Thursday, December 31, 2009
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Monday, December 28, 2009
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Cigars
Choosing a cigar is an individual thing. It depends on personal taste, availability and budget.
the larger the ring size, the fuller and more complex a flavor the cigar will have, and the more smoke it will produce.
In terms of color, the darker the wrapper, the more full-bodied the cigar is likely to be. The longer the leaf stays on the plant, the more sunlight it gets and the darker it will end up being. There are dozens of possible shades of cigar wrappers. Some of the more common colors are:
Double Claro – has a light green wrapper and a very mild flavor.
Claro – has a light tan wrapper and a smooth, mild flavor.
Natural - light brown to brown. It has a fuller bodied flavor than the Claro.
Colorado - reddish dark brown, with a robust, rich flavor.
Colorado Maduro – a dark brown wrapper with a rich, aromatic flavor.
Maduro – is very dark brown, and usually has a strong, sweet flavor.
Oscuro - the darkest maduro wrapper, oscuro is almost black and is stronger than the lighter maduro wrappers. The darker the wrapper, the more full-bodied and sweeter a cigar is likely to be.
Select a size (length) but do not base it on size. Find one that fits in comfortably in your hand.
When buying cigars, you should always check the freshness before you purchase. Squeeze the cigar gently. It should "give" but not be too soft. The cigar should not be dry to the touch, but have a mild oily sheen to it.
the larger the ring size, the fuller and more complex a flavor the cigar will have, and the more smoke it will produce.
In terms of color, the darker the wrapper, the more full-bodied the cigar is likely to be. The longer the leaf stays on the plant, the more sunlight it gets and the darker it will end up being. There are dozens of possible shades of cigar wrappers. Some of the more common colors are:
Double Claro – has a light green wrapper and a very mild flavor.
Claro – has a light tan wrapper and a smooth, mild flavor.
Natural - light brown to brown. It has a fuller bodied flavor than the Claro.
Colorado - reddish dark brown, with a robust, rich flavor.
Colorado Maduro – a dark brown wrapper with a rich, aromatic flavor.
Maduro – is very dark brown, and usually has a strong, sweet flavor.
Oscuro - the darkest maduro wrapper, oscuro is almost black and is stronger than the lighter maduro wrappers. The darker the wrapper, the more full-bodied and sweeter a cigar is likely to be.
Select a size (length) but do not base it on size. Find one that fits in comfortably in your hand.
When buying cigars, you should always check the freshness before you purchase. Squeeze the cigar gently. It should "give" but not be too soft. The cigar should not be dry to the touch, but have a mild oily sheen to it.
men's health
How fasting improves your health
Mitochondria inside your body's cells use carbohydrates to make cell fuel. The molecular by-product: free radicals that damage DNA, impair cellular function, and promote cancer. Here's how fasting may help.
1. Fewer free radicals During a fast, the mitochondria, sensing a lack of food, become more efficient. Like a cleaner-burning fire, they start producing fewer free radicals per calorie burned, says Eric Ravussin, Ph.D., a clinical investigator at Pennington Biomedical Research Center.
2. More antioxidants The diminishing number of free radicals is met by an increase in antioxidant production within your cells. These enzymes "search and destroy free radicals," says Mark Mattson, Ph.D., a neuroscientist at the National Institutes of Health.
3. Stronger cells This cleaner calorie-burning also produces a surge in beneficial stress hormones, such as cortisol and growth hormone. "Exercise during a fast and the increase is even greater," says Ravussin, adding that the hormones prepare cells for worse stresses. "They'll better resist tumors and rebound faster from a heart attack."
Mitochondria inside your body's cells use carbohydrates to make cell fuel. The molecular by-product: free radicals that damage DNA, impair cellular function, and promote cancer. Here's how fasting may help.
1. Fewer free radicals During a fast, the mitochondria, sensing a lack of food, become more efficient. Like a cleaner-burning fire, they start producing fewer free radicals per calorie burned, says Eric Ravussin, Ph.D., a clinical investigator at Pennington Biomedical Research Center.
2. More antioxidants The diminishing number of free radicals is met by an increase in antioxidant production within your cells. These enzymes "search and destroy free radicals," says Mark Mattson, Ph.D., a neuroscientist at the National Institutes of Health.
