Please don't eat my babies

See here, Mrs. Green, I got a bag full of your babies, and I am going to eat them.

Oh No, please don't eat my babies!

But they I so delectably sweet, I must. And there is nothing you do about it. Muahahahaha

Oh no please not my babies, I will do anything you ask.

Anything?

ANY-thing....

Hmmmm....

And that is how I got this bag full of green and white m&ms

Merry Christmas Jerk

Merry Christmas You Jerk.

What did you give me? Nothing but some cheap plastic toys that I ate in less than five minutes and this stupid ass hat that I can't shake off. Sure laugh it up, but while you are messing around with your new espresso machine, and gorging on chocolate without giving me any, I am going to go chew on the cord for the Christmas lights.

That'll teach you to turn me into Santa's little helper: Asshole

I say young man can you let me go? Or at least give me some milk and cookies, I am all bones and beard. I am sorry I did not bring you a new hot top coffee roaster that you wanted. But times are tough. You should be happy with your new espresso machine and five pound sack of beans.

More little turd adventures

The other day I took the lil turd out to the dog park to work on some "trust building" exercises. Since he is a rather small dog (20 lbs wet) and would most likely just run out of the way if I fell and try to have him catch me, our trust building exercise consists of walking around the trails of the dog park with his six foot lead dangling from his harness. I let him run around like a banshee and pray that I have enough time to step on the leash and pull him out of any trouble that he is bound to get into.

Because, he most definitely looks for trouble to get into.

For a neutered male, this little mother fucker has got some big balls and if there is something to chase, bark at or roll in, he is generally the first in line not giving a shit about what anyone else has to say about the matter.

"Go on, give me a bath jerk, I am still going to roll in this dead rat!"

Anyways, being a good dog owner, I still to my best and try to build some trust by allowing him to run around, provided he comes when I call him. Scary enough, he generally does come when I call, but then there are times he is too busy doing other shit.

And the other day one of those times happened.

"Brisco..." I had yelled after realizing that I had been contemplating a scenario for my latest post apocalyptic zombie porn tale for a bit too long while looking at the some cool looking apartment buildings that jut out of green mound of El Cerrito's Hill and that I had not seen him fly past me in a while.

"Brisco!" I called again, "where the fuck are you you little turd?" I yelled as I walked further up the grassy embankment to see if perhaps he had met some dogs in the large field that we always play fetch in, but I heard no sign of a squabble that usually comes in his wake so I turned around and looked in the bushes that bordered the ledge that led down to a muddy little beach that looked out across the water at a Costco which lay on the other side.

There he was, standing on the filthy beach staring very intently at a large bird hanging out in the shallow muddy water. I made it about half way down the cliff, screaming his name like bloody murder (which apparently is not a good way to get your dog to come to you), when he decided that the mud look like it might hold him and took off after the bird.

Seeing the little shithead swimming through the mud was quite a site, if the vision of me getting stabbed by my girlfriend for letting our dog drown in mud had not prevented me from laughing, I might have. Instead I scrambled down the path and hoped to cheese and rice that the little bugger did not try to swim over to Costco (although i did need to go there and pick up some shit anyway).

Thankfully, i was all juiced up on a butt load ( literally) espresso from the new espresso machine that my girlfriend has surprised me with as sort of a early Christmas gift (I had been gulping down SO shots of El Salvador Finca La Florida all freaking morning) giving me the ability to race down the hillside and over the beach like the six million dollar man. I was even ready to plunge face first into the muddy water and chase after the little asshole, but thankfully, he struggled his way back onto the beach and I was able to catch up with him, after jumping over a few jagged rocks and random junk that tends to jut out of the peninsula that once was a landfill.

I stepped on his leash before he can make another go at the bird, which seemed to be enjoying the game, and pulled him up to my eye level. I held a liver treat up to him, letting him smell it and then threw it into the muddy water, before dragging is stinky muddy ass home. I actually laughed like an evil villain as I gave gave him a bath. He deserved it, the little turd, but I have a feeling if he had a chance, he would do it all over again.

Grinch is going to a Ween concert

Just finished up doing some internet shopping this weekend.

Tis the season, right?

Bullshit. All of it was for me.

Sure, I thought about looking for some stuff for the fam and other loved ones: Scouring ebay for that perfect lame ass christmas themed sweater, taking an machete to amazon to see if perhaps I can get everyone I know a book or something (i do my best to encourage literacy).

I even (too keep this post some what relevant) contemplated buying up ten elbows of some very very expensive Organic Ethiopian Harar Biftu Genema Coffee and roasting it all up and shipping it out to some of my closest Facebook friends. This was the best fucking coffee I have had the pleasure of roasting up in the last couple months, probably one of the tastiest of the year and ironically one of the priciest. Okay, so its 8 bucks as pound tag is not so bad compared to Kona Coffee, Geshas, or any coffee that comes out of a animals butt, butl when you are looking to buy up a big sack of it, the price can be a bit hard to swallow.

But, still I was ready to do it. Ready to by a whole bunch of this kick ass coffee and roast it all up and ship it off to spread some good old fashioned mother fucking Christmas cheer yo. I was not even going to drink any myself, just ship it all off to everyone I knew, sending the message of peace on earth, goodwill and other shit while blowing away everyones taste buds with the awesomeness that was fresh roast.

