Bob Ross Kind of Green

I stare at my slumping basil plant with a look of forlorn. How I long to have a green thumb. It could be any shade of green, really. I’m not looking for something bright and vivid that would indicate that I could single-handedly save the diminishing rain forests of the world.

I would take a dull, muted, muddy green that says, “Hey! Water and soil good! Bugs and frost bad!” Instead, my thumb has a sad, crying face that is void of any color that could possibly resemble that of vegetation.

Three basil plants have ceased their days of photosynthesis at my hands. The first was a large, flourishing beauty. It was a gift and I loved it. I loved how it made the apartment smell. I loved cooking with it. I loved how it made me feel so Emeril-like. BAM! Basil! But then, one day, thinking that it needed some sun, I left it outside overnight – in the middle of a frigid winter. The sun from that day didn’t save it from the frost of that night. Like a scantily dressed hooker in a New York alley way, it froze to death. Deader than dead.

Basil plant number two. I clutched a tiny packet of seeds from Target as though they would help me wash my hands of the murder I had brutally performed. However, they barely peeked from the soil in the pink solo cups in which I had planted them. DVDs and Legos = things to buy at Target. Seeds from the $1 Spot = Things you should completely overlook. I would have had more luck by planting a Snickers in hopes of sprouting a candy tree.

Basil plant number three. A full grown plant from the grocery store – minus a little pot for its bare roots. I took it out of its wrapping and set it in one of my bourbon glasses with a little water. I had full intention of buying soil and giving it some tender, sweet lovin’. However, I was distracted by various shiny objects, bright lights, video games and liquor. My once hearty aromatic shrank and shriveled into yet another failure. I’m fairly certain that all Italian herbs tremble at my very name – I am the Anti-Christ of gardening.

Sadly, even a cactus is currently gasping for its last breath. Lately, I’ve contemplated going for a Chia Pet. I do enjoy how they make everything look like a tribute to the late, great Bob Ross.

Childhood Racism

I love cartoons. There are about three genres of television that I watch on a regular basis: the news, history shows and cartoons. Since I feel that cartoons have been in my life longer than the other two, I’m naturally going to be slightly biased. Hey, if you’re going to watch Fox News then I’m going to watch Nickelodeon. Don’t judge me lest I break your remote control.

I do wish they made cartoons the way they used to. I hate those kinds of statements because they’re the ones that I used to roll my eyes at when I was a kid. Now, I am enlightened and slightly aged like the finest of wines. I’m not that classy though, so let’s switch that to bourbon. Bourbon and cartoons – my God, I’m sophisticated.

But seriously, cartoons now are for pussies. Where’s the racism? Where’s the violence? Why the fuck is everything Japanese-esqe? Awful, just awful. Old Looney Toons cartoons where the best. I used to have VHS tapes of the old WWII shows. Daffy as Hitler. Bugs Bunny, along with the little gremlins, unknowingly aiding the destruction of U.S. fighter planes. Stereotypes left and right that took on the Jews, Germans, Japanese, Blacks and more. They actually did a jazz remake of Snow White with the characters in black face. Now, before you gasp and scold me for finding this offensive material funny – historians often defend this cartoon as one of the best ever made. After all, it reflects the cultural differences of the early part of the 20^th century to now. History folks, history.

De Sebben?! Your lack of shame brings me laughs.

Where are these cartoons now? – cancelled. Locked in a vault or stored within the Ark of the Covenant. Can you believe that they stopped showing Speedy Gonzales cartoons because it offended Mexicans? I am Mexican and I loved him! No one can take a joke these days. I’m willing to bet that if I took a picture of a Mexican eating a taco and posted it on the internet I would have the racism card slapped in my face faster than my mom could finish that taco.

Okay, so let’s remove the racism for a moment. Looney Toons still had others flaws. My biggest issue: Taz the Tasmanian Devil. He looks absolutely nothing like the little devil from Tasmania. Bugs Bunny clearly looks like a rabbit. Porky Pig is undoubtedly a pig. Foghorn Leghorn is a giant rooster – although, unlike those previously stated, his name does not reflect his animal origin (this also annoys me). But Taz looks nothing like the real life animal he is meant to represent.

Perhaps there is a reason behind this. If there is, I might actually know the answer. It may be because a real honest- to-goodness Tasmanian devil is fucking atrocious. A Tasmanian devil seems to be the strange hybrid of a dog, a cat and a rat. That is a trifecta of natural enemies. God does have a sense of humor. The sound they make is a blood-curling screech. And, I have read, they smell “pungent” which is nice way of saying “smells like shit.” The best they could do with the cartoon representation is have him spin around like a drunkard who has discovered Crystal Meth, give him a caveman-like speech impediment and have him drool like a geriatric on the way out the door. Taz the Tasmanian Devil is a failure in my eyes.