3. Stronger cells This cleaner calorie-burning also produces a surge in beneficial stress hormones, such as cortisol and growth hormone. "Exercise during a fast and the increase is even greater," says Ravussin, adding that the hormones prepare cells for worse stresses. "They'll better resist tumors and rebound faster from a heart attack."
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Learn about Toast!
Learn about Toast!
Step One: You are going to need some bread. If you don't have any go to the store or gas station/convenience mart. Buy a lot you can't go wrong with bread. It is good. Do you like wheat? Do you like bran? Do you like cinnamon and raisin? If you do then you are into man love and need to go play taint tag. I apologize that was very mean spirited. Do you like white bread? Thin or like a Texas toast. There are a lot of varities so ask someone's opinion before your purchase.
Step Two: You have bought bread now you can begin to start making delicious. First take one slice maybe two. Do you have the bourgeois toaster with four slots. Like some weird carnie's vagina. Now put it in the toaster. The bread, that is. I said vagina earlier and don't want to throw you off.
Step Three: depress the toasting lever and adjust the toaster from Tony Danza to Tom and Jerry's maid. I apologize again that came out wrong. I love people. Push it down till it stays down like "the man" oppressin' poor folk.
Step Four: Magic! You have toast. Put some butter or jam or peanut butter or honey or plain. Put it on with a knife or spoon. Or special it up and use your fingers.
The Romans added a piece of burnt bread into the cup-hence, "a toast". It was believed that charcoal reduced the acidity in slightly vinegary wine and rendered it more mellow and palatable. Now you know why they call it toast.
Toast is fun. I like toast.
Deuce K
Step One: You are going to need some bread. If you don't have any go to the store or gas station/convenience mart. Buy a lot you can't go wrong with bread. It is good. Do you like wheat? Do you like bran? Do you like cinnamon and raisin? If you do then you are into man love and need to go play taint tag. I apologize that was very mean spirited. Do you like white bread? Thin or like a Texas toast. There are a lot of varities so ask someone's opinion before your purchase.
Step Two: You have bought bread now you can begin to start making delicious. First take one slice maybe two. Do you have the bourgeois toaster with four slots. Like some weird carnie's vagina. Now put it in the toaster. The bread, that is. I said vagina earlier and don't want to throw you off.
Step Three: depress the toasting lever and adjust the toaster from Tony Danza to Tom and Jerry's maid. I apologize again that came out wrong. I love people. Push it down till it stays down like "the man" oppressin' poor folk.
Step Four: Magic! You have toast. Put some butter or jam or peanut butter or honey or plain. Put it on with a knife or spoon. Or special it up and use your fingers.
The Romans added a piece of burnt bread into the cup-hence, "a toast". It was believed that charcoal reduced the acidity in slightly vinegary wine and rendered it more mellow and palatable. Now you know why they call it toast.Toast is fun. I like toast.
Deuce K
A story about unicorns.... I mean me
A story about unicorns.... I mean me
When one gets a degree in the arts, you are assuring yourself of debt and very few sales. Going to art school to get rich is like joining math club to become popular. If only I could paint pictures of ducks or cabins. I know money isn't everything but integrity doesn't buy you a jet ski. Those things are fucking fun. People buy pictures of flowers, That is a road I can't go down. That is why we as artists drink and pray for trust funds. I forgot to get one of those. Actually Jackson Pollack is why we drink. A drunk that spills paint. What the f dude. You can't relate, I know. You need a messy head of hair, paint on your shoes and have had conversation with chunky pink haired girls about Gericault or Bosch. Drinking coffee from the faculty lounge that you stole and smoking whatever cigarettes where in the cardboard bin by the door at 7-11. They are a dollar and taste like burning leaves. The next time you see this guy
When one gets a degree in the arts, you are assuring yourself of debt and very few sales. Going to art school to get rich is like joining math club to become popular. If only I could paint pictures of ducks or cabins. I know money isn't everything but integrity doesn't buy you a jet ski. Those things are fucking fun. People buy pictures of flowers, That is a road I can't go down. That is why we as artists drink and pray for trust funds. I forgot to get one of those. Actually Jackson Pollack is why we drink. A drunk that spills paint. What the f dude. You can't relate, I know. You need a messy head of hair, paint on your shoes and have had conversation with chunky pink haired girls about Gericault or Bosch. Drinking coffee from the faculty lounge that you stole and smoking whatever cigarettes where in the cardboard bin by the door at 7-11. They are a dollar and taste like burning leaves. The next time you see this guy
Be kind and ask to see his portfolio.
