Beer'd

I make beer.  Pretty much every day I wake up and I don't have to work, I say to  myself that I'm going to make beer.  About 1/60th of those days do I actually make beer.  Three kids takes up a lot of my time.  I have a big pot and all kinds of spoons and buckets and coils that make the process a little more efficient.  I like making IPA because there is less time to wait between me making it and me drinking it.  It also tastes great at anytime of the year.  I feel like I'm good enough at it to produce it on a large scale and sell it.
I live in Bay Roberts again and I couldn't be sadder.  I have no friends out here and the it seems like I'm just a machine that follows my kids around.  You'd think that would afford me the time to make more beer.
Sarah Turpin loved my IPAs.  She loved all my beers.  Sometimes I knew she she didn't like them but she loved me and so she'd say she loved the beers. 
She died.  October 3, 2014 at around 4:45PM.  I watched it happen.

Standin by the stove...

those pics made her very quiet,

Sarah Turpin has her own place. And just when couch surfing was starting to become popular. I was down there yesterday. She was unpacking boxes from what seemed like a different life that she had. She came across this box of photographs. I sat next to her as she skimmed through them, placing them into piles, but it didn't really seem as if they were becoming anymore organized. Every now and then she would come across a picture with her in it and say either "I was soooo drunk here" or "I am soooo drunk in this picture" The only pictures where she didn't say that was when there were pictures of her and Peter Miles (It might be spelled with a y, whatever). I knew him from before but didn't know that I knew him until I saw those pics. That guy went downhill a bit. He probably doesn't read my blog so I can safely say that without reprocussions. I'm not too worried either way. I probably look as good now as I'm gonna get. I was fat before and I'll be older and deformed from a workplace accident soon enough.

There was a wedding last night. Warford drank wine out of a shoe and I drank the water out of the centerpiece in the middle of the table. Classy.

I feel I should give you something to listen to. Shuv dis up in ya.

Sunday night Whinos

Here I am at the beginning of September. The unofficial last day of summer. "Good riddence" I says. This has certainly been a summer to forget. Especially since the highlights of the summer include discovering the Boone's Chug and having a drunk girl in Goose Bay try to give me a handjob in the middle of a crowded bar.
I didn't have sex either. Me and David Duchovny should hang out. I could straighten him out. This is the longest time I have gone without having sex since I lost my virginity. It actually doesn't bother me that much. I have been stood up too many times recently to give a shit about women right now.

Enough of the chickenshit-bullshit. Let's talk about this weekend... weeee!
I didn't go into work on Friday. I had an appointment that morning and took the day off to go to it. This meant I could sleep in a little later. I ended up at The Ship on Thursday night. Cherie Pyne released a CD there that night. I bought the CD. Unfortunately, most of the songs that she played that I had enjoyed were on one or more of her previous records. Paul Warford told me an attractive girl was giving me the up and down while we were there. He did not tell me this though until we were in the car, on the way home. "Thanks, shithead" I said. If she was hanging out at The Ship, I would say that she was a little too artsy for me. She's the kind of girl who wouldn't have sex with me because I once ate beef jerky. Get over it. Vegetables aren't everything.
Friday night was at Robert Shandera's house. He turned 27 this weekend and he invited a crowd over to celebrate. Robert Shandera invited many single women to his party. A true pal. None of these girl showed up though. They all went to send a girl off to Australia. It was just as well. It was lost. It was a boy's night. I did a Boone's chug. Kirk and Miranda showed up and announced their engagment. That just leaves Me, Warford and Pike.
Saturday was one of the days the three of us will talk about years from now. Shandera, Warford and myself drove out to Spaniard's Bay to get fitted for our tuxedos for Shandera's wedding. We walk in and tell the missus who were are and what we are doing there and she goes around the corner to get nice clothes for us to try on. We wander the shop, making fun of silly dresses and trying on top hats. Me and warford are in a corner where there is a mannequin wearing a wedding dress. I walk up behind the headless woman and start grinding her. I turn on my camera and tell warford to make love to the lifeless form. He gets behind the mannequin, places his hands on her hips and starts thrusting, much to our delight. Missus comes back around the corner and shouts "Get outta dat!" Laughter ensues. Missus goes back around the corner and warford makes his way towards the mannequin and whispers "c'mon, c'mon get a shot of this hee hee" He resumes thrusting the mannequin from behind when the missus comes around the corner and catches him doing it AGAIN! Missus bawls out: "Now Paul, what would yer mudder think if she knew you were doin' dat!?" I really wish I had a movie of the whole thing. Still photography will have to do.

