So…is this where angel dust comes from? Who is the patron saint of handi-wipes?
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Category Archives: Weird
photo o’ the day: Cabazon Floyd
I knew there was a reason Chihuahuas scare me. Now, at last, is revealed the great secret, kept for two million years.
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if I had a hammer…I’d make a cocktail
I understand that not everyone keeps their hammer in their kitchen to facilitate the production of mojitos and manhattans, but more people should.
Except the people who live directly above me, that is.
It is a fact universally acknowledged that a single woman in possession of an uncracked bottle of fine Havana Club Anejo Blanco rum must be in search of a mojito.
Which is where the hammer comes in.
Please don’t labour under the misapprehension that all Communist symbols are dour, utilitarian objects. No, indeedy. Why, ask any druid about the many, merry uses of the sickle. And we here at the ol’ raincoaster blog have our own uses for the hammer which include, as stated above, solidarity exercises with our Cuban Comrades.
So…the hammer is under the sink and all is well with the world. To make a mojito I take the hammer out, take two plastic bags, dump an ice-cube tray’s worth of, yes, ice cubes, into the double-bagged apparatus, and proceed to smash the hell out of it against the concrete floor of the apartment. Since it used to be a parking garage, I figure it can handle the abuse, and since there’s nothing downstairs but a few Acuras and Kias, I figure nobody is going to whine to the manager. And the ice gets nicely crushed and the cocktails get nicely made.
I actually have an official ice crusher, but since it’s a retro-Seventies model made out of cheap plastic and tin, it doesn’t function except as a visual reminder of the heyday of Playboy. So I keep it in the box next to the dusty Margarita glasses (I haven’t been able to afford tequila since the great Agave Plague of 2004).
Coming next week: where the electric drill comes into it…
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quiz: how weird are you?
Really, am I alone in finding this a little low?
You Are 64% Weirdo |
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You simply see things very differently. So you live your life in a very unusual way. Who cares if you don’t fit in? Just remember to embrace your inner weirdo… because there’s no hiding it. |
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Beer! In! Spaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaace!
Hot on the (slightly wobbly) heels of tales of drunken astronauts at the controls of the Space Shuttle comes a delightfully scientific report on the theory and practice of, yes,
Beer! In! SPAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACE!!!
…Graduate student Kirsten Sterrett at the University of Colorado in the US wrote a thesis on fermentation in space, with support from US beer behemoth Coors. She sent a miniature brewing kit into orbit aboard a space shuttle several years ago and produced a few sips of beer. She later sampled the space brew, but because of chemicals in and near it from her analysis, it didn’t taste great by the time she tried it.
Did anyone else note that, had it tasted good, it would have been the first beverage produced by Coors that ever did.
But there are drawbacks. Despite advantages like no lanes in space and not much to run into, turns out there are some compelling reasons not to chug your Spud in orbit.
Unfortunately for thirsty astronauts, beer is poorly suited to space consumption because of the gas it includes. Without gravity to draw liquids to the bottoms of their stomachs, leaving gases at the top, astronauts tend to produce wet burps.
On the upside, although in the oxygen-enriched atmosphere astronauts cannot partake of beer bongs, they can, thanks to advanced and high-priority Dutch research, partake of beer balls.
I once dated a guy who had beer balls, or so he tried to tell me in the backseat of his father’s Caddy.
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raincoaster 