Post-Noon Seminar update

Unlike my last research talk, I managed to get through all of my slides without saying the word "crotch" today. At least I don't think I did; I blank out a lot when I'm speaking. The Sciencette doesn't remember any crotch dropping, so I guess we can believe her.

What I was unable to do was not ramble on about a bunch of ridiculous stuff. My boss makes me practice my talks at least once before the big day, but no matter how many times I practice, when GO TIME hits, new shit pops out. Today, I went off on a tangent about how learning the biochemistry of a protein complex was like getting to know a woman.

Yeah, it just gets worse from there. I'm told I ended with some kind of comment about how if you keep a woman happy she'll make you pie.

I guess I'm the kind of guy that women's rights activists would like to kick in the crotch. Oh well, at least I didn't tell Julia to, "get her bitch-ass back in the kitchen and make me some pie," a la Cartman.

Hillbillary Clinton

Go here, it's amazing.

Stoudt's Microfest and the secret to eternal life

I've been meaning to write about this all week since I got back, but there's always something else taking up my time. Anyway, instead of preparing for my Noon Seminar today, I figured I'd write a small tome about the fest. It's billed on their website as:

Stoudt’s knows how to throw a party and has been doing so since 1991, the first year of the Great Eastern Invitational Microbrewery Festival. We will host various breweries from around the country. The event is held in our spacious courtyards and Brewery Hall. With taster glass in hand, attendees stroll from one table to the next sampling some of the best craft brews that the industry has to offer. Another well-known part of this festival is Ed’s “Best of the Wurst” German style buffet. Included in this are German sausages, pasta salad, German potato salad, red cabbage and six different varieties of Eddie’s homemade bread. New Band Born Cross-Eyed will play the August 25th festival.

Breweries & Brews

• Church Brew Works - Pious Monk Dunkel & Thunderhop IPA
• Clipper City Brewing Co. - Loose Cannon & Hang Ten
• Cricket Hill Brewing Co. - East Coast Lager & Hopnotic IPA
• Erie Brewing Co. - Railbender & Mad Anthony's
• Great Divide Brewing Co. - Samurai Ale & Hercules Double IPA
• High Point Brewing Co. - Ramstein Hefeweizen & Amber Lager
• North Coast Brewing Co. - Red Seal & Brother Thelonious Ale
• Rock Bottom (KOP) - Munich Gold & Penn's Curse
• Rogue Ales-Oregon Brewing Co. - Dead Guy & Brutal Bitter
• Stoudt Brewing Co. - Weizen & Joe's Saison (brewer's reserve)
• Union Barrel Works - Wobbly Bob (Kolsch) & Doppel Bock
• Victory Brewing Co. - Festbier & Hop Devil IPA

• 
  

but it's more awesome than they can describe.Anyway, I jumped in the old Escape early Saturday morning and made the drive to Shannon's house in Greencastle. I got stuck behind every kind of slow driver imaginable (kill!), but I eventually made it. I made it to an empty house...

I thought that mofo had played a trick on me and left early, but it turns out that Shan-Diesel was just out picking up his brother and friend Scott for the fest. Well, eventually we all gathered, gassed up, and hit the road for Stoudt's.

We got there early to check into our hotel, grab some Chinese lunch, and take the afternoon brewery tour hosted by none other than Ed Stoudt himself. A few note on the tour: Ed likes what he does, I mean, he really likes it (good for him); Ed drinks 6-7 beers a day (that he admits to) from his two kegerators; Ed thinks that macrobrews suck taint, but he'd rather you drank them than anything foreign; according to recent science, Ed claims that his beer/hop intake will make him live longer than you.

Wow. After all that, it was maybe 4 PM and the Microfest didn't start until 7...so we bought a case of beer and promptly drank at least half of it. Then we jumped on the shuttle bus and headed for a liver-destroying good time.

The souvenir glass they give you is tiny but mighty. You can get it filled as many times as you want, and we did just that. Lower estimates of beer consumption put us in the neighborhood of 15 regular-sized beers each. Except for Kris Brown who double-fisted his way to immortality.At some point during these shenanigans, I saw Ed Stoudt walking around and decided to accost him. I thanked him for the informative brewery tour, told him his beer was excellent, and then he told me the secret to eternal life...

Sourdough pancakes.

