So I’ve gotten into the hobby of brewing my own beer. I was sort of inspired to give it a shot thanks to the wonderful amazing awesome lady I work with who hates it when I compliment her but you’ll have to fucking deal with it LAUR! She always wanted to try it and I like figuring shit out. And figure it out I did…sort of. Just finished brewing my fourth batch tonight and so far, all four batches have had something wrong with them. Let’s look at each one! Heeeeeeeere we gooooooooooo!!!!
The very first brew day was an IPA kit. It, and every other batch we’ve done, is a one gallon batch. After the last four batches I am glad we started small.
Brew day went well. We did the thing and set the 1 gallon fermenter aside to do its magic. I go out for a few days and come back to see that the thing had no signs of fermentation. Weird. Two weeks in and still no sign. I’ll spare the technical details but basically there’s a tool you can use to see if fermentation is complete (we call this a hydrometer!) and it wasn’t quite complete yet. Wait another week and the reading didn’t change. This means the yeast got lazy and took a nap. Bought some yeast energizer, which is basically food and cocaine for yeast, and that woke it right up! Waited another week and…still not fully done.
At this point I don’t give a shit anymore. We put it in bottles and set them aside for two weeks to carbonate. If the yeast wasn’t lazy, this could have resulted in some exploded bottles probably. But the yeast was very lazy so no bombs. Despite the delay and the high school dropout yeast, it actually tasted pretty good. Definitely making it again.
The whole reason we started this is because LAAAAAUR was obsessed with pumpkin beer. So our next brew day was…pumpkin beer! Great right? No. Not great. The problem with this one was the grains were’t milled properly. When you buy grains for homebrewing, you need to mill them. This basically means they get run through a machine which crushes them or cracks them or whatever you want to refer to it as. The point is you need to fuck them up a little. They need to feel like they’ve seen some shit. Not enough to ruin their lives but just enough to change them. These were’t fucked up enough. At best, they were slapped a few times by a lover who felt wronged. This means that we didn’t extract the sugars we needed for flavor and fermentation. This led to very sad beer. Not bad tasting, you can drink it. It’s just sorta really watered down. I bottled it anyway. Best case scenario, it turns into really weak beer. But still beer.
Same god damn story as pumpkin fucker above. Grains weren’t milled properly. Thanks brew shop! Got the grains for both beers on the same visit so yeah, same problems. This one wasn’t a complete failure though. It does taste kinda beer like. The alcohol content will be low but I’m betting it’ll taste sort of decent-ish after carbonating. We’ll see. Bottled this cock sucker too. Both this and pumpkin fucker will be ready to drink two Fridays from now.
Apple Ale Part Two
For this one I wanted to try something a little different. Instead of doing a single 1 gallon batch, I wanted to do a 2 gallon batch. Same equipment and everything. Basically two 1 gallon batches done side by side. Went and bought new base grains (which looked like they were milled right this time. Thanks Obama!) and took a rolling pin to the specialty grains I currently have left over from the last time. Everything went great. Took readings on each half of my new experimental setup and it looked like I was getting enough sugar from the grains. Success, right? No no no fucking no!
There is a step in the brewing process where you strain the grains to separate the beer water you just brewed then slowly pour more water over the grains to rinse any excess sugars off. After this step, things didn’t feel quite right. The total volume felt a little off but I was’t 100% sure. Transferring to the fermenters was a pain because hop debris kept clogging up the screen on my funnel. Like there wasn’t enough water for them to sort of spread out and dissolve right. If it isn’t clear what’s going on it will be now. Once I poured each pot into each fermenter, they were only half full. That’s right! I rinsed with only half of the water I needed. Fuck me sideways. God fucking damnit.