Deuce K
A story, or it is 101 degrees in my mouth
A story, or it is 101 degrees in my mouth
There once was a chap, I forget his name. Maybe it was Hans or Rolf. Either way it was something very abrasive and unflattering., like white wool turtlenecks on overweight gentleman. His face had seen the years. It was fractured, tanned and blistered by the sun and wind.
Everyday at 4:30 AM his day began. The same cold cup of coffee. Half a slice of dry white toast. Flavor didn’t matter to him anymore. He was colorblind. Had been for over a decade, give or take a few. Being unable to see the color of the jam meant that the taste would be a surprise. He hated surprises. He also hated crosswords and sudoku. He just never understood the appeal. Numbers and letters were everywhere. Surrounding you like some advertising constrictor. The shit was very un-amusing even for a boring middle aged male.
He found that illustrated safety manuals were more to his liking. He enjoyed the pictures. The conclusion had been made he was opposed to the term “team lift“. He wasn’t on a team. Who would join a team that just lifts heavy items. He let his mind drift, coming up with other phrases to write on top of the white-out barely covering up the words “team lift”. He felt “laborious two man job, three if you have enough guys” was a bit less enthusiastic and truer to the sentiment of manual labor. Ok that seems ludicrous. “Really Heavy”. If you couldn’t figure out from that warning that you needed two people you are an idiot and deserve a hernia brace. He also enjoyed self help books on tape. At least someone in his day to day life would be positive.
He would finish his toast and walk to the closet full of coats and a beer sign. The beer sign reminded him of the old times. It brought back real memories. He was no longer able to keep it plugged in. Had a short in the cord and it always smelled like burning. He just left it in the closet. It was fine there. He reached in and grabbed his gray bib overalls and put them on. One leg at a time. He wasn’t a daredevil after all. To his surprise (which he deeply despised) the mustard stain had not come out in the wash. His detergent, like most things in life had lied.
Peddling his bike down the street, he notice the wind always seemed to be in his face. No matter which direction he traveled. Street sign after street sign, the journey was lacking the adventure he had read about in novels the night before. Novels and short stories of tribesman, large breasted women and bear attacks. He felt silly reading them, but loved the word adventure. He also loved the word “drab”. I t was part of his humble nature to swing back to middle when he recklessly veered off course. One building and structure after another. A gray skyline that brought no naturalists or painters to tell of its lack of life.
His work day consisted of doing things incorrectly and then blaming another department. This was actually an encouraged behavior. He took no joy in toil. He Didn’t want to seem boastful or superior to others who had a far worse situation. Some where forced to turn a dial repetitively until they heard a chime and then push a button starting the process over again. This position had no possibility of advancement. He someday dreams of being the head of the department blamed for errors.
At lunch he eats a small meal that fits into a tiny container. The meal contains mustard. The culprit he knew he would encounter again.
A full day is completed and back on the bike. Again the wind has switched to a direction that forces his progress to an almost standstill. Legs aching and no end sight.
Upon arrival he removes the stained garment putting a greater effort to remove the stain. Into the wash it goes. After completing his rituals to end the day, the alarm rings only to reveal the sad fact that he has missed a much anticipated “ Facts of Life” marathon on the retro TV station that will soon change formats and show reality programming, because vintage television didn’t have enough faux hawks and skinny jeans to sell to a youthful market.
The end
What do I know. I am sweating like a pack mule and my temp is around 101 degrees. I want to sleep. That isn't in the cards.
There once was a chap, I forget his name. Maybe it was Hans or Rolf. Either way it was something very abrasive and unflattering., like white wool turtlenecks on overweight gentleman. His face had seen the years. It was fractured, tanned and blistered by the sun and wind.
Everyday at 4:30 AM his day began. The same cold cup of coffee. Half a slice of dry white toast. Flavor didn’t matter to him anymore. He was colorblind. Had been for over a decade, give or take a few. Being unable to see the color of the jam meant that the taste would be a surprise. He hated surprises. He also hated crosswords and sudoku. He just never understood the appeal. Numbers and letters were everywhere. Surrounding you like some advertising constrictor. The shit was very un-amusing even for a boring middle aged male.