Maybe Taz just had a lot of work done.

So, the moral of this story is that I can deal with racism as a form of humor. However, a poor exemplification of a member of the animal kingdom – I’m out folks. Oh, you think there’s something wrong with my point of view? Fine. Then keep taking your kids to Disney World, you anti-Semite and tell Mr. Gibson I said shalom.

The right writer for the job.

I got a "job." The quotations will drop as soon as I get the tax forms to fill out. Then it becomes a JOOOOOOOOOOOBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB. See how much more intense that is?


It's a little copy writing gig for a small company based out of Pittsburgh. I was skeptical at first:

1) Because it's in Pittsburgh and I don't trust a town that is represented by professional athlete known for multiple attempts at rape/sexual assault. I make sure I put the multiple in there because if I didn't I'm sure I would have to steer clear of most major U.S. cities.

and

2) They specifically asked me to NOT send in my resume. Instead, they wanted a creative "cover letter" that would catch their attention.

I was almost offended by that request. So, the subject of my email stated how I didn't want to send them my resume anyway. I continued on in the body of my email/cover letter how I was impressed with my resume and they didn't deserve to read it. I also told them that my degree hung on my wall like the head of a prized woodland creature. That statement is false and misleading for two reasons- my degree is NOT hanging because I can't afford to frame it and I hate hunting.

Apparently they liked the abuse I dished them because they hired me. This is when I realized that the company was run by women, because women love that tough love shit. I can say this without being sexist because I'm a woman... and I'm kidding of course. Kind of.

Now, the interesting stuff. My first assignment is to re-write multiple pages of a hunting website. Again I mention, I don't hunt. Of course I started off taking the subject matter very seriously. However, that's not the kind of writer I am. So, on a tirade I started writing things like:

Welcome to -----------.com. WE HELP YOU KILL SHIT. WE HELP YOU KILL SHIT DEAD.

THAT DEER YOU HATE- FUCKIN' KILL IT! WE'LL HELP YOU DO IT!

QUAIL?? WE'LL SELL YOU A SHOT GUN TO BLOW THE FEATHER FUCKER UP!!!!!!!!!

BIG HORN SHEEP?? WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT SHIT ON IT'S HEAD?? BLOW IT OFF!!!

BEAR???? Nah. Those are too big. You're on your own there, buddy.



I don't think that's what they want, though. I may have some editing to do.
And maybe I should stop drinking so much coffee/tea/crack.

Conversations with Local Beers

Ready... set... DRINK!

"Hello again, Red Oak. How are you?"
"Oh yeah? That's nice!"

"Oh, you want me to drink your beer? Well, if you insist."

"Hm, this isn't your normal brew."

"Battlefield Bock, you say?"

"Oh yes, I do indeed love it!"

This is an example of a conversation that I typically have with my beers. Don't you judge me. But yes, Red Oak has more than just their signature namesake beverage. Battlefield Bock is a Bavarian style bock that I enjoy even more than the original amber lager. It pours very dark and with caramel head. Instantly you get a whiff of chocolate. Two of my favorite things just happen to be beer and chocolate, so Battlefield Bock has me from the get-go. The taste is similar to the smell: chocolate and malty. No hops really found, which is not a negative at all. It seems like it should be heavy, but it's not. Not like a thick stout, but with some of the characteristics I enjoy from a stout. It's mild, sweet and very drinkable.

"Good job, Red Oak."

"What's that you say, little Greensboro brewery?"

"Oh, you're welcome!"

"Oh, nice of you to join us Sweet Josie."

"Yes, I know you're from Raleigh, like me."

"I'm enjoying Battlefield right now, but... wow! You're pushy."

"Okay, okay. Let me see what you got."

Lonerider's brown ale, Sweet Josie pours a dark brown (a little darker than most brown ales I've had) with slight flashes of amber. It looks nice enough. Has a bit of a toasty-roasty smell. Yeah, I said it: toasty-roasty. I got some chocolate taste in there and more hops than my previous glass o' goodness. There is definitely more hops present in this one, however. Still, the drinkability is high and I could see myself getting in trouble with this girl.

"Sweet Josie, what are you doing later?"

"Yeah? You dirty tramp, you."

"Hey there, Aviator! I didn't know you were from the outskirts of Raleigh- in good ol' Fuquay-Varina."

"Yeah, I agree. There really isn't anything else going on there."

"A beer? For ME? Why, thank you!"