I filled the fermenters up the rest of the way with water and shook it up to mix it all together before adding my yeast. Took a reading and wasn’t too far off from where it should have been. Posted on reddit’s homebrewing subreddit explaining what I did to see what I should expect. One guy said it’ll be slightly less alcohol, lighter color, less malt flavor. Another guy said it’ll be beer. Thanks guy. You’re a modern day sage of wisdom. Third guy said it’d probably be the best beer ever and I’ll never quite know how to do it again. If that is the case then I’m quitting on a high note.
So what have I learned? Keep doing small scale brewing. Things can and will fuck up and I’ll only have to deal with 1 gallon of mistake instead of 5 gallons. Also I’m an idiot. I learned that too.
Real name is Timmy Seedsplitter. Young Timmy is the current heir to the Sky Hamster legacy. A legacy of greatness forged through heroic deeds and microwave radiation. Timmy becomes a Sky Hamster through an ancient and sacred ritual (homeless hamsters microwave a microwave behind a Best Buy) and gains the power of short distance flight and super strength. Well not really super strength, just a bit stronger than what hamsters are used to. Think along the lines of a really excited puppy. That level of power.
Timmy’s half brother Tyrone Seedsplitter. He and Timmy have the same father but Tyrone doesn’t have the potential to become a Sky Hamster, despite being born before Timmy. Tyrone decides he no longer cares about the legacy or his family’s expectations of him and sets forth to become a pimp. His goal is to fully control the hamster fuck market on the east coast.
Rufus was the previous Sky Hamster. He currently lives in retirement from his years of service and spends his time being a Scottish alcoholic. Due to the microwaved microwave radiation needed to awaken a Sky Hamster’s powers, Rufus has cancer. Such is the fate of all Sky Hamsters. He spends his days drinking heavily and trying to teach his boys about the proud legacy of the Sky Hamsters.
Professor Baby Cat
He’s just a little baby cat. He just runs around doing baby cat things. He’s a baby kitten kitty cat!
Baby Cat is dumb as hell and very accident prone. He means well but accidentally does a lot of really horrible shit. Things like creating a race of violent ultra rapey cactus monsters on the moon. That sort of thing.
Baby Cat specializes in chemistry, which is one of the biggest mistakes in the history of everything. He really should not have graduated college and he definitely shouldn’t have been given a PHD. He’s just so god damn stupid! How the fuck did he even get into college let alone graduate?
Anyone who knows me from my art school days knows I’ve lazily thrown together the story of a character I created called Sky Hamster. I came up with the comic strips, refined the character a little, but never really did much with him. I stopped drawing all together after I graduated back in 2007 and concentrated on web design, abandoning the ideas I came up with. I haven’t drawn or doodled anything at all until a year ago. I got a new job in an office with many white boards and co-workers with an appreciation for the absurd so I started drawing again. This Facebook album shows the progression from re-learning how to draw stupid shit up to drawing stupid shit with mediocre but passable skill.
Now to the actual point. I started drawing that damn flying hamster again. Thanks to the people I work with, some other characters were developed as well. We’ve fleshed out some story ideas and I’ve got a lot of story forming in my head. So now to get this shit out there and force myself to start doing something with all of this, here is a portion of what I do when I should really be working:
Some ass hole kid decided to put his pet hamster in the microwave one day but he didn’t leave him in long enough. His cheap ass parents didn’t want to get a good microwave so the low wattage plus the short cook time irradiated the hamster just enough to give him super powers. The hamster could fly and had super strength (really he was about as strong as a big cat with a healthy appetite).
In a blur of vengeance, the hamster broke through the microwave door and rained blows upon the young child’s skull in the spot that controls motor skills. After ensuring the kid could no longer wipe his own ass or walk through a door un-assisted, the hamster thought long and hard about what to do with his new gift.
Despite ruining a child’s life, he decided to use his powers for good. He was the first in what would be a long line of Sky Hamsters. Each descendent would inherit his power and legacy.
The current Sky Hamster’s real name is Timmy Seedsplitter. The Sky Hamster gene is present in young Timmy but it has weakened slightly from one generation to the next. Once Timmy is of age he must take part in a ritual to kick start the Sky Hamster gene and give him his powers. He is taken to a dumpster behind a Best Buy where hamster druids will attempt to microwave a slightly smaller microwave.