Then I found out that Ween was playing in Oakland.

Since it was was already sold out, I had to pay out the ass plus a little more in the form of a convenience fee (fucking convenience fees) to get two tickets on Stub Hub. It was a bundle but its Ween you see and I had to go.

I just had too.

I did buy some coffee from Sweet Marias, but it was just a meager six pounds for personal use, the ten pound monolith was sent to the shopping cart's trash can.

Hey, quit looking at me like that. It was Ween okay, and they only tour once in a while. Besides, I probably would have ended up keeping most of the Harar for myself anyway. Go ahead call me a Grinch. But, this grinch is going to a Ween concert.

>

TUrkey licking Thursday

Hey There Turkey Licker. How is going? Ready for the Big T-Day? I had to get up a little early on this cold ass Thanksgiving morning to get a good start on the candied yams that I promised to bring. I also promised to bring some green bean casserole, but Yesterday, when I went to Trader Joe's it was a flipping madhouse by golly. People were scrambling everywhere like looters in security camera footage grabbing what they could and then getting in line before it got too long. I had made a list of shit I needed, but mob frenzy took over and soon I was in the the midst of them fighting an old lady for the last pumpkin pie sample , dodging kids, scaling walls, grabbing organic sugar pumpkins that I really did not need, and pretty much forgetting about the list altogether; the crunchy onion things, the green beans, the mushrooms and such were completely ignored.

I walked out of that asylum with my large recycled pop bottle bag full of all kinds of shit, but only about half of the things that were on my list. Instead attempting to revisit that terror, I decided to walk over to the Lucky Supermarket instead. Besides, according to the sticker on the organic sugar pumpkin, I needed some condensed milk in order to make a good flippin pie (don't ask me why, but I like using flippin now).

The supermarket was also nuts, which of course it would be on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. Once again my mob mentality took over mixing with the the energy rush I got from the sugar in pumpkin pie sample and I charged through the crowds, grabbing what I thought I needed and getting the flip out of there.

Pie tins check, marshmallows check, oh sweet evaporated milk 10 for 10 bucks, check and mate. I even stop to check to see if they whole nutmeg because Alston Brown from Good Eats says that you should always use fresh ground nutmeg but it turned out to be way to flippin expensive. I did see a Campbells soup green bean casserole display, but my hands were already full, so I hustled my way over to the self checkout where I was forced to wait as two panicked middle aged women did their best to figure out how to get the machine to ring up their produce.

So, the people are just going to have to live with my candied yams and homemade pumpkin pies with un-fresh nutmeg. Also, I had to improvise a little, since the pie recipe called for condensed milk and I got evaporated, but I think it will be okay. I also forgot the whip cream, but I am pretty sure there's a 7-11 along the way. Well thats what I am doing up so early, getting ready to prepare my part of the upcoming feast. Of course, I am also drinking some coffee, a Ethiopian Harar/ India Sanskrit blend that is really rocking and making me wish I had some more of and doing a little writing in my blog.

Oh pooper scooper, look at the time, I really need to get started on those yams. besides the Lions game is almost on, and I need to prepare myself to be scared, hopeful, optimistic and then dissapointed once again.

The little turd

Yesterday Morning, as I was finishing up a pot of India Sanskrit that I had roasted up the day before and doing my best to finish up an article on Dandelion Wine (the drink, not the book). The little turd pictured here was doing his best to bug the living crap out of me. He has this little game he likes to play with me when I am at my computer desk . He takes his nasty "suckle ball" and uses it as a sort of battering ram to force his way through the roll-out keyboard tray and get to my lap.

This suckle ball is a indestructible fluffy white ball that has pretty much been hauled over every filthy square inch of our apartment. When he is not trying his best to tear it apart or dragging through his own filth, he is contentedly suckling on it.

Here is a pic of the nasty thing

I think it is made from recycled plastic bottles or some shit like that.

It smells like dirty dishwater and piss.

So anyway, he dumped the nasty thing on my lap, and then just stood there, giving me that expectant pleading look, that all dogs seem to master. Being busy and in no mood to dick around with his smelly old ball, needing to finish up my article on dandelions , I did my best to avoid his stare, took a sip of my coffee, and continued plodding along on my keyboard. The India Sanskrit brew had gone cold, but still tasted okay, although not as good as the Mysore Nuggets. It was a bit too hearty and Robust like for my taste, but it could have been the P1 roast cycle that I used.

"MMMphhh" Said the little turd, as he danced to and fro and did his best not to bark at me, which would have led to banishment to the living room.

So I took the ball and tossed it, wiped the residual filth off on my pants and continued typing.

This was a mistake.

Because, once engaged in such activity, the little turd naturally assumed that it was playtime. So once again he took the ball and shoved it up through the keyboard rollout and into my lap and once again put on his pained look of expectation. Needing to get some shit done that morning, I sighed and shoved him and the ball back down, only to have him push back up and drop in in my lap. Then just as I was about to take his damn suckle ball throw it out of the room and then shut the door on his ass as he followed it, he stood up with his paws on my knees, did a little shuffle and then promptly farted a long wheezing fart that sounded a bit like a balloon deflating.

What a character this guy is.