After we get fitted and we see our parents, we go to Ernie Green's for a feed of chicken, potato and lard. A tasty treat. My car still smells like garlic and savory.
Saturday night was full of inspiration. I was hungry and my eyes could have used visine....
Sunday was Robert's birthday. We decided to go to comedy and then hit the street for tomfoolery. Comedy was pretty good. There was a girl there who i had not seen before. Her name was Mikaela and she was funny. Not a typical female comedian. Nothing was typical about her. She was funny (duh), smart and absolutely attractive in my eyes. Warford told me she had perfomed here before but hadn't been around in a long time. After the show I went up and talked to her in an attempt to find out more about this woman that intrigued me so much. Turns out she hadn't done comedy in a while at the Victory because she lives in fucking Toronto and is home for a few days. Alas, my world continues to spin on.
We leave the comedy 3/4 of the way cocked. We immediately turn into a dark alley where myself and warford take turns drinking a bottle of homemade wine from his father. This is where the night goes downhill for me. We end up at Greensleeves downing pint after pint and shouting requests to the poor musician on the stage. "Play Metallica! I bet you can't fucking play Metallica!" He did. On an acoustic guitar no less. I don't remember much about leaving. A friend of a friend saw me and later said "I wasn't fit and could barely stand up" That sounds about right.
We are walking down the street and I see I girl I know. For a while I had an interest in her. That's a different story. Anyways, I approach her and say "hello". She looks up and gives a cheerful "Hi" that she is known for. It is at this point I realize how drunk I am really am. I don't know what to do. So I tell her the truth'
"Uh, I'm too drunk to talk to you right now" I say. Then walk away.
I guess I won't be calling her anytime soon.
I then ate a hotdog, went home and threw up. First time in a long time. I was due. I needed that hangover too. Made me realize the messes I am putting myself in.

Game night.

27 is too late to start taking part in the century club. I did this last night. I was stoked. I had made the mix tape. 100 1-minute clips of songs. Every time the song changed you had to drink a shot glass of beer 100 shot glasses of beer makes me pretty loaded evidently. I was the only participant to finish the activity. Does that make me the winner? Didn't feel like it. I passed out. Then another game was played. Throw beer stoppers at Peter's lifeless carcass until he wakes up. Dennis Short won that game with a precision throw that beaned me in the temple. Until that point I was unaware of the game. Actually, I was unaware of the game until I sat up and showered beer stoppers onto the floor.
Paul Warford is a cheater, although he didn't know it. His shot glass was a trick one or something like that. Me and Dennis realized something was up when We got to about the 25th shot. Warford was just opening his 2nd beer and we had several emptied. Turns out the shot glass he had held about 1/3 of an ounce. It must be like the shot glasses they use in strip clubs. It always a rip-off there.
This morning I am trying to recall the night. I am having trouble differentiating between what actually happened and stuff I might have dreamed.

Bill Matthew's Volkswagen can kiss my ass.

Heeeeeeeeere FISHY FISHY FISHY!

I spent a couple of days this week in Bay Roberts at my parents place. I needed to recharge and to find myself a little bit. Y'all know what's going on.
This morning me and dad go fishing. We go in past butlerville. Past first pond. Past second pond. Past third, fouth, fifth, 69th pond. We went way in. My Dad spoke like he knew where he was going. Boyd had told him about herringbone gully or something like that. He didn't know. I didn't care. There were very few ways for us to get lost. We drove over dirt road and wash-out for about 35 minutes. Finally we got to "the spot Boyd was talking about"
I cast out twice and get my hook stuck on a stick in the water. I have to cut my line already.
Cut the bullshit. If you have a grain of interest left you'll want to know if I caught anything. I did. 3 fishes. I threw them all back.. One of them was worth keeping but it had been such a long time since I was fishing last that I forgot what a good size mud trout was. They don't get that big.
Dad figures were are gone far enough on this dirt road that if we keep going we will meet up on the old track and end up in Whitbourne. Of course this isn't the case. We drive and drive and eventually the road deteriorates into a bog. Fortunetly, it wasn't all lost. In this bog was two canadian geese and a half dozen of their goslings. I think it's the first time I have seen these in the wild... I didn't have a camera. I don't know if I wanted to take a picture anyways. It would be one of those pictures you would show people and they would say "Oh Wow" but not really give a shit. The internet has done that to people. If I want to look at a picture of a goose, google will hook me up.
It took us over an hour to get back into civilization. During which I busted open a whole bottle of fly dope in my jacket.. Thank the baby Jesus for trucks and the open pans that they are known for.

I have nothing for you to watch this time...

!!

No one knows...

