Ta ta for two weeks and tensum

So long, suckaz
Off to the Emerald Isle and won't be back until June 25. Which means, no posts (are you nuckinfutz?). Not that it matters much - posts here have been scanty at best, boring at worst of late - but don't expect anything until after I get back. While I'm gone you should go pop in at Soiled Dove Inn and give her grief about not posting more.

Also, because I insist on moderating comments (due to puerile asshats in the past who felt a brilliant strategy of getting at me was posting their stupidity here), your fine comments won't see the light of day until I return. By all means, comment away, just don't expect anything to post in the near future.

All of that is not why I'm posting, though. There is something important I want to say before I'm Dublin-bound...

MBS (heretofore, my darling and beautiful Mara) had a fight the other night, something I believe couples do from time to time. As we reached resolution, Mara told me how much she appreciated how deeply I believe in our relationship, how hard I work on it. I didn't tell her (but I will now) is how much I appreciate how hard she has worked on this relationship: if it wasn't for her doing pretty much everything, we wouldn't be going to Ireland and our wedding would still be a distant (if pleasant) dream. Her hard work made all of this happen, I was just the guy she bounced her brilliant ideas off of because I was the guy lucky enough to be the one she wanted to share her dreams and adventures. Lucky enough to walk down the aisle with, dance with, toast some mead with, and now, jet off to Ireland for the time of our lives.

So please don't think I am fortunate for getting to go to Ireland. I am fortunate because I ended up finding my true soulmate, my partner in crime, my co-parent, my best friend, the best (by far) thing that has ever happened to me.

Ah, the luck of the Irish. Even if I am a bit of a prick.

The brew to do

The egg on our faces is from another scientist's head exploding
The "Honeymoon Brew" is racked and ready to bottle; we'll put on the caps tomorrow.

Also tomorrow: gerieatric rocking out, chicken killing, and New Mexican adventures. Stay tuned.

Anyway, we started this first brew about 10 days ago with almost two cans of light malt extract, Irish Ale yeast, Cascade hops to start and Centennial hops to finish (the entire boil went an hour with the finishing hops in the last fifteen minutes). We're calling this our "Honeymoon Brew" because we're bustin' the caps on it after we return from Ireland. Toasting us and Obama.

Not talking about the weather but actually doing something about it

How soft your fields so green,
Can whisper tales of gore,
Of how we calmed the tides of war.
We are your overlords.
Look around you, outside, what do you see? Skimpy outfits on the swine waiting in line to see Sex & the City? Quarts of sweat dripping off the fat guy's moobs, collecting like strings of pearls on the short curly ones rimming his aureaolae? Kids running and jumping through the sprinkler on your lawn, screaming with the sting of rock salt from your 20 guage?

June 5th and it was freakin' snowing here, I even had a fire going, this morning. It's a good thing we're heading to Santa Fe, to the land of the tiny-feathered silver earring on the blue-bobbed saggy tit. Sssshhhh.... she's wetting her bill with a bit of mohito and seeking to mate with the broad-shouldered personal trainer (after having passed on the talentless artist).

We're going to see X at the brewery and then coming back here to embark on our journey to the emerald city... or isle... I can't remember which.

While we're in Santa Fe, your invitation is here:

Goin' to the north, north, north shore

Yes, THAT kind of surfing...
Despite reports to the contrary (on E! and those phony-ass cable "news" networks), the wedding went off without a hitch and, in fact, not nearly as many people were arrested as was reported. The whole KIA thing is total bullshit and we're not taking any responsibility for the MIA folks - they'll show their faces when they're ready, we reckon.

And no, I didn't spike the punch but with our crowd, who knows who the culprit might have been? I suspect some old hippie from the bride's side.

Now we're off to Ireland for two weeks. It's a backwards country dontchaknow, what with their sod huts and religious wars and lack of potable water. We're taking the exotic route, I know, but what with the dollar's value everywhere else, we're taking the bargain. Point is, don't expect any posts from hereabouts considering they probably don't have internet over there - hell, they don't even have a written language. They're ignorant but they sure make a mean whus-kee.

We're taking lots of beads to trade and a camera in order to take pictures of the poor, dumb savages so that we can steal their souls and then sell the souls back to them at an inflated rate. Again, the rate of the dollar probably puts us at a disadvantage in that endeavor.

I'll report on the wedding when I get back. Hopefully, arraignments will give me a better idea of who is where and the what-diddy-what.