Grampa tells a story

Grampa, grampa, Tell me a story!

Fuck Off kid, Grampa's busy eating delicious candy.

But Grampa! Pleassssse? Tell me a story and I wont stab you with a screwdriver anymore.

Oh, all right....

Once upon the time in a enchanted kitchen across the hallway their was this Magical Roaster that, through the transforming power of heat, helped turned special beans into the greatest elixir that all of history has ever known . Behmor 1600 was its name, an it was truly a very, very special machine.

Grampa, you are not going to talk about coffee again are you?

Do you want a fucking story or not kid? Now, eat some candy and listen to my tale.

So anyway, the mighty little Behmor was truly a magical machine that the kitchen creatures could not live without. However, when it came to loading in the virginal green beans into the sacred wire roasting drum, properly sealing it and placing it in the sacrificial alter to be slowly turned and burned and transformed, great care needed to be taken by the head roasting genie to make sure that everything was safe and working and shit. Otherwise great calamity could come to all the kitchen forest creatures.

Grampa, are talking about last week when you were roasting up an 11 oz batch of Papua New Guinea Peaberry and failed to properly place the drum in the holding notch and then forgot to double check to make sure it turned ok before turning on the roaster and going back to writing your post apocalyptic zombie porn tales only to have the drum fall off the spindle thing a few minutes into the roast and spill the beans all over the chaff collector?

Umm maybe, but hey, I threw in magical creatures and virgin sacrifices and stuff. What the fuck do you want from me kid?

Well, you told me that story already. So tell me another one.

Once upon a time in the magical subtropic mountain forests of India, there was this special tree with magical cherries...

The Results of the The Scary Pumpkin carving competition between my girl-fiend and myself. Mine is on the right carved in the traditional triangle scary style. It had cool looking demon ears, but my dog ate them before I could take a pic. The demented one on the left is hers. The one in the middle is our dogs, who is surprisingly handy with a knife.

Halloween Chili

As much as I love coffee,there are some things that it does not go with. Chili and taco bell are too good examples. I do not know how many times I have done the latter to myself and have suffered the dire consequences of out of control bladder explosions. Thankfully, my seven years of working two blocks away from a Starbucks and Taco Bell (7 fucking years now, really?) have made me a bit immune to the old taco buck cha cha's.

Chili is another story. Especially my special Halloween chili, which is a bubbly oozing mass of beans, meat, spices, and five different peppers, including the ultra rare scary pepper that comes from deep within the jungles of a whole other continent somewhere. Too much of the scary pepper can make you shit yourself, like you just saw a ghost, hence its name. I only add one or two of these bad boys to a whole pot.

I know better than to ever mix my coffee obsession with a bowl of my Halloween chili. I know that if I do, I might end up looking like my friend Pierre here. Pierre just did not want to listen to me. I told not to mix the two, but the motherfucker was too lazy to cook up some eggs and toast. It had been a crazy night of trick or treating and sacrificing virgins to the goat god, and Pierre might have been just a little hung over to realize the danger he was getting himself into. He should have fucking listened to me.

I guess i could have gotten off the couch and swatted the bowl of bubbling death and liquid acid out of his hands, but I was also a bit wrecked from a evening of overindulging in the big batch I had brought over to the sacrifical rites pot luck that our neighborhood was having. The cup of El Salvadorian Wet Process I had brewed up in my Chemex was doing a number on my guts, and it had taken several bong hits to calm it. Still, I should have done something other than yell, "Pierre, what the fuck are you doing? That combination is going to make your guts explode dude," without barely looking away from the Wii game that I was halfassedly playing.

I will have to live with that forever.

I will also have to live with Pierre for a while. His exploding bits got all over my kitchen and it is going to be a nightmare to clean it all up. I might even have to move now. I just hope the cops do not ask me about the hefty trash bags I left on the curb.

Happy Halloween everyone.

On Gays in the military

I was sitting here, sipping on my Rwanda FTD India Robusta blend, checking out the latest news and shit when I came across a blurb about Gays in the military. While I did not actually read the story, nor do I remember what exactly the little news flash said, I must say that I am in full support of Gays in the military. I think that anyone who has big enough balls (that applies to both genders in a metaphorical sense) to put their life on the line for this country has the right to be whoever they are.

Besides, nothing is hotter than two chicks, armed to the teeth, making out in the the middle of hostile territory. I saw a movie like that once, it was called GI Janes or something. Or maybe I just imagined it. Anyway, those chicks were not only hot, but they kicked some major ass.

Whats that?

Oh...

Well, that kind of make sense too, with the nice uniforms, the whole dress code and "neat" thing. Yeah, i can see that. Well, thats great too, although I do not want to imagine what that movie would be like (GI Joes, or perhaps Joe's GI tract?).

Anyway, about the coffee....

I had about 8 oz left of the Rwanda FT Dukunde Kawa Musasa and I was torn as what to do with it.I thought briefly about just roasting up the 8 oz on the Behmor's half pound setting, but decided against it because thanks to the crappy power in my building. I had difficulty getting even 6 oz just dark enough for my taste. I really did not want to make a small batch that would leave me hanging by Monday, and I did not want to try to cheat and roast the 8oz on a full pound setting (10 is as low as I allow myself to go).