He found that illustrated safety manuals were more to his liking. He enjoyed the pictures. The conclusion had been made he was opposed to the term “team lift“. He wasn’t on a team. Who would join a team that just lifts heavy items. He let his mind drift, coming up with other phrases to write on top of the white-out barely covering up the words “team lift”. He felt “laborious two man job, three if you have enough guys” was a bit less enthusiastic and truer to the sentiment of manual labor. Ok that seems ludicrous. “Really Heavy”. If you couldn’t figure out from that warning that you needed two people you are an idiot and deserve a hernia brace. He also enjoyed self help books on tape. At least someone in his day to day life would be positive.
He would finish his toast and walk to the closet full of coats and a beer sign. The beer sign reminded him of the old times. It brought back real memories. He was no longer able to keep it plugged in. Had a short in the cord and it always smelled like burning. He just left it in the closet. It was fine there. He reached in and grabbed his gray bib overalls and put them on. One leg at a time. He wasn’t a daredevil after all. To his surprise (which he deeply despised) the mustard stain had not come out in the wash. His detergent, like most things in life had lied.
Peddling his bike down the street, he notice the wind always seemed to be in his face. No matter which direction he traveled. Street sign after street sign, the journey was lacking the adventure he had read about in novels the night before. Novels and short stories of tribesman, large breasted women and bear attacks. He felt silly reading them, but loved the word adventure. He also loved the word “drab”. I t was part of his humble nature to swing back to middle when he recklessly veered off course. One building and structure after another. A gray skyline that brought no naturalists or painters to tell of its lack of life.
His work day consisted of doing things incorrectly and then blaming another department. This was actually an encouraged behavior. He took no joy in toil. He Didn’t want to seem boastful or superior to others who had a far worse situation. Some where forced to turn a dial repetitively until they heard a chime and then push a button starting the process over again. This position had no possibility of advancement. He someday dreams of being the head of the department blamed for errors.
At lunch he eats a small meal that fits into a tiny container. The meal contains mustard. The culprit he knew he would encounter again.
A full day is completed and back on the bike. Again the wind has switched to a direction that forces his progress to an almost standstill. Legs aching and no end sight.
Upon arrival he removes the stained garment putting a greater effort to remove the stain. Into the wash it goes. After completing his rituals to end the day, the alarm rings only to reveal the sad fact that he has missed a much anticipated “ Facts of Life” marathon on the retro TV station that will soon change formats and show reality programming, because vintage television didn’t have enough faux hawks and skinny jeans to sell to a youthful market.
The end
What do I know. I am sweating like a pack mule and my temp is around 101 degrees. I want to sleep. That isn't in the cards.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Holidays
Grab some ripe full bodied luckies and celebrate.
Eat a cocktail weiner and wash it down with corn syrup rich 7-up. Be a good consumer.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Norad
Make sure you check where Santa is via Norad. F' the terrorist, stop worrying and enjoy Christmas. 
Friday, December 18, 2009
The Stranger
See, they call Los Angeles the "City Of Angels"; but I didn't find it to be that, exactly. But I'll allow it as there are some nice folks there. 'Course I ain't never been to London, and I ain't never seen France. And I ain't never seen no queen in her damned undies, so the feller says.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Nice Buick.
..these are a few of my favorite things.....Makes me want to cry.Cross road?
What is around the next dark corner and do I really care? I guess I do, I don't know. I am often too cynical and lethargic to pursue any avenue. All my heroes turned out to be anti-heroes which turns out to equal drunk shut-ins. I am a romantic in thought alone. I always end up being a realist to a fault.
Chase down your dreams and end up drunk and regretful. I thought Jack had it right following a dream and just living. Drunk and alone at the end. Cirrhosis got 'em. Hunter, the honorary doctor, giving the finger to almost everybody. A life of mayhem and insanity for the sake of insanity, shoots himself. Hemingway was a man of adventure and life. On safari and secluding himself on an island far from all the crap. Again, a shotgun ended his journey.
Is it something to do with insignificance after all the time spent really blazing your own trails. Maybe you just need to believe, more than anything, that it is worth something in the end. For now I will continue to whistle and just be me. The weight of accomplishment and riches is greatly overrated. I guess it all comes down to the last chapter. Do you right the end or some "to be continued" third person narration. My narrator is hopefully a weathered old story tellin' man like Waylon Jennings. You know, like when he did the Dukes of Hazzard. "Looks like them Duke Boys are in a mess of trouble".
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)