HotRod Red is Aviators Irish Red. A very bright red pour with an off-white head gives way to a light aroma of malt. Very slight hops. Actually, the aroma isn't strong enough to pick up anything else. The flavor has more hops than the smell, but in a good way. The hoppiness and the malts are blended fairly well. Also, the finish is nice - clean and not much lingering. Decent little beer from the brewery outside of Raleigh.

"Yes, Avaitor, ya done good."

Let the Catch-Up Begin...

Looking through my beers notes, I've noticed there is a lot of catching up to do. This is okay. I'm taking a sabbatical from beer. Oh, don't fret. It's temporary. I'm on a diet of sorts right now. I only drink it if it's clear - this means water... and vodka. Calories, my friends, calories. So, this gives me ample time to pick up the pace of my beer blogs without constantly adding to my list - and waistline.

Let us start with the Highland Gaelic. giggle nearly every time I say the word Gaelic. So, ordering this got me a look from my server that said, "Grow up, dipshit, and drink this while you're at it." I obliged and was happy to do so. I do love a good amber ale, after all. It looked nice. They don't call it an amber for nothin' and this one followed suit. It poured a coppery-brown with just a light head. It smelled surprisingly sweet, however. Brown sugar and hops is the best I could get out of it. I'm not sure if it was just that simple or if I was still chuckling as a read the word Gaelic over and over in my head. The taste was a mix of malt and fruits that ended on a bitter note. Every once in a while I could taste that sweetness of that brown sugar smell. Decent beer. I liked.... GAELIC..... Okay, I'm done.

I clearly felt the need to step up my game, because I jumped into something a little stronger. Victory Yakima Twilight is the product of that leap. This one rings in at an 8.7%abv.

I was a little confused by the name, because it too much resembles an anime cartoon shown on late night Cartoon Network. But, I tried it for two reasons: 1. It's an IPA and I said I wanted something stronger and 2. I have to try 200+ beers anyway, so why not. When I poured it into the glass I was instantly taken aback. This was not a typical IPA. This was a BLACK IPA (also known as a dark IPA). Instead of the usual light, hazy characteristics this beer poured a reddish-brown. I stared at it for awhile. I'm scared at this point. I'm not racist in my beers, but because I don't like being snuck up on and I feel has already done so. Now what? Oh yeah, smell it. Hops, instantly. Duh, I know, it's an IPA. But this was an extraordinary smell of hops. Very strong and almost spicy. A little hint of caramel, but only slightly. The sweetness comes out more in the flavor and then the bitter hops hits you at the finish. A little citrus zest is thrown in there for good measure. All in all, I really enjoyed it.

Oh, and the name - NOT an anime. It actually comes from the Yakima Valley in Washington where the hops are farmed. The Yakima Valley is home to about 75% of the hop acreage in America. So, BAM! mo-fos. Knowledge.

And to round it all off, we have Founders Dirty Bastard.

This Scotch Ale from Michigan weighs in at a respectable 8.5%abv. This beer poured a nice deep, dark red and had a lot of earthy tones in the aroma. The dark sweetness is subtle, but very pleasant. It had a beginning taste of dried dark fruits - cherries maybe. Bitter chocolate a little bit of sweeter vanilla. Basically, I loved it, as I do most beers from Founders.

Now, as mentioned before, don't you dare think I've stopped my quest. I haven't- especially since I'm a paid member at FS and would never let that go to waste! But I'm a vain girl and need my break to let my body recover. I say this while I sip vodka and soda, so clearly my liver is not included in this recovery. Happy drinking, all!

Wwwwhhhhyyyyy???????????

Birds sound like sirens at 4:30 A.M. Even more annoying is the fact that the night time crickets are so unwilling to give up their shift so easily. Now it's just a battle of sounds that just makes me want to shove the dying flowers from last month stem deep in my ears.

Just wanted to say hi to those out there that actually get up at this time. I think you are all crazy and are in serious need of Tylenol PM and a stuffed bear. Go back to sleep.

I Need Beer.. and a Job.

My beer consumption has slowed down considerably. This is not out of lack of desire. Unfortunately my taste for exceptional brews and lack of funds available make it difficult to live the life of a beer snob. I am half-tempted to peruse my beloved bar in search of desperate boys who are willing to buy me an eight dollar beer with wanting nothing in return. This would go against everything I believe it - but, like I said, it's tempting.

I also have been job hunting. Which is why my blog has been going long periods of time with no new words. My apologies. If you know of anyone who wants to hire a semi-pro beer consumer who is looking to go pro (with pay, of course) please point me in their general direction. I am thirsty and becoming increasingly sad.

