I Brew, therefore I am...pissed alot.

I make Beer now. Bow down and gaze up in wonder, mortal non-brewing types! I have joined the brotherhood of the Brewers, and it is good. As we speak, or as I write as the case just happens to be, my next Beer (note the capital B, none of this mass-produced beer [lower case b] here thank you very much) is about to start its mystic journey from common water, hops, yeast and a can of Brewmaster India Pale Ale (IPA to us in the know, nod nod, wink wink) into the transendental state of Beer.

It's very much like how in Lord Of The Rings a bunch of Hobbits, Elves, Dwarves, Men and an Old Guy get together to Save The World. Of course it all falls apart about half way through episode 1 whereas my coming together of disimilar elements will make Beer and not be beset by trolls and goblins and another Old Guy making mischief. Still, the correlation is a strong one as I'm sure you can see. In the end it's good Beer all round and people dance and get happy and fall over.

Busy, busy, busy

I'm looking for a house to buy, getting geared up for a three week holiday, brewing beer, drinking beer, helping Mel repave around the house and generally doing much stuff. I have lots to write about and bugger all time to do it. I hardly get on the PC these days. Oh and I bought a new printer/scanner/copier.

Today is Valentine's Day. I consider it a gratuitous wank created by Hallmark and Interflora to waste my money. Fuck you both you corporate leeches...I'll just have to suck up to Mel another way since I have no card or flowers. I'll cook dinner and add that special ingredient - love. But she'll probably prefer flowers. Fuck it.

Fuck is such a great word. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuckity Fuck, fuck.

I'm going now, time to self medicate.

Catch you later...Fuck.