I figured that maybe I should do a little blending experiment. After fishing around in my cabinet, I found some India Robusta that I had laying around. Dark, dense, chalky and chocolaty, I thought it just might go well with the flowery Rwandan FTD, so I threw in 3 oz of it and burned up the first and only batch of the " Robo Rwandan". I say first and only, because this mixture was pretty much a failed experiment. The Robusta ratio is way to big giving the coffee to dark of a overtone that made drinking the full batch these past couple of days a bit of a challenge.

This morning however, as I was gazing at this hot pic and thinking about gays in the military, this blend actually tasted better then the previous pots. Perhaps, because I had made it very strong, almost espresso like, or maybe the five days of sitting in the bag finally mellowed it out enough to allow the two beans to mingle.

Speaking of Mingling Beans

Perhaps time has finally mellowed this nation's ass backwards stance on who is and is not worthy of serving and protecting their country.

Guinea pig

Go Green!

Go White!

Sorry had to say that. It is looking like a big year for Sparty. Of course, retail being my other gig, I have only gotten to watch one game of theirs. It was the classic against Notre Dame, and I nearly shit my pants on that final play. It would have been nice to see them stomp on their little BLUE sister's throat. But, gloating about it is just as good. Still the upcoming battle against Iowa, is almost enough to make me consider getting one of those case of the Mondays to casual Fridays jobs that the rest of my fellow MSU alum have gotten.

So anyhow, here I am, up in the wee Sunday Morning Hours, sipping on some El Salvador Manzano Process Experiment Wet and quietly watching whatever Michigan State football porn that I can get my hands on. This week's game was against the lowly Illini, and all the sports sites are jerkin each other off about the way Bucky the Badger cornholed the Buckeyes to say anything about Sparty. Still, I will take what I can get.

As for the coffee...

Being a sucker for learning and shit, I decided that I could not pass up on this opportunity to taste the same coffee processed three different ways. You see, just like tuna and kittens, there is more than just one way to process coffee and each process brings its own flavor profile to the bean....yada yada yada...

So anyway, this past Wednesday, I roasted up three separate 6 oz batches of Manzano Wet, Dry and Pulp Natural and have been giving each a initial swirl around my old taste buds. The last of the Wet that I am drinking this morning as I look for Sparty action, tastes better on four days rest than it did the second day. It is clean and bright and lemony, a good Sunday morning cup. Since the crack did not come until the very last allowed minute of the P1 roast cycle, I was worried that this one was be to green tasting for me. But it tastes just fine today.

My favorite ended up being the Natural Dry Process, which I got to a bit darker roast with a bit of tweaking with the Behmor. This one was so good that I ended up swilling it down in two days, while letting the other two "rest". I will have to make sure to ration out the next batch, so I have some for next Sunday, when I get up early to catch some more college football porn when Sparty takes on a Wildcat.

expletive good

Sip,

FUCK, that is Good.Now, I remember why I prefer fresh roasted coffee over that other crap.

I am sipping on some Rwanda, dunder blunder mother jumucker, or whatever Sweet Marias likes to call it.

Hang on, let me go check out their site and get its full legal name, now do a little copy and paste action: Rwanda FT Dukunde Kawa Musasa. Yeah, thats the stuff. While, it makes blogging about it a bit of a pain in the ass, I kind of like how the folks at SM like to give all of their beans very specific names, it really makes you feel like you are drinking something that is really mother fucking special. Of course this comes from a guy who named his dog Brisco Horseshoe Tiberius. And this Rwanda FT Donkey Karat Massuga is very mother fucking special indeed. It tastes so fucking good, that all I can do right now is silently swear to myself and talk about how mother fucking good it really is.

I roasted12 OZs of this Rwanda FTD (which is what I call it in my log) in my Behmor on the P3 level for 20:45. This got me a nice Full City roast. Tom from SM ranted on about how great this one fucking tasted at the lightest levels, but I am too afraid of having them come out overly assy grassy not to cook them a bit longer into the first crack. To me, there is nothing worse than grassy tasting coffee. Since it is a Behmor I be roasting with, even the darkest roasts that I can manage are nothing even close to French or Vienna, so I am pretty sure that the end result was still light enough to bring out the "sweet accents" of the roast.

In fact, I think Rwanda FTD is a pretty good fucking name for it, since it does have a flowery mouth feel to it. When I swish it in my mouth and let it roll over all of me taste buds, I am transported to a Japanese tea garden, one with beautiful smelling flowers, little bonzai trees, koi ponds and shit. I do not know why this coffee makes me think about sitting in a garden and writing haikus about flowers all day long, but it does.

So Fucking good.

kotex coffee

Here is a video of a friend of mine slapping the squares in the face with a bit of mind blowing performance art.

Wow huh?

I wonder if in a pinch you can use kotex to brew up some coffee? Like you were out camping or something and had nothing else around except for what you find in your girlfriends purse.Ideally you would want an unused, but if you find one in the trash and wash it off... Hey thats roughing it.

Hmmm, thinking about it I guess it probably would not work since kotex are meant to absorb liquid and what you really need in order to make a good cup of coffee is something that lets the juice through but not gunk. I mean I guess you could just squeeze the coffee out of the feminine napkin after letting immerse for a while, but you would probably get a lot of sediment in his cup. It would just be a big bloody mess.