I still get excited just typing it. Ed said that he lost 20 lbs (after previously telling everyone that beer bellies didn't exist) by eating sourdough pancakes. His theory is that consuming anything that's been fermented is the healthiest damn thing you can do. I wouldn't be surprised if he has colonies of super-yeast growing all over his body. He's basically a Highlander now. Unless you cut off his head, he'll never die.

i'm going to heaven

last night as i was leaving work and driving up 7th street here in richmond to get on i95, something strange happened. i did my usual driving techniques, ie darting in and around the fucktard buses that piss me off (oh, and the people who ride them) and trying not to hit those people that don't understand the crosswalk signs. i'm right beside the richmond colliseum on 7th st., there's a parking deck across the street from the collisuem and some traffic lights that are very much out of place. there is a man on a motorcycle directly in front of me and in front of him, about 3 cars. for some reason that taint-lick in the front car decides to stop for no apparent reason. the asshole lights weren't red, no one was trying to make a break from the parking garage. no, this ass face with the crackjack license just decides to stop. normally this whole incident pisses me off because i hate stupid people (you know who you are), but i'll tell you, i think the guy on the motorcycle in front of me was even more pissed off. you see, he laid down his $30K+ brand spanking new harley on the pavement. now, i'm not talking, just lay it over on it's side. no, i'm talking swerving back and forth skidding, along the pavement, sparks flying everywhere. it was a pretty fucked up scene...like something you see on those crazy video shows on the t.v.

being the good mountain yeti that i am, i block two lanes of traffic and get out and help the man. we wrassled his bike up and moved it to the side of the rode. i think at this point he was still in shock. the bike looked like hamburger...broken pieces, dents and scrapes. once we got it to the side of the road, he shook my hand, i got in my truck and i drove off.

i'm convinced that this one act i did, will atone for at least a year and a half of assholery...probably not.

Mass transit and the legend of swamp piss.

I take the bus to and from work just about every day. Previously, I've written about how amazing PAT buses are with their surly drivers and sideshow freak passengers. Usually all of the shenanigans happen on the trip home after a long day though. The legend of swamp piss came to life at 6:00 AM.

When you take an early bus, it's usually not too full, and it has the same people on it day after day, so you start to recognize them. There's one old black lady (OBL) that's on my morning bus. She's got grey cornrows and has that sunken-in old person mouth thing going. Do you know what I'm talking about? It's like they've lost most of their teeth (and thus lip support), and it seems like they're always gumming on a big chaw of tobaccy or something.

Anyway, I'm sitting in the back of the 61B this morning when the OBL comes back from her seat in the front. She proceeds to tell everyone that, "it smells like swamp piss up there."

What!?!

"That lady in the pink up there. She's wearing some swamp piss that she be calling perfume. Damn it's making me sick . Swamp piss!"

At the next stop, another woman makes the trip to the back of the bus from her seat in the front, and the OBL perks up and says, "I tole you, it smells like swamp piss!"

You know, when I got off of the bus, I had to walk by the woman wearing the pink shirt...and sure enough it smelled like she was dipped in piss from a south Georgia swamp! The only bad part about something that awesome happening first thing in the morning is that the rest of the day is going to pale by comparison.

SWAMP PISS!!!

Baste In Yourself in Fellatio Tales

While taking a break from teaching urban college students how to property convert from centimeters to meters and how to get the area of a square (I had no less than 10 students ask me how do to so) I found this quaint little site. Enjoy, I guffawed heartily.

http://www.tuckermax.com/archives/entries/date/the_blowjob_follies.phtml#283

Monday update (n'at)

I went to the Stoudt's Microbrew Beer Fest on Saturday with The Brothers Brown, but I'm also busier than a taint groomer on Tuesday, so you'll have to wait a little for an account of the shenanigans. In the mean time, enjoy the picture of me with Carol Stoudt, wife of the owner/operator of Stoudt's Brewing Company:Her husband, Ed Stoudt, told me the secret to eternal youth, so stay tuned!

Thunder Hole

The Sciencette's parents and sister recently vacationed in Maine because Maine is badass. What is equally badass is that the Sciencette's mom bought me some Maine-made beer as a present. It doesn't take much to make me happy, so two 22 oz's of beer just about made my week.