The ritual is a success! Timmy’s powers activate and he is now the next Sky Hamster. The hamster druids die during the ritual. Only a true Sky Hamster can survive the microwaving of a microwave.
Fly Hamster is Timmy’s half brother, Tyrone. Both hamsters have the same mother but only Timmy’s father was a Sky Hamster. Tyrone has no powers at all. Tyrone is jealous of Timmy because of his legendary birthright. He tries to find his own path in life and becomes a hamster pimp. No hamster whores along the east coast operate without the consent of Fly Hamster. He alone runs the east coast hamster prostitution industry.
(I don’t have any drawings of this guy yet. Just picture a hamster with a pimp hat and a luxurious purple coat. Also a cane. Bitches love canes.)
Father to Timmy and stepfather to Tyrone, Rufus is the previous Sky Hamster. He died shortly after Timmy was born due to mysterious cactus related injuries.
(Also no drawings of this guy. I kinda want him to be an alcoholic or a racist southerner. We’ll see…)
Honorabu asian rat people of Georgetanistan (Pronounced George-tan-istan). They are red by honorabu emperor George Tan.
The Georgetanistanians are asian rat hobos. They rive on an isrand made of crashed airpranes duct taped together. They create honorabu machines from random garbage. Most of these are mechanicar dragons and framing trash can robots. And a Gundam.
The eyes of a Georgetanistanian are sranted to hord back their true power. Opening their eyes causes the rerease of ancient power, retting them ascend to godhood temporariry.
After Timmy becomes the honorabu Sky Hamster-san, the Georgetanistanians teach him to fight. They are the ancient protectors of Sky Hamster-san.
He was cursed with the gift of flight. If he ever chose to fly he would never be able to stop or control it. One day he sees a little girl about to be kidnapped and sold to wealthy Japanese businessmen. He must make a decision; does he continue meandering towards them knowing he’ll never get there in time or does he take flight and save the day. He sort of goes for option two. He jumps up and takes to the skies but soars over them. The kidnapper is mystified and doesn’t notice the little girl running away to safety.
He spends the rest of his life slowly flying through the sky completely unable to stop. After a year of aimlessly floating he notices his wife with the neighbor manatee. She moved on and the kids now call him dad. It rains hard that day but not from the clouds, it’s from the sorrowful eyes of a cursed sea cow.
Thrown into an intense depression, his new goal is suicide. He floats onward hoping to bump into something at just the right angle. Maybe it’ll bounce him into a jet engine. Maybe he’ll hover over a military base and they’ll shoot him down. Maybe he’ll float into space. He doesn’t care how it happens it just needs to happen. There is nothing for him in life now.
Ruthless desert plant life. They live to satisfy their baser instincts. The travel from one area to another raping and pillaging. They take what they want, when they want. They commit countless atrocities to innocent people and even themselves. Their goal is to bring forth the season of evil. It’s like burning man but so much more evil. When the moon is full and the planets align the cacti go into a murder rape frenzy.
Types of cacti
Spartans: These are the average cactus soldiers. They are focused on both rape and violence equally.
Biter: These cacti have razor sharp teeth and want to do nothing but bite the shit out of people.
Mutant: Larger cactus monster. They are produced by some freak accident like in-breeding or food allergies. They can grow to the size of small children. Their focus is more on physical violence than rape.
The second anual McKenna Fest just happened. Yes, there was a lot more turtle meat. Yes, more people joined the fun. Yes, a lady’s character is sucking off my character in the screenshot. A good time was had by all! Here’s how things went down…
The Running of the Deez
Sadly, Deez couldn’t be with us. He died in a factory fire. His spirit lives on in all of us though and he will never be forgotten!