Sorry I could not help myself.

Sometimes, you gotta

Hi there folks...

Just got back from Vegas and over a cold.

Fun Times

I knew that i was in trouble, the day before we left when my throat starting hurting.

By the time I was dangling 900 feet over the strip on the thrillscreamexxtremintensometer or whatever that ride on the Stratosphere was called, my head was stuffed like Tijuana Donkey Show and I was coughing like one of those 63 year old cigarette smoking slot jockeys that you see everywhere on the lower strip.

I took zinc, I took vitamin C, I drank Juice, I drank Whiskey...

I even went to CVS and bought a pack of the good cold medicine. You know, the stuff you need to go up to the pharmacy counter and give them your ID in order to get so they can put you in a database and keep an eye on you just in case you happen to be whipping up a batch of glass for your friends and family.

Yeah, that stuff.

None of that other pussy ass shit with its weak ass non-meth-amphetamine-friendly making chemical formulas really does it for me. It is like trying to start your morning with a cup of mother fucking Nescafe. I need the real hard core shit and I don't give a rat's patooty if it puts me on the list.

Bring it. I got Nothing to Hide!

Just don't look in that chest in my closet.

Speaking of Nescafe...

Vegas must pretty much be the Starbucks capital of the Universe. When i got my room key, the guys instructions were: "Okay now take a right at that Starbucks you see there until you come to another Starbucks, then take a left to elevator 3A."

I could not help but stifle a congested filled laugh.

On practically every casino floor, the green lady was there with her 3 dollar coffees and 6 dollar coffee flavored drinks. It seems that caffeine is becoming the new nicotine for Sin City.

And yes I drank it.

Unlike previous trips, where I would roast up a batch, grind it and take it with me along with my Smart Brew, my green coffee cache was down to the nitty gritty I was too busy cranking out stories for my new porn blogging gig to log onto SM and fill it back up.

You see, Sometimes you gotta go to the Bucks.

Especially since it was the only show in town.

Sipping coffee, writing, and spooning

Here I am at 5:47 in the AM, sipping coffee: a El Salvador Siberian Estate Pacamara. It is pretty much what remains of a 12 ounce batch that I roasted up in my Behmor last Wednesday and, like me, it has only gotten better with age.

At first, I was not really digging this Pacma from Siberia, not as much as the bourbon bean that came from the same farm last year, but I think that was because I was not letting it rest properly. This time, I still had some of that mistaken mexican left over, so the Siber-Pac had to sit a few days.

Being able to rest a few days is a rare feat for a coffee in the hands of a serious addict like me. Most roasts do not make it past day three of four (unless they really sucked), but this one made it almost a full week. And here it is tasting its best on day 6.

This gives me something to think about.

This ends my little morning writing session.

Now it is time for spooning.

Doesn't that feel nice?

Pirhanas meet Mexico

I'm sitting here sipping on some rather cool and a bit watered down mislabeled Mexico Organic Terruno Nayarita from my Sweet Maria's stash and thinking about the movie Pirhana 3D and its chances of winning an Oscar for best picture. I cannot believe no one is taking this picture seriously, I thought it was a gleefulyl glorious masterpiece.

The Nayarita that I am drinking as I ponder was sent to me in the guise FTO Chiapas-Reserve El Truifino due some apparent mishap at the company's Oakland based warehouse. I hope no one got hurt. They sent me a e-mail notifying me of the egregious error that they made in sending me the wrong organic mexican green coffee beans and have even offered to send me a bag of the Chiapas Reserve beans free of charge. I knew something was up with these beans so I am glad SM sent me a message to clear things up. I remember tasting this coffee which I roasted in my Behmor at P1 until deep into the second crack and thinking " now these are definitely not from the Chiapas reserve".

Yeah right, if only I was that big of a coffee nerd to now the difference.

Someday perhaps

Back to Pirhana 3D.

This movies seriously kicked some major ass. It had babes, boobs and booty all in 3D, it had buckets of blood, a severed penis, and some of the funniest deaths ever filmed. It was also clever in that dead pan wink, wink nudge nudge sort of way that made it a joy to watch. Yet despite the glowing reviews from would be critics like me, the movie seems destined for early video release. Hopefully then it will find the audience and acclaim that it deserves.

Now back to Mexican Coffee

Since I like the Nayarita and I am not a big enough coffee nerd to think that the folks over at Sweet maria's duped me into drinking the wrong organic Mexican coffee, i feel a bit guilty in making them ship me a free bag of the other Mexican coffee that I had originally selected when I was browsing their site. However, the cheap Yooper in me finds it hard not to take them up on their free bag.

Now back to the movie

So what if the cameraman played by the one guy from The Daily Show just disappears without an explanation, this movie is still at least twice as clever as Avatard. It might even give Inception a run for its money. Dream within a dream within a dream within yet another dream. Come on.

Okay, that might be going a bit too far. Inception is also a pretty damn good movie.

Bosty Beans

Causing restlessness, hyperactivity, snarling, barking, and jitters, Coffee Beans should not be a regular part of a Dog's diet.

If you think your dog has been eating any rogue coffee beans that do not make it from your stash to your roaster, keep a good eye on his poop.