Anyway, when Gulia gave me the beer, I took a look at the labels and was stunned/amazed/titillated by the one called "Thunder Hole." I swear to god, this stuff is called Thunder Hole. If I ever got to name anything, I totally would've called it Thunder Hole:
Drive the new Ford Thunder Hole!
Nothing whitens teeth like Thunder Hole.
A Thunder Hole outbreak kills 70 in Wyoming.
See what I'm getting at here? Shannon Brown, I recommend that you name you first child Thunder Hole Brown. Interestingly enough, Thunder Hole is even a brown ale (teehee); it's totally appropriate.

Anyway, I've been tempted to add Thunder Hole to The Sciencette's growing litany of nicknames, but she wasn't too thrilled. If you ask me though, I think her mom bought the Thunder Hole as a joke. Hell, she raised Thunder Hole for all those years, she knows...

And now I must apologize (even though I'll probably receive a vicious beating anyway) . Julia isn't a Thunder Hole. If there's a Thunder Hole in this relationship, it's me. Just call me Old T.H.

I have to go talk to Mel Gibson about filming "Mad Max Beyond Thunder Hole" now. Does he still have a church on The Mountain Jared?

Some kind of asshole

It's no secret; I'm an asshole. Chances are, you're an asshole too. Since I am one and tolerate the shenanigans of others, you'd think assholery wouldn't bother me anymore. Well, you're dead wrong (asshole).

Somehow or another, I became the unofficial steward of scientific equipment on the 5th floor of my building at work. It's a pain in the taint calling for service and whatnot all the time, but at least I know stuff's going to work when I need it to. Most of the equipment is old, older than me, and it's been through wars.

Some of that shit is new though. New and expensive. I watch out for that junk even more, especially since my boss was responsible for getting it in the first place.

And then an asshole taint-fister entered the picture.

Some mongoloid has been scribbling in pen on the mouse pad, keyboard, monitor, and neighboring computer tower. It's not even words or pictures, just scribbles.

What a fucking asshole.

Do I go to people's houses and ruin their shit? (not usually I guess) I don't know what it was, but seeing the pen just made me want to punch someone in the neck. For Christ's sake, grow up and get the hell away from me.

KILL!

Rain pisses me off.

I had to use an umbrella today...kill!

Rain pisses me off.

The Dane

i spoke with young dane fischer last night. he is doing well in new orleans. he told me that he has enrolled in the accelerated cultural immersion program at UNO. he will be posting his musings shortly, when he gets the internets at his apartment.

in other news, i got a new couch and love-seat for my apartment. i've got a bitchin' pad now...visitors welcome.

Sweet fancy Chuck!

The Teacher says, "click here now!"

NOLA...please burn

Expect ramblings soon.

Why is the south retarded?

Here at Dr. yeti, we've poked fun at the people, places, and shenanigans that can be found south of the Mason-Dixon Line, but mostly it's just good natured ribbing quasi-directed at The Yeti, Dr. Snail, and Medlin due to their southern ties. I've gotta tell you though, I'm pretty convinced now that the south is 100% retarded.

I ran across a little article stating that Athens, Alabama is voting on whether or not to ban alcohol sales. Being a drunkard, I find that a little silly, but it's not enough to categorize the south as riptared. I mean, it's not total prohibition. You would still be able to possess and consume booze, you'd just have to go somewhere else to buy it first.

No, the fagtardedness comes from the Christian backing for the whole thing. Church leaders organized the petitions that got this thing on the ballot, and they don't give a damn what happens to the community because their vantage point on the moral high ground must have put their heads in the clouds.

Athens is a small town, but it makes $250,000 annually in tax from alcohol sales which goes into its school system. The ability to sell alcohol has even lured profitable restaurants away from other dry towns into Athens.

What do the Christians have to say about the economic and academic hardship that's sure to follow a law banning alcohol sales?

[The Rev. Eddie] Gooch isn't worried about the city losing businesses or tax revenues if alcohol sales are banned. Normal economic growth and God will make up any difference if residents dump the bottle, he said.

What an asshole. What an uptarded asshole. Face it Methodists, there is no God. If you win, Athens will be another dry dirt speck on the map full of uneducated inbred taint fisters. Don't yinz guys drink wine with communion anyway?