We had some kid run in his place, though. And by some kid I mean the kid who makes all other stalkers seem like distant admirers. This kid has a hair doll of Deez and holds it close when the world around him makes him sad. But hair doll Deez makes all the sad go away. Everything is right when just the two of them lay in bed together and to them there is no one else. There’s is a world made just for two. A world where it’s ok to collect a grown man’s hair from a comb and save it up over time to make a miniaturized effigy of your hearts one true desire. It was for Deez that this young boy ran. Desire gave speed to his feet and the promise of love gave motivation to his soul. We chased him from Stormwind to Ironforge via the tram. He chased his dreams along a road made of rainbows and wishes.
The Sending of the Meat
Last year we sent McKenna a little over 800 pieces of turtle meat. This year we collected over 4,500. All of it was sent to McKenna one item at a time, filling his in game mailbox with 4,500 messages. It took us about an hour to send everything. The last time so much meat was forced into someone’s box, Lone’s mom discovered the joy of bukake style gang bangs. And like Lone’s conception, we destroyed that box.
The Raping of the Land
The idea here is to attack a town and make McKenna arrive to stop us right as the game lets him know he just received our messages. Last year the plan didn’t work, he didn’t show up at all. This time it did. The area was already filled with other people trying to stop us on top of all the NPC guards being there. Then he came by. Honestly the only real rape that happened was inside of our assholes. I think we had like three people who were geared enough to actually fight people. It didn’t go well at all. But the plan worked anyway. He came out, I shot at him a little, he checked his mail, turtle meat.
McKenna Fest 2014 will be on the first Saturday of February, which happens to land on my birthday! Start preparing now for what will be the best McKenna Fest yet.
McKenna Fest 2013 is a little over a week away and my body could not be more ready! We have more people and way more turtle meat than last year. One guy is even trying to figure out how to mail him a turtle in real life. Your mailbox is not prepared.
Participants from last year already know how this will go down but for the new people, here’s a run down…
The Reason for the Season
For those who don’t play warcraft and enjoy a healthy tan and/or sex life, McKenna is a guy in a video game. Whenever he messages us to talk shit or troll or use his words to verbally bad touch our inner child (yes we all collectively have a single inner child in my guild. His name is Steven and it’s ok that he likes ballroom dancing) we respond with “I like turtles.”
McKenna Fest is the celebration of that social exchange. It is a day where we send him turtle meat and other various turtle based items one item at a time. It’s a day where we as a community stand united for one common goal. It’s a day where McKenna won’t be able to access any of his in game mail until he probably opens a ticket and has a GM take care of it and ban us all. It’s a risk I’m willing to take.
The Main Event
McKenna Fest is a three part event; The running of the Deez, The sending of the Meat, and The Raping of the Land. Each part is vital to the success of the event. Leaving one out is the same as telling a child there is no Santa Clause while you put lit cigars out on his face. Too graphic? Well don’t fuck with my holiday and Steven won’t have to try and explain the weird burns!
Only turtle based items may be used. Anything with the word ‘turtle’ in the title is acceptable.
All items must be sent one at a time. If you have 200 pieces of turtle meat, you’re sending McKenna 200 messages in game.
Unlike last year, adding text to your message is not required. I won’t go into specifics here but the volume of turtle meat we’ve gathered so far ensures a sizeable chunk of McKenna’s day will be spent dealing with his mail. We won’t need to push the bruise further.
All meat insertion will be done on Alliance side on Winterhoof server. We have a guild for this and you will be provided with bags and postage.
The fun starts February 2nd at 8pm server time. If you don’t have time to farm don’t worry, we have plenty of items for you to send. Prepare now by creating your alliance character and park it in Stormwind by a guild bank. Next Saturday, shit gets real!
There is a legend. Mortals dare not speak of it beyond whisper. Stories are told by camp fire of deeds once done. Wrongs once righted. Dragons once slain. The legend, once real, has moved on leaving nothing but rumor and hope in her wake. But evil has returned. The day is no longer safe and the night is now the play thing of wickedness. A blind homunculus now treads heavily where children now play. The world needs the return of its hero now more than ever. The world needs Gigunda the Destroyer.
