I'm literally writing this with tears in my eye. I came down here to Portland, OR, USA for a short beercation and now I'm in a lot of trouble. I am so freaked out at the moment and need to get things sorted out ASAP so I can get out of here. If someone could help me out with a quick loan of approximately $2371.54 to sort out some bills I promise I'll refund it once I get home.

UPdate:
OMG, do you doubt me? What have I done to not deserve your assistance? I'm telling you I'm freaking out. Look, I've been to the cops and the embassy, but neither would help with my issues. I just need a quick loan, because this bar manager won't let me leave until I settle this bill. Western Union is probably the best way for us to do this transaction. Just give them the money and hit me back with that ID and when I can pick it up.

UpDATE2:
I checked my local Dub-U and there weren't any transactions for me. Don't forget that MTCN confirmation number. And I'm in Portland, OR.

And it's around $2371.54 that I need. 

And I'm freaked.

New update:
I don't know why you haven't wired me this money. We both know it would save me from a lot of embarrassment and possibly save my life. I've also got a flight to catch. I promise to refund the money to you the next time we meet. 

Maybe you need some back story before you help me out. Here we go.

I started at Henry's 12^th Street Tavern. This place has like 100 beers on tap!! They were also open at noon. Score-and-a-half! Check out the frozen lane that goes around the bar.

I had four or so pints here. I believe in laying down a good foundation before a big day. Next I headed out to find a Whole Foods Market. Portland is so hip, and I needed a visit to this earth-and-body-friendly, organic foods paradise to give my hipsterism a bump before night fell. 

En route I found Rogue Ale Public House, so I did that instead. The bartender there was so cool. Rogue's bar has a lot of windows, so this guy wore sunglasses inside. If memory serves, I think his name was Seabiscuit. My man hooked me up with enough samples to call it a day. I ordered a pint anyway just to return the favor, since I don't know what the proper tipping percentage is on free samples. This barkeep was really rad and definitely deserved a tip. 

From across the room I heard, "Anybody want a distillery tour?" I scanned the room to see if there was any takers, but it was two in the afternoon, and I happened to be the only person in the bar area. "Uhhh, this guy," I replied pointing both thumbs at my shoulders. Seabiscuit spit back, "W-W-W dot fingerpoint dot snap dash wink dot com." Hashtag awesome! I was so glad I didn't go to Whole Foods.

Affected picture of Seabiscuit

I don't know if my experience was unique, but the solo Rogue distillery tour consisted of talking about liquor and taking shots with the tour lady in the upstairs bar. If there was more to the tour, then I don't recall. I did learn that you cannot touch the still. Hashtag now I have a burn mark on arm.

Don't Touch That

Looking to soak in some additional Portland flavor, I hit up Seabiscuit for a recco. He informed me that Portland was home to the number one Irish establishment in America. Hashtag Seabiscuit 4 Prez. 

Have you guys noticed that Portland has a lot of street folk – uh, homeless-ish looking people (I don't judge). No, not as many as New Haven, Connecticut though. Am I right, friend?

A block from the pub, with my brain composing a mad fiddle tune, I ran into a guy passing out flyers. I have a personal policy about not taking flyers on the sidewalk. "No, you throw it away." I always say that joke. I can't even remember who I stole it from, but it's kind of sneaky mean, and I like it. The street flyer guy didn't understand my sarcasm and somehow tricked me into grabbing the flyer. But I was glad he did.

You see friend, Portland has these Underground Tours that literally take you on a "journey into the bowels of the city." Apparently many of the buildings are connected underground, and were once used for illicit "medicine" trade, Prohibition-era saloons, white slavery, and some other cool stuff. Portland's version of the emerald isle could wait. 

The Underground Tour started at the daftly named Shanghai Tunnel pub. Our guide began the experience by asking the group what kind of tour they wanted: 1.) The white slavery tour or 2.) The ghost tour. White slavery sounds pretty awesome. In spite of this fact, everyone in the entire room raised their hands for the ghost tour, presumably because ghosts are cooler than slavery. Ugh.

We headed underground, and I kid you not, the flyer-passer-out guy was down there. Creep city. Seriously, I think I've seen this guy in an old Scooby Doo cartoon. By the end of the tour, we all agreed that there were definitely ghosts living in Portland. "You believe in ghosts," you are probably asking. I agreed ghosts were real as a precaution, because if ghosts do exist, then there is less of a chance of them getting mad and then haunting me if I am a believer. If there aren't really ghosts, then I'm also in the clear, because – you see – they don't exist. The logic is sound. Plus, the creepy flyer-passer-out tour-assistant guy stopped staring at me when I declared my belief. That guy is like part Craigslist – part bottom of the tongue – part stray cat. 

We weren't allowed bar drinks on the tour, so it was definitely time to test the taps at the best Irish establishment in America, the place blessed by my new super cool bartender friend from Rogue. At least I thought Seabiscuit was my friend. Wow, how can I express it best? Let me just say that it looked like it was Ed Hardy's birthday (observed) up in there. 

Slainte!

Coming down hard off my midday craft beverage bender, I decided to suck it up, intermingle with the pretentious sugar-coated meat heads, and make my way to the bar.

And here, friend, is where the story goes off course. 

When I reached for my wallet to pay for my Honest Pint® of Guinness……… NOW DOES MY EARLIER PLEA MAKE SENSE TO YOU!?