A Present

i picked up my mail this afternoon and was pleasantly surprised. i had a package waiting for me in the rental office. my mind was astir. what could it be? who could it be from? had i ordered porn on the internet and forgotten about it?

i marched to the rental office and got my package. it was from highspire, pa. who lives in highspire, pa? i was confused. very confused and excited. then it hit me. lori and tanielle live in highspire!!! who are lori and tanielle you ask? only the two most amazing women matt bochman and i have ever come into contact and friendship with!!!!! you see, these ladies used to make us the most amazing cookies and banana bread and peanut butter pie. one time, they even had us over for sunday dinner and made us a HUGE spread of food. we were sated when we left. i think we even played trivial pursuit, which matt and i won do to getting a lucky question about the grateful dead.

anyhow, i just couldn't imagine what they had sent me. well, lo and behold, they had sent me a whole box of chocolate chip cookies!! delicious!! i immediately called the scientist to gloat about my exciting gift. hooray for me! hooray for lori and tanielle!!!!! kill you matt bochman!!!!!!

"Why I should be a male model," by The Scientist

I likes me some Zoolander and so does The Roommate. Between the two of us, we own both VHS and DVD copies of the movie and have watched them numerous times. There's nothing like the world of male modeling to lift your spirits after a tough day. Everyone in the movie is really, really, really...ridiculously...good-looking. Consider the cast: Jon Voight, Mulder, Billy Zane, Melody from "Hey Dude." Zoolander deserves several sequels and a garbage can full of awards.

Anyway, I had a Zoolander moment last week. Remember the scene when Derek and Hansel are in Maury Ballstein's office trying to get some files from his computer? Of course you do, it was hilarious! (They'd never seen or used a computer before, so they had no idea how to get to the files on the Mac. In an inverse "2001: A Space Odyssey" moment, they reverted to ape-like grunting and slapping.)

Well, while The Sciencette was in Wisconsin last week for a phage conference (nerd!), someone sent her an email with a massive file attachment that clogged her inbox. She couldn't get any new mail until some old stuff was deleted, and she couldn't delete stuff remotely because I think her use of gay-ass Macintosh products has somehow corrupted her email account.

So I get the call asking me to log on to her work computer and get rid of the problem. Sounds easy enough, right?

You're dead wrong you son of a bitch.

I got down there and couldn't figure out how to turn the damn thing on. The Mac appeared to have no power button. I looked in the front, in the back, on the screen...nothing. I tried just pressing the apple logo and smashing some buttons on the keyboard, and eventually I too reverted back to monkey maneuvers and just started poking and smacking the thing. Meanwhile, the people in her lab are giving me the stink-eye.

I actually had to call her and ask her how to turn it on (there's a secret button in the back hidden amongst the tangle or cords). What an ego-defeating moment. Macs suck so much taint. Anybody that prefers them to PCs must be some kind of asshole.

On a side note, the culprit email came from the TA Orientation people here at Pitt. They sent The Sciencette nearly 30 Mb of attached crap. I bring this up because I fucking hate the TA Orientation people. TA Orientation was the biggest waste of time in my entire life...and it happened twice! Plus, those douche-cocks gave me and several others food poisoning. I'd like to velcro their taints together and shoot them all into the sun.

BAI

Happy Anniversary.

Happy birthdays are in order.

It seems like people enjoy having lots of sex during the holidays because there are generally a lot of August and September birthdays (do the math). Just last week, we wished The Yeti a happy and hairy 26th birthday. Today, the staff here at Dr. Yeti would like to toss out some more birthday shenanigans to The Sciencette's sister Special K and The Scientist's dad King of the Cans.

Special K hit the big 1-7 today, and my old man is a whopping 58 now. I wonder how much post-Thanksgiving, pre-Christmas boning it took to produce them...

As an aside, I'd like to say that my dad, King of the Cans that he may be, was an accident. My grandmother was 45 when she birthed her last spurt of Bochmanny goodness. She only knew she was pregnant because she went to the doctor thinking she had cancer. Turns out it was just a fetal hippie. I guess I'm lucky he wasn't born retarded or something because the chances for a mongoloid baby drastically increase with the age of the mother.

Anyway, happy birthday to everyone celebrating. Drink one (preferably more) for me!

Happy Birthday Jared!

Uh YEAH! It's The Yeti's birthday. Shower him with gifts...or just give him a golden shower.