For now - CareerBuilder and Monster are calling my name. Both of these have given me no leads, so I am close to shooing away the Monster that's supposed to be Building me some sort of Career. After all, I hear those people who do "professional massages" on Craigslist are doing pretty well.

An Education and a Beer

I return, yet again! This time baring great news: I have finally completed my time as a college student. Well, as an undergraduate student (now excuse me while I stare out into the void and ponder my next step in academia)....

Okay, whew, back. Yes, I have finished my degree and was lucky enough to have my parents join me in my beloved Raleigh, North Carolina. There was no better way to wrap up such an epic era of college brew-ha-ha-ness then at my dearest little pub - The Flying Saucer. And epic era ending calls for epic beer consumption. That night was not so much quantity (no, no, that would come the next night on my actual graduation day) as quality. After briefing my parents on the extensive list of beers,they offered to aid in the celebration by purchasing one of the best on the menu: Allagash Curieux. At $25 a 750 ml bottle, I would be need to be stripped of my newly acquired degree if turned down.


Now, let me just say that I am a boubon drinker. I am also, clearly,a beer drinker. These are two things that make me unbelievably happy. When you merge these two together, it's much like two unicorns making love and producing offspring of rainbows, sunshine and this very beer.
The pour was golden (as it very well should be) and produced a decent head with light lacing. The fact that this is Allagash's Tripel Ale aged eight weeks in Jim Beam barrels is evident in the aroma. The boubon influence is noted first in the smell, but not it is not overwhelming. The taste, oh my heavens... yeast with citrus and warm, vanilla like bourbon. This is a sipping beer, because the warmth of the bourbon taste might overwhelm some. Not me, of course, but some.

I did, however, read and midget's handful of reviews that denounced the strong presence of bourbon flavor and I have dubbed them pussies of the highest nature, whose blasphemous tongues should be stripped of all flavor sensing capabilities.

I have been spoiled and refuse to wait till I complete a Masters program for my next bottle. So, be sure to donate on paypal (on your right hand side of the screen) so that I can enjoy this experience again. Hell, or just come out and join me!

Cheers.

Accomplishing Life and Other Things

So, I have a brand new way for you to follow what I'm doing - other than this wonderful site, of course! This one is a little more personal though. I have always kept a list of things I have wanted to do in my life. Call it what you want - a life list, a bucket list, whatever - but it's something that I had gotten away from about three or more years ago. I've started again and found this amazing website that allows you to not just post and organize this list, but always write and share with others about what you want to accomplish, how you did and how you fell about it. It's mylifelist.org and it's pretty amazing. I've started one, of course, and if you join we can share our accomplishments together!
I've already checked off one thing and finally conquered my intense fear of donating blood.









Also, I have many more beers to add. Bare with me here folks! :)

Dysentery Gary

St. Patrick's Day should have been a delightful day for me. I had so many amazing plans - to the point that a friend and I were referring to it as "The Best Day Ever." Alas, I jinxed it and found myself curled up in bed the night before with a 102 degree temp and the feeling similar to Manny beating on my bones with a baseball bat. Needless to say, I did not drink. I couldn't. And I haven't for an entire week. There was that one time that I attempted to sip a Boddington's but it later visited the the public library parking lot when I was forced to pull over and hack up my insides.

I am feeling better - thankfully. My quest shall continue. Until then... drink one for me.

Paging Dr. Drew

Dear North Carolina,

Do we need to talk? I think we do. I'm worried about all the white stuff you have around now. I get that you want to party every once in awhile, but what used to be a once a year occasion seems to have turned into a disturbing habit. Your constant indulgence in this white, euphoric substance has many of us worried. It's even effecting how the rest of us interact with you. We don't want spend time with you when you're like this. We look outside, see you covered in white powder and just roll our eyes.

"North Carolina's at it again..." we mumble to ourselves.

I think we've all let this go on long enough. It's March, for crying out loud, snap out of it! I hope you'll take this seriously, because I don't know how much longer all of us can take this. So, lay off the ice and take care of yourself. I'm just saying all of this because I care. I don't want you to end up like the rest of your friend's up North. Text me if you need help. I'm always here.

Your friend,

V

'Twas Not the Best Day

Three more beers comin' at'chaaaa...

I have become a fan of the IPA variety. Maybe this is because they tend to have high ABVs. You know, nothing like a little more bang for your buck. So, when I came across Jamaica Sunset IPA by Mad River Brewing it intrigued me. "Jamaica Sunset," I thought to myself, "how delightfully exotic sounding!"