I have been driving back and forth from St. John's to C.B.N. everyday all week. I don't mind it as much as I thought I would. It's really kicking the shit out of my car though. My car is black. Salt is white. My car looks like a zebra. Then a crack developed in the windshield. My car looks a lot older than it's 16 months. It's starting to look like a car that someone who has dealings with drugs would drive around in. Winter needs to fuck off now....
On one my trips in over the highway, I hear on the radio that Queens of the Stone Age is playing in St. John's. I immediately call Warford, which is illegal. It's not illegal to call warford, just when I am driving the car. You all know that. Anyways, I realize that calling Warford at 7:45 in the morning is just as useful as shitting in my own hand. He either went to bed 2 hours ago or still hasn't gone to bed yet because he is immersed in some video game that I don't like and can't become unglued to answer the phone.
I don't why I shit on you so much Warford. You are one of my bestest friends and it's so easy.....

This entry may contain scenes of nudity

I was at my parents house on monday. I had a pile of furniture in their living room. Mom was in Egypt when I put it there. She got home the other day. I was trying to figure out if I liked my Mom being halfway around the world in the desert more than I liked moving a bedroom set. She baked me a pie. The stuff had to go.
It's not like I had to move it far. Across the street actually. In the vacant part next door to Big Bite Pizza. Walt gave me an office in the back for me to stash my shit until I move back into town. 50 bucks a month. I became the billionth tenant of the place. Baloons fell from the ceiling. Or maybe it was gyproc dust. Before a storage office, that place was:
-Someone's house
-A Honda Store
-A video rental place
-An Adult Education centre
-P.C. Headquarters
-Another ATV place (Yamaha I think)
-A place to get yer nails did

I am sure there are more but memory fails me. Danny Williams came over for lunch with Mom when the elections were on the go. She could be a chef. She makes very complex and beautiful dishes. My dad likes to eat cod's heads.

How much is a tin a Pepsi in Alberta? Do they call it "a tin of Pepsi" in Alberta? Is it more or less than here? My friend ate at restaurant in Alberta and he told me that a club sandwich was like 25 bucks. Where is the justification?......

I been trolling the internet for at least a year now trying to find an episode of Saturday Night Live that I had seen in 2004. It was hosted by Robert DeNiro. I wanted it for a particular piece that I find to be one of my favorites. Well, I found and downloaded the episode this week. I plan on posting the particular piece as soon as I figure out how to cut that piece out of the whole show. I also found the episode from that season that Jason Bateman hosted. I feel that that particular episode was the best one since 2000. Just about every sketch is a winner.

I wrote this entire blog naked.

How many Riff's did you pass on YOUR way home?

Pre-Blog Note:
I wrote this Blog on the night of February 9th but the internet seems to be still in its infancy here in C.B.N. and wasn't working last night. Life becomes that much more boring around the bay when the internet fails. I think the previous sentence is a lovely precursor to the actual blog post. Here it goes.

I went in town for the day today. I think that is the first time I have said that this century. I have been living “around the bay” for two weeks and I already miss it. Especially Future shop. I went in town today to get my fix. Armed with gift certificates from Christmas I embarked on a mini-spree in order to get the smell of new electronics wafting across my nose once again. I walked out with nothing and I am truly disgusted about it.
I didn’t take me long to realize the reason for my lack of silicon and semiconductors. In August of 2007 I found myself responsible for paying the entire rent on a beautiful 2 bedroom apartment in Paradise. Most of you will know what happened therefore I will not go into detail. It was the fear of not having enough money that kept me away from my electronic needle-and-spoon. Even though I had gift certificates and no money would be coming out of my pocket, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t justify making frivolous purchases. I guess I am easily conditioned. There weren’t many good sales worth taking advantage of anyways. Future Shop in St. John’s kinda reminds me of the Canadian Tire in Carbonear. You get this deadly flyer in the mail promising sales that would make you really give like Santa and save like Scrooge. You rush down there only to find out that not only are they out of stock but they never had the fuckin’ thing in the first place.

Next, I have entered a couple of thoughts that popped in my head recently take them with a grain of sulphuric acid:

I think MUN should get a hockey team. They are one of the few universities in Canada that doesn’t have one. When the Fog Devils finally get the fuck out of town Mile One will be empty and MUN hockey could be a successful venture. Lots of people have a connection and/or pride towards MUN. You’d get a lot more people going to Seahawk’s Hockey than Seahawk’s Basketball or Soccer.

I should buy a rubber cunny. That would be cool to bring to parties and stick between the cushions of the host’s couch.
*Note*: When I was searching for a link to stick to "rubber cunny", I found this. Feel free to comment.