.  I give it:  77 / 99 bottles of beer on the wall.

    Bold City Brewery “Killer Whale cream ale” – Pale yellow, minimal head, smells like high school. Taste is subtle, muted, sweet.  I give it: 90 / 165 beers in a keg

    Cigar City Brewing “Florida Cracker Belgian-Style White Ale” – Yellow, hazy, thick head, little smell, lightly fruity.  It’s a Belgian White.  I give it: 2 / 3 orange peels

    *About the numeric scores — the Venn diagram of “thing that are good” and “things that I like” does not perfectly overlap.  The scores are how much I like them, not of “how good” they are.  These are all quite good, high-quality beers.  Also, I am totally not ripping off a particular movie reviewer’s shtick, I am trying to make it a meme.

     

  • Thursday Afternoon Links

    Artist’s rendition of BrettL hopped up on Bathsaltz and Florida sunshine

    Hey guys, it’s Thursday and Brett is either high on bathsaltz, covered in bacon fat and wrasslin’ gators or in some kind of very dull workplace meeting (your imagination knows best), so I’m filling in today. All links are safe for work, so feel free to you know, click through and then make salient comments about them.

    • Florida oysters viciously murder 71-year-old man. You knew it wasn’t safe to swim in Florida water with open wounds, but you apparently also shouldn’t eat the shellfish while vaguely immunocompromised. VISIT FLORIDA TODAY!
    • We all know that those dastardly Millenials are killing everything from industrial beer production to fabric softener, but what will they be responsible for killing next? Themselves, apparently: A Spike In Liver Disease Deaths Among Young Adults Fueled By Alcohol. Drink up, me hearties, yo ho!
    • I’m guessing you guys are just as into the fringiest Christian eschatology of (repeatedly proven) false prophets/straw-grasper Rabbi Jonathan Cahn and opportunistic asshole John Hagee as I am, so I’ll give you a heads up that a BLOOD MOON (or for the less dramatic: lunar eclipse) is happening soon and it’ll be the longest in the last century. Look to the heavens the night of 07/27 if it’s visible in your area and the weather is good, for the four horsemen will totally be coming this time.
    • Out of respect for/fear of one of the most powerful of us, I will not label this story but will only mention that those who like things trapped in amber, or issues of a herpatological nature might find the story interesting.
    • Speaking of herps, hackers may have the latest results from your HSV1/2 test Hackers Breach Network of LabCorp, US’ Biggest Blood Testing Laboratories, so you may want to engage in some proactive radical honesty with your sex partner(s). Currently the intrusion seems like it was contained and no confidential information was accessed, but that’s always how these things start and then it’s Russians reading your emails and making fun of your use of comic sans. Just be glad those doofy Chevy HHRs aren’t autonomous…yet
    • For the nerds among us…I assume that’s most of you: CNET’s 2018 SDCC roundup. I know you’re all nerds in your unique and meaningful ways and I’m not going to enact your labor if I don’t have to.

    Huh, I’m being told that not including a music link is a grievous sin. I’ll let this raccoon DJ some background jams for you while you curate your tittaaaays and whatnot.

  • Afternoon Links

    Friends! It has been so long. Brett is in a post-apocalyptic wasteland and his second through fourth string replacements are working (yes, Rufus, some of us work). So you get some slap-dash, last-minute links from me:

    Florida legislature! “Florida House declares pornography as a health risk: Republican Rep. Ross Spano says there is research that finds a connection between pornography use and mental and physical illnesses.” Republicans are apparently aiming to be the party of science now. Good for them.

    Now here’s some science. “Drinking Alcohol Helps Better Than Exercise If You Want To Live Past 90 Years Old” Guess what, we at Glibertarians don’t care if this is good science or not. 건배!!

    Rejoice! He’s in a far better place than this. “Billy Graham, preacher to millions, adviser to U.S. presidents, dies at 99”

    Time to sit your boss down and have The Talk.  “Phishing schemes net hackers millions of dollars from Fortune 500: IBM has uncovered sophisticated campaigns which are successfully targeting Fortune 500 companies.”

  • Florida Man Episodes — Anniversary

    The ceremony to placate the Skunk Ape and keep the rapey cousin of STEVE SMITH raping anyone besides Florida Man was off to a rocky start. One of his minions had decided it was a good idea to give blood and go drinking before capturing the three key deer (one buck and two does) that every in-the-know Florida Man knows will keep the lesser rape-ape away. FM had planned to take a sail around the Caribbean and take his chances with SEA SMITH, even going so far as to bring in help from outside of the great state of Florida. But that didn’t work out, either.  Now, there was only one way to be safe. It was obvious to Florida Man that he would have to fall back and petition ZARDOZ, who he knew to have some substance abuse problems, to  go to STEVE SMITH directly. Florida Man decidedly did not want to gain the attention of a giant flying head that thought FM’s favorite organ was evil, but… hey. Guns were fun to shoot, and FM knew plenty of brutals.

    FM started out his petition in a way crafted to get ZARDOZ’s attention:

    Dear Prudence,

    I am afraid that the Skunk Ape will come and rape me. I tried to give the traditional offering, but was unable to do so. Can you please tell me how to keep my rectum in some sort of shape other than “gang raped to death”. I have plenty of brutals and plenty of guns.

    Sincerely,

    Florida Man

    Florida Man may have left out some details. An angry voodoo priest with a discriminatory attitude towards Puerto Ricans. Some previous predation by Skunk Ape. It also appeared that maybe some of FM’s minions might have had, er, less than completely voluntary intercourse with some monkeys who worshiped Skunk Ape in their own fashion. Although, to FM’s way of thinking, the aggressive herpes simplex that resulted from those couplings should be its own punishment. Those were not important. What was really important was not having to have his rectum reconstructed by some guy who did two years of veterinary training at Southeast Hispaniola Junior College. Which, not to insult residents of the island of Hispaniola, is not exactly like getting it redone by the guy who does the asshole tightening on wealthy South Beach clients who are into that stuff. Florida Man might once have insulted that man’s work and been overheard.