You once stood before this evil toe to paw and stared into the gates of hell un-flinching. With one mighty swing of your furry leg you fell that which no ordinary man could dream to conquer. You thought your work to be over. You thought your deeds to be done and your current leisure earned. The people now cry out to you, Gigunda. The people need to believe in heroes once again. The furry avenger must take flight once more, sweeping yet another leg for great justice! Wickedness no longer threatens just a few. Our young are at risk Gigunda.
Rise up, brave cat. Rise from where you now call home and journey forth. Leave nothing but misery where evil dares to slumber. Go to where the dreams of a savior are and make them a reality. Vanquish this foe and if you so desire it bring it back from the dead just to kill it again. You rule the land, Gigunda the Destroyer. Make sure it never goes forgotten again.
Back in February I hosted the first annual McKenna Fest. It was a day where we celebrated the existence of a guy in a video game by mass mailing him 800+ turtle meats and I chased a naked dwarf around. Today McKenna talked to me in game and let me know he found the post where I detailed the event. To say that was awkward is an understatement. First I thought well this is gonna be a fun exchange of shit talking and hate. Then I thought wait…did I say anything insulting in my post. Next I thought yes. Yes I did say things. Lots and lots of things. Finally I thought fuck it let’s see where the night takes us.
It was the first conversation with him that didn’t involve bragging, shit talking, insulting, or me saying I LIKE TURTLES. Well no I did say that at the end. I couldn’t help myself. But it was a nice change of pace. After some talking he seemed ok with the post, a little flattered that I dedicated some web space to him actually. He also seemed ok with the idea of McKenna Fest being an annual thing. Which is great because McKenna Fest 2013 is gonna be so much better.
So McKenna; if you return to my humble website I’d like to note a few things:
I meant what I said when I said there is no malice behind the post and the celebration. Hell there’s little to no hatred in game from most of us in Wickedy Woo.
McKenna Fest 2013 will involve greater volumes of turtle related items. Honestly I’m expected to get a ban this time so no hard feelings for when you inevitably do report us. Also I really reeeeeally want some pvp to be involved this time so let me know which town we’ll need to attack to get your attention. Theramore didn’t do the trick. I know you like the pvp thing and it’s your day after all so let’s talk about that one.
The folks from Wickedy Woo will probably never stop saying I LIKE TURTLES to you. It’s fun for us please don’t take it away.
If you ever transfer to horde, you have a spot in Wickedy Woo. Zombie Land too they’ll take anyone, but I trust you’ll make the right choice.
Many years ago as children my brother and I were out shopping with our mother. My brother comes running to me, his eyes wide with excitement. “You gotta come see this!” he exclaimed. I followed him, trying to keep up with his frantic pace. What could be so amazing? We were kids what the fuck could it be? An infinite candy genie? Pants that fit? Self multiplying puppies who shit dreams and more puppies and the puppies rise up on their hind legs to whisper secrets to us? It was none of those. At the end of the rainbow was our mother. But something was off. Her stride was deliberately awkward and reminiscent of the walking style of a midget with no knees. Her face was stressed and the air around her was foul. “We have to leave right now” she said. “Why?” I asked with innocence. “We. Have. To Fucking. Go. Right. Now.” I look down and noticed something fall from her shorts. I lean in to take a closer look. What could it be? Is that…shit? Sweet white jesus it was shit! It was all so clear now. And if it wasn’t then my brother would clear up the confusion. “MOM SHIT HER PANTS!” he yelled with pride. Continue reading →
To the folks who are now in charge of my cat’s well being, I congratulate you on your acquisition. She is by far the best cat in all the land and she will show you a love the likes of which you have never seen. My father and brother probably told you this already and they’ve probably given you a brief run down of what to expect from her. But I’m betting they left out a few important details. So allow me to fill in the blanks.