How do you make a shirt out of this again?

So after Mur hit the deer, I thought it would be best if I started looking into armor technology. Plate mail being a bit on the pricey side, maybe another kind of mail would work. Then again, given the amount of chain I have, it'd be more suitable for a miniature car.

There were some obscure clues to yesterday's game in the text. The Isle of Apples is Avalon. And a mountain, not a Hill. And of course, the Outdoors. The game itself is Outdoor Survival, published in 1972 by Avalon Hill. As you might expect, it's a game about surviving in the wilderness, from finding food and water, fighting off animals, and dealing exposure and disease. Not having played it myself, I can't really comment on the quality of the game, but it's not rated very well on Board Game Geek. That said, according to the Avalon Hill company history it sold quite well, particularly at National Parks.

So why mention it? Well, it happens to be tied to a far more famous and well-respected game. As does today's game.

My beard demanded this homebrew tonight. We must feed the beard. It is called Rassilon's Emphatic Spittle, and it is so bitter that it needed to be timelocked lest the powerful hops release the Timelords.

14 November 2011

We're halfway through the month. Still less than halfway to our fundraising goal.

What're you standing around for? Don't you like boobs? DONATE! If you don't like my luxurious whiskers, you're bound to love those of at least one of my bearded brothers.

P.S. - Happy Frakkin' Birthday to our brother-in-beards, WannesV!

Not really getting much fuller, is it?

Once more I've stayed up far too late playing Uncharted 3. I've re-started the campaign mode to beat the game on 'Crushing' difficulty and to pick up a variety of achievement trophies that I missed on the first play though. I'm also hunting for the remaining 20 or so 'treasures' that I failed to find the first time, although according to the menu I seem to have missed several of them again on the second play also, so I'll likely be doing some chapters again to give more scrutiny. Strategy guides are for pussies.

As for the beard, I've started putting conditioner in it, which has helped with the itching a bit. I'm still looking forward to getting rid of this thing though.

Mr. Potatohead's power level is over nine-thousaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand!

I've decided to go a more "Abstract" route today with my photo. I'm hoping to expand into the artsy demographic and this seemed less painful than Cubism. I'll see you all at the art museum!

We live in a society exquisitely dependent on science and technology, in which hardly anyone knows anything about science and technology. ~Carl Sagan

Tube is a totally mechanical device, inside a tube is just some metal plate arrangements, the effective operation area is much much larger than a semiconductor (typically 100,000 - 1,000,000 times larger). When music signal pass through a very small area, it will implies certain squeeze feeling to the signal itself and it is very noticeable by our ear, so when a signal just pass through a circuit compose of transistors, you will immediate sense the compressed , flattened and hardened feeling from the music. Most of the cases, the more the transistors in the circuit, the lesser the easiness , and more flatness and hardness to the music. On the other hands, if your music need hardness and brightness, such as hard rock and dance music, transistor definite have their advantages of tigher and punchier bass. So if you want something bridge the full music spectrum, then hybrid is one of the very good solution. - Space-Tech Hi-End Audio Website

Purists of sound often rely on vacuum tube amplifiers for the reasons listed above, among others. The tube I hold in my hand is an RCA Electron Tube circa 1947. The beard is telling me that I am not yet evil enough so I am hoping it will cleanly amplify my evil.

Do all of my shirts sit lopsided on me?

Well, whatever was going on yesterday seems to have been pretty well confined to yesterday. Today was entirely bearable on the itch front, although my wife described the beard this morning as "prickly".

I find myself tonight with a lack of inspiration. No words will come forth to entertain or inspire, regardless of how hard I try to coax them. So I will simply bid you good evening and thanks for now, and try to do better anon.

Flossing also helps the gums, if you do it right.

Strong teeth will last a lifetime. Strong, manly teeth like those of a beard grower will last at least twice that.

Word Count: 18050, 0 today.

You may be noticing a trend. That trend may be my not writing. No worries, I'll be picking it back up tomorrow.

I hope.

Recovering from TuacaCon today.. slow moving.. watched Suckerpunch for the first time.. Overall a good day. Sad that we have to return home tomorrow.

"Dr. Beardface! Let's see if he wants to play 'macaroni'!"

- J.D. to Elliot, Scrubs, "My Turf War" (season 6 episode 18)

Today is a momentous day in the annals of Cmar household food supplies.

Over ten years ago, Laura and I moved to Columbia, MD, from Greenbelt, MD, and Cincinnati, OH, respectively. This was to initiate cohabitation after being married for a year and a half but living apart as NASA contracting and medical schooling demanded. As one might expect, there was a great amount of consolidation of personal belongings, including everything from books to clothing to kitchen supplies. Living the bachelor lifestyle in med school meant that my contribution to the latter was various supplies of easy to prepare bulk food items of the type that someone consistently up at strange times while running on little sleep would have about:

• food-service sized jars of peanut butter

• monstrous cans of instant soup mix

• lots, and I mean lots, of cereal

• a case of boxes of macaroni and cheese

After settling in to our new home, the peanut butter and cereal were vanquished in short order. The soup mix was devoured less quickly, saved for cold, winter days, but it too disappeared after a few months. But the macaroni... those damn, numerous boxes of macaroni... were banished to the dark recesses of the pantry. Slowly, over time, we ate a box here, or made a bowl there, but I was always suspicious that against my better knowledge of reality, some dry noodley procreation was taking place on the pasta shelf that was keeping the macaroni box supply up.

Until tonight.

There was one box left. I stared it down. It gave me a tired, dusty gaze in return. Then, without mercy, I boiled it, sauced it, and Laura and I feasted.

Take that, Ohio macaroni! You thought you'd make it well into the next decade, but NO! You have been defeated. So, THERE.

Take note, breast cancer, because you're next. This beard continues to grow, and it is for boobs. You, too, will fall.

Descriptor of the day: lengthening below