WRONG. To say I didn't like it would be somewhat of an understatement. Oddly enough, I'm not exactly sure why I hated it so much. I even did research online about what other people said about it and the majority seemed to love the damn thing. Now I'm thinking that there is something wrong with ME. Are my taste buds completely out of whack? Have I been living a lie this whole time? Should I just stop and give up beer before something absolutely terrible befalls me??
Whew! Excuse me while I collect myself. Clearly this beer is not worth a break down. I just didn't like it and I must come to terms with the fact that this will happen from time to time. But let me at least give you a brief description of the one who has caused me such turmoil!
It pours a fuzzy amber/copper and just didn't look too crisp or clean to me. It also has far more malt flavor than expected and I feel the hops taste is very, very miniscule in comparison to the better IPAs. Citrus, such as grapefruit, can be tasted. Slightly sweet, but it finishes pretty heavy... and that's not a good thing. Combined with a cheesy looking bottle - I'm not impressed and don't plan on having this one again. So count it off my list, dear Flying Saucer, and chuck this bottle into the recycling.

Next up - a beer hailing form North Carolina: Duck Rabbit Milk Stout. I think nearly everyone who has a little bit of beer appreciation (or spent enough time staring at the beer section of a grocery store) will recognize the Duck Rabbit label. I like stouts. I like milk stouts. I like chocolate stouts. I just like these heavy, creamy beers. It was a nice black/brown pour, as most of these guys are, with a sweet and bitter smell of chocolate and coffee. The taste is pretty close to the smell with chocolate and coffee. Sweet, but not too much so and has a nice creamy feel to it. I dig it and all it's milkiness. And, hey, stare at the label long enough and it's nice mind-fuck when you've down a few.


And last.. and well, had it not been for that Jamaican abomination, this would have been least: Samuel Adams Boston Lager. The only reason I got this was due to the fact that it was the $2.75 beer special of the night and there was no way I would ever pay more for it.


I have a hatred for Sam Adams that mirrors the same reason I hate Heineken. Now, although it does taste better than a Heiney, Sam Adams is a beer that guys buy in an attempt to look better than their PBR and Bud Light chugging buddies. They order it in as if to say "Hey, I'm a little more sophisticated and have graduated from smashing cans against my head!" Granted, it's not a bad beer - it's just got a bad following. If Bud Light and Coors are the Big Wheels of beer, with the drivers skirting across the ground in their brightly colored plastic vehicles, Sam Adams (to me) is a bike with training wheels. I'm not even going to describe it. It's Sam Adams Boston Lager. If you've ever had a bike and you are over the age of 22, you've had this beer.


Well, that's all for today folks. I'm still trying to catch you up on the beers I've tasted. I will, more than likely go to my beloved beer haven tonight and put a couple away. I hope that you all will do the same! Good drinkin' to you, chaps!

Slowly... But Surely.

Hey, just because I've been dreading the sight of a computer, don't think I haven't stopped on my quest on being immortalized of the Flying Saucer wall! A boost in my scholastic activities have kept me off la computadora due to the fact that I spend too much time on here doing things I hate, so why would I want to stare at it any longer than I have to? I've overcome my pure distain for this brightly lit screen because I realize documenting my alcoholic exploits are far too important to me.

We all know my feeling on Foothills Seeing Double IPA. It hit me like a ton of drunken bricks that decided to drive a moped of hops into my face. I tried to expel this experience from my brain so that I would keep an open mind for this new brew. Don't get me wrong, I love the Seeing Double IPA! I just didn't want to go in to this experience with any expectations.



So, onto my run-in with the Foothills People's Porter. A dark and rich brown, this beer smells deeeelightful. I've always been a fan of the darker beers, so when you throw a little dark chocolate and coffee flavors into the mix, I'm a happy girl. With a very roasted taste, it's a tad thick (as it should be) and finishes a lot smoother than I had expected. A slight bite of hops, but nothing too crazy. I would gladly order this beer again. I suppose this was Foothills' apology to me for my embarrassing facial contortions with their previous beer.





I'll always be a supporter of Big Boss Brewing. Located right here in Raleigh, NC - how could I not support my local breweries? Since I started off with an dark NC beer, I kept the theme going with Bad Penny. I love brown ales and I LOVED this one. As most brown ales, this one poured a coppery type, well, brown. Smells a little nutty, a little sweet and the taste follows suit. Mixed in with a little caramel and malty taste, this beer just might be my new favorite by Big Boss. Plus, hellooooo chocolate mama on the label! Kudos, my local friends!


Yes, I know I said I would reach for the stars and put away the three upon each visit, but for some odd reason I didn't this time. I don't even remember why. Clearly, that indicates that I had been drinking prior and lost all recollection of my math skills. So, my apologies and I swear that this will NEVER happen again. Excuse me while I hang my head in shame and crack open one now to make up for it.