You might find yourself with a golden goose. if people are willing to shell out hundreds of dollars for cat poop coffee. How much could I get for Bosty Beans I wonder?

holy Fuck, has it been that long?

Sitting Here , sipping on some Costa Rica Chirripo Finca Alaska that I roasted last Thurs. I had originally bought it because it happened to have Alaska in its name along with a somewhat decent review by Tom at SM, and it has gone on to be one of the standout beans of the summer. It has a real smooth taste out of both the Chemex and Smart Drip Brewers. Chalk butter chocolate with a hint of grapenuts. I need to be sure to stock up on some of this one before it disappears from Sweet Maria's Warehouse. This was what already happened to some Kenyas I really like this past spring, not to mention the Tanzanian Blackburn Estate from last year. As soon as I discovered them, the suckers were already gone from the shelves.

Not that I want to over do it either

Like I did last summer when I bought ten freaking pounds of the Brazilian Mogiana, only to get sick of it by mid winter. I finally ended up finishing it off this spring when I was too broke to do any more big coffee purchases.

Hey What the Fuck?

So its just like that huh? You go away for 6 months leaving behind nothing but a shitty blog on how much you hated Avatard, and then you come back with a casual blog about some fucking coffee like you have been posting everyday?

Where the hell have you been?

Oh, um hey there coffeeporn... yeah sorry about that. It is just that with moving, getting a dog and trying to focus on my writing career, I did not have any time too post anything new. Also, haven't found the time to totally keep up with my obsession. Heck, I have even found myself buying some beans from Peets a couple of times because I could not find the time to roast some up.

Well shit brother, you need to make time for Coffeeporn! I remember when we was tight. when something showed up on me every other day.

I know, I know. Hey, I am sorry. I will try to make some time. I mean, listen I will do my best to come up with some new stories for you that involve my favorite subjects of both coffee and porn. I promise.

I mean, I am not askin for a full on serious relationship, just throw me a few bones once in a while.

I promise I will.

AVATARD3D

Okay, So curiosity finally got the best of me....

With all of its Box Office Records and its shoe in as the Academy Award Winner (Yes it will win), I finally took out a small business loan and went to the movies to get all AVATARD3D in here.

Me and the GF had been resisting the James "king of the world" Cameron feature, finding the previews of poorly drawn blue people flying around on Pterodactyls just not our cup of coffee despite the promises of multiple orgasms via totally awesome 3d imagery.

I already knew Cameron to be bit of a one story line type of director ( see Kevin Costner) and figured the movie would be rife with horrible dialog, over simplified relationships between the characters, and awesome action sequences featuring aliens or robots, or both. Yet, most people that I talked to said it was worth the 15 bucks and and the cool graphics more than made up for the crap filled plot and dialog.

So anyways, we battled the wind and the rain, paid our small fortune, got our 3d shades and got ready to witness the juggernaut that is Avatar.

Waterlogged

"Well, that wasn't too awful," I said to myself at the urinal immediately following the movie. I think, however, that I was referring to the Cameron pee curse more than the movie. This curse last struck me 13 years ago during the premier of Titanic, where my desperate need to urinate totally ruined the whole sinking of the boat and the drowning of Leo. I still shudder when I think about the damage probably done to my kidneys that night. This time, I was smart enough to tinkle before the movie started, and sipped my coffee sparingly. The sprinkles still came just when the fight between the blue indians and white guys was really heating up, but I was able to hold on comfortably enough until the end credits.

Still, it wasn't too bad...

Okay, i must admit that the movie was not that bad. The 3d shit was pretty cool even if my fucking 3d glasses kept slipping off my own glasses (they really should make 3d goggle for people with glasses) . When I did get the glasses to sit right, the imagery was rich and actually popped out at you. I really liked how they got all the little pieces of crap to float around, making you feel like you were right in the midst of the action as the mean capitalists blew the crap out of the blue people ewok inspired tree home.

I also need to admit that the lithe blue chick kind of turned me on. With those high perky breasts and exposed midriff along with the sexy little cat tail, I can see why the hero wanted to take a little dip into the alien honey pot. Perhaps its a statement of my own weird kinks, but I will not be surprised when bootlegged 3d Na'Vi porn starts showing up in places I like to occasionally visit.

As time goes by...

However, the more I dwell on it, the more I just cannot get past all the negative aspects of this movie. Here is my list of the things I disliked...

1. The Cost
2. The Avatarded Plot
3. The Avatarded Dialog
4. The creepy smile that Sigourney Weaver's Avatar had
5. The story by committee way the world of Pandora was built
6. Unobtainium

While you can appreciate the effort Cameron put in to planning the world of Pandora down to the last floating tree spore, having input from so many experts on how an alien world should look, and how alien people should talk makes Pandora a bit discombobulated. It might have been better if only one visionary had a hand in its creation. The plot itself is a rip off of Dances with Wolves and the dialog is more awkward then getting stuck in a elevator with old Japanese Couple. If it was not for the cool graphics and the James Cameron stamp, this movie would be destined for the scrap heap.

brisco horseshoe tiberius cates erickson

Beany's hurting

Poor Beany,

She is not looking to hot right now. Like she has just spent the last month snorting crystal meth and getting dp'ed by a pack Frat Boys. Her leaves are all droopy, brown and wrinkled, as if they belong in a 1970's era National Geographic magazine. Even her new growth is looking like crap.

I don't know what I did wrong...

She might have gotten cold, or perhaps the low humidity of the very un tropical bay area is fucking with her look. I tried taking a shower with her last night, letting her soak up the steamy heat as I washed my hair, scrubbed my back and touched myself as I cried gently beneath the steaming cascade of water that washed away my sticky tears.

This performance did nothing for her.

Perhaps it is more than just the cold dry winter...

There was that incident with the heater that damaged her on one side, forcing me to give her a little trim. After the trim, she seemed a bit lopsided, so I did a bit more trimming. All this cutting might of shocked her. I also may have been sprinkling her with too much of my self made fertilizer water (not a sexual innuendo, but a reference to bong water). I might of threw her PH off, and not I need to get her the plant equivalent of Vagisil. It also might be some sort of fungus.

It might be because, like OBGYN's during the Bush Administration, I might have "practiced my love" on beany a bit too much this winter. I have been giving her a lot of love in the form of steady light and waterings. Perhaps I need to lay off a bit and she will spring back.

A few good movies

Great goddamn do I love Netflix!

Now that I got me one of those fancy blue disc players that streams all of the Flix online movies, I got it made in the shade brother. So, the selection could be a bit broader, especially in the television show choices, it is still nice to turn a piece of crap off and have to wait 3 business days to get something else. Sure, it would be nice if that also had porn available, but maybe it is a good thing that they do not.

Anyways, here is one movie that I was glad that my girlfriend put on the list...

Nick and Nora's infinite playlist

Starring Micheal Cera and that girl who was the daughter of the gilf in the 40 Year Old Virgin.

Sure Micheal Cera pretty much play the same character in every movie, but so did Charlie Chaplin. He also usually picks funny, well thought out movies the exemplifies his role as a nervous, nerdy white boy. This movie is as much about the soundtrack as it is a funny teen romantic comedy that is much smarter than the previews let on.

Another great movie, that was not available for online viewing but was worthy of a three day wait was 500 Days of Summer. Okay, So I have a bit of a school girl crush on Zooey D, but that is not why this movie is good. In fact, Summer is a bit of a moody bitch in the movie, which is not a romantic comedy, but more of a getting over love lost comedy that has a poignant message about love and loss. The one kid with three names from 3rd Rock is another young actor who always seems to pick great movies.

What the hell is his name?

Oh well, I am sure i will rmeber it later on.

Jazz Junky

"Yeah, this guy definitely is a roaster, " Agent RonaldShamansky said as he examined the perps counter top.

It had all the telltale paraphenalia of a serious jazz junkie. The converted rotisserie oven. The handmaid wire roasting drums. The "postal scale". The roast log. the big fucking bag of high grade coffee beans from Rwanda. Very illegal stuff, probably secretly smuggled into the country up the ass of some poor drug mule.

"Yah, Yah Think he is big time?" Mac, replied his smug Canadian Counterpart. The roaster was big enough to burn up a whole pound of beans at time and the guy apparently had enough of stash to get the whole goddam High Scool Hopped up.

"NO," Shamansky said, " He got a lot of stuff, but it is some of the best shit I heard of." He looked the the bags, all carefully labeled. He saw a five pound baggy labeled "Tanzanian Estate Pea Berry" and a small cloth bag with "Brazilian Yellow Caterra" stenciled on it. Some of the stuff he had never even heard of in his ten years in CLEAN.

"Good shit eh?' Mac said as he ruminated upon this fact, " think he is just a connoisseur huh?"

"Yup" Agent Ron conceded. Everyone knew that if you were going to make dirt, you use the cheap beans like the Vietnamese Shwag, or the cheap Brazilian Robusta. While some high class dirt heads professed to a better buzz when their shit was made with primo beans, any chemist could tell that the source of the various chemicals to make dirt did not really matter.

"Just a poor fella on the jazz juice?" Mac asked

"Yup" Ron said as he put a marijuana cigarette to his lips and lit up.

"Still, " He continued after he took a long slow pull. "He might know something." Anybody who can get shit this good, had to know somebody worth finding out about. "Lets make sure to have him properly processed."

"As soon as we catch the fella.." Mac replied as he reached outside the doorway and came back with giant can of gasoline.

"Even though we got em with his pants down, the fella managed to get away". He said as began to slosh the gasoline all over the roaster and beans.

"MMrmmm," Agent Shamansky replied as he puffed on his cigarette and watched Mac douse the room. They had busted the guy when he was in the middle of screwing the Landlady's daughter. Even, with the his pants down his ankles, the guy had managed to wrestle free of the local authorities and escape down the fire escape. He was now at large, with a APB out for a tall, half naked pervert hopped up on jazz juice.

"I am sure that it will only be a matter of time." Shamansky said as he finished his joint and flicked the red hot roach into the gasoline soaked pile of coffee stuff.

caught sippin

That's right baby,

The Fox likes the coffee.

Here she is all dressed down with a big steamy cup of the java juice grasped firmly within her hot little hands. She probably got it to counteract the little wake and bake session she had before going to the set of her latest film which has her playing Queen Elizabeth at the height of her powers. Okay, she is really playing a gun toting southern call girl, or a angel winged circus freak or something, but there can be no doubt about it....

Megan Fox likes her coffee.

She has about a billion pics of her floating around cyberspace and and seems about half of them show her holding a cup of the ol' jazzy juice. Of course, further research might be needed to find out whether she drinks the real shit or she prefers some froo froo latte drink. The fact that she is not seen walking around with one of those giant starbucks slurpee cups is a good sign that she indeed may be one of us.

Speaking of the Fox

The girlfriend and I finally got around to watching Transformers 2 "the rise of the Machines" or whatever. What a boring piece of crap that turned out to be. Sure Megan got to look sexy in some scenes but the movie was just two and half hours of predictable plot twists and hard to follow Micheal Bay action sequences. I really do not understand how this was the biggest movie of the summer. Thats the viewing public for you, easily suckered by a gimmick. Just look at Avatar. District 9 has my vote for the best new action film to come out this past year. It was a clever original story that still delivered heaping helpings of action and gore.

look next time

I was doing my best to roast a bunch of coffee up for my folks and send it to them for christmas. I already had a 12 oz batch of the RGN and some decaf for the ol man prepared when I decided to roast some Tanzanian Blackburn Estate PB as well.

I got it all set up and let er crank.

A minute passed by, and I noticed a peculiar smell emanating from the Behmor. It smelt a little on the asphalt side. My hand hovered on the off button as I looked inside, even opening the door for a better peek. Nothing seemed wrong so I let it go. Perhaps I just needed to clean the thing better, or maybe some rogue burlap strings had somehow snuck their way in, whatever the reason, I figured "wait and see" was the best policy. So I let the puppy run its cycle and made a note about the funny rope burning smell in my roast log.

The smell got worse.

I thought about shutting it down but looking at the beans again, everything seemed fine. Then, the smell of the roasting coffee began to overtake the funky chemical burning smell as it started pop its way to a finish. I saw this as a sign that everything was all honky dory.

The cooling cycle kicked in and the the funky chemical smell once again returned as the Behmor Coffee Roaster pumped out the rest of the heat through its catalytic converter. "Interesting,"I thought. I let the coffee cool as I washed some clothes then came back to pull the beans and stick em in a food saver bag for shipment to the UP eh?(My folks happen to live in Northern Michigan)

That was when i discovered the brush sitting on the bottom of the roasting chamber. It seems that I had forgotten to take it out before roasting. I do know why I would have even left the sucker in the roast chamber in the first place, but there it was,sitting at the bottom of the behmor, still smoldering.

The brush had actually stood up well to the 400 plus degree roasting temperatures, only singeing about 1/3 of the way through. The coffee seemed fine too, probably because the brush was lying right next to the exhaust vent. It did leave a nasty tar stain on the bottom of the roaster and who knows what damage it did to the filter.

Anyway, I still use the brush, but now I am sure to double check before roasting just in case i decide for some reason to leave the chaff brush on the bottom again.

happy new year

Just a little note for those who like to read my other site: homecoffeeroasters.today.com, Apparently the Today company decided to fuck around with their site and I can no longer access my blog control panel. Then again, no big loss, I was personally kind of sick of all their rules regarding advertisements and self promotion. From now on, it will be all coffeeporn all the time baby. I may not make any scratch from the ads, but at least I will have total control as to what i put on here.

And as for self promotion...

I am currently still kind of working on my other site coffeelocity.com that I purchased from GoDaddy. I am still not sure what to do with it, but for now I think I will just make it a sort of coffee fact emporium. I am hoping someday to sell freshly roasted coffee through it, but I still need to work out the logistics. My attempt to roast everyone coffee for the holidays made me realize that the whole using the behmor as a commercial roaster is not really feasible. But, someday I may have enough money to invest in something a little bigger. So until then, I think I will just stick to writing about roasting coffee and not try to sell it for the moment anyway.

Speaking about writing about coffee

I recently roasted up some good stuff from Sweet Marias including El Salvador Finca Kilimanjaro (which i am drinking at this moment) and a Brazil Daterra Farms Sweet Yellow. The Finca Killa turned out to be great, with a brewing smell that is a bit reminiscent of the India Ahnoki. It even gave off a fragrant smoke while roasting. I roasted my first 1lb batch for 23:30 on a p3 setting, and then tried it 24:00 at a P4. I think the latter turned out a little bit better. The Sweet yellow, really grabbed my attention and made me go "damn! this is a great cup of coffee." I regret only buying a pound and hope that there is still some left when I go back to SM for a refill. I am glad that I chose to roast the Yellow in 8 oz batches since the taste seems to rapidly degrade after 3 or 4 days.

Pounding them out

While the behmor is capable of roasting a whole elbow at time, which is great when you are putting together gifts or roasting for the full week, it does tend to smoke you out of house and home a bit. In fact, I haven't even bothered to put the battery back in my smoke detector in my living room since i will just need to rip it out again next time I roast. It is also harder to store a full pound of beans as opposed to a smaller batch. I have a bunch of half pound degassing bags that I use, and it turns out to be a hassle to try to divide everything up. I also have a tendency to spill beans all over the place. The Food Saver freeze and steam bags work great but they cost a bit and are not reusable.

Well, that is all I have to say about coffee today. Have a good 2010