My heart started racing. I had everything in that wallet: All my credit cards, my ID, my American Homebrewers Association member card, a lotto ticket, my Social Security Card, a bunch of walking around cash, and a receipt of a time when I epically out-Whataburgered my wife. I started sweating. I couldn't breathe. Everything was spinning. I really wanted that beer. 

I ran out of Kells (In order to avoid libel and stuff, let's say the place rhymes with…) "Hellz" to get back to the Shanghai tours. The last time I pulled my wallet out was when I bought that ghost tour ticket. I was disoriented, and must have run around the same block two or three times before finding a hostess at the bar. Gasping for air and a clear thought, I explained to the hostess that I had lost my wallet on an earlier tour. My spastic demeanor must have frightened her a bit, because she just turned around, called someone on the phone, and directed me to the bar next door. However, no one but a bartender was at that bar next door. I sure could have used a beer to calm the nerves, but instead I frantically explained to him my predicament. The bartender assured me they could help, and he led me to the back of the bar.

I awoke in some dreadful chamber underground. I checked my pocket and damn – no wallet. I had no idea where I had been taken or how I got there, but when I saw him, I figured it out. 

Curse all those fools for voting for the ghost tour!! I knew zero point zero about Shanghaiing. But, I was about to find out.

Did you ever pith a frog in science class? I'm just saying that it was the creepy flyer tour guy down there with me. He explained my two options: 1.) Work the Portland bar scene for no pay, cleaning up in the early mornings to get the establishments ready for the next day, or 2.) Pay $2,250 for my freedom. 

He further explained that Portland had been using this shocking practice of kidnapping able-bodied men and women since the 1800s. A little Shanghaiing is apparently how Portland continues to be so great, and it really makes sense the way he explained it. I had sensed something a little strange about the city. Plus, it is kind of cool to be called "able-bodied."

But friend, I'm no good at cleaning. I haven't even made my bed since middle school. Please, please help me out. I'll be honest, I was just kidding about the embassy thing in the earlier update. I thought that would get your attention, but now I know I was wrong. The Western Union details at the top of the post are totally real though. I need that $2,250 for my freedom, $86.54 for the ecoShuttle to PDX, and I seriously need a beer or two and a pizza. 

I will never drink a bunch of beer before liquor and then take flyers and go on tours ever again. I promise. I'll just wait here for your response. 

With this guy.

Thanks.

So interesting news out of Burbank that Pat Sajak, beloved host of Wheel of Fortune since I remember watching TV and I'm not young enjoyed a margarita or six before hosting Wheel of Fortune.

Lots of questions here:
1) In the entertainment business, can being tipsy allow one to be more entertaining?
2) In a regular work place, can being tipsy allow one to be more creative, innovative, personable?
3) Does Vanna White enjoy tire treads over her back from the bus she was just thrown under?
4) Why the heck is Dan Le Batard breaking this news on an ESPN show?

Let's look at one thing at a time.

1) I say emphatically, "yes".  Word of mouth stories have tied actors like, oh, John Belushi, who might chug an entire bottle of Jack (and come out of it knowing foreign languages, apparently) to get in character to being a bit loaded on the set.  Other than the obvious problems with binge drinking, anything of it? I say "no".  If I were an actor, I wouldn't hesitate (contract allowing) to get a little loose before going in front of the lights.

2) Hmmm, slippery slope here.  I can handle my one or two or six (here's to you Pat) but the guy next to me may not.  He might fly off the handle and come at me when I ask why his report is late.  The gal next to him might break down in tears after a few if you mention something as simple as "your hair looks nice today" and she replies "pickles is gone, my cat is dead..."  Lost productivity having to listen to her go on and on for 30 minutes about a cat you could give a flip less about.  So I'm going to have to say "no".  For more information, this summary highlights the possiblities with beer at work.  You don't have to stretch the imagination for the liability involved, be it sexual harassment, imparted driving, workplace injury, etc.  Short story is that I could pull it off, a work force of 100 people will see problems.

3) Yeah, I'm pretty sure Vanna didn't want to have anything to do with this leaking.  I'm sure a publicist is working right now to disassociate herself from the comments of Pat and Pat alone.  I say as a disinterested (legally) but interested (from an adolescent male), I did not notice any evidence of stumbling or disorientation of her and turning those letters so she's innocent until proven guilty.

4) Those who follow sports are familiar with Dan Le Batard, a great sportswriter, a fill in for ESPN's Pardon the Interruption, and a wit from the show highlighted above.  Good catch, credit to his producers who found Sajak and thought this might be a story.  You figure CNN could have found this and made it a big story on one of their fledgling shows (like whoever that guy who isn't Larry King) but DLB got it!

All that being said, I think a glass of beer or wine with lunch (European style) should be more tolerated here stateside.

As a complete non-sequitor, does anyone else remember when former San Diego Chargers Kicker Rolf Benirschke hosted Wheel for some reason? What was that about????

Prior to my honeymoon in the Southern Caribbean near the turn of the millennium, I'm not sure I had ever tasted a rum punch. During the island tours, I quickly became accustomed – and fond – of this Caribbean staple. It seemed like no lunch, tour, swim, museum visit, or mountain hike started or finished (or started and finished) without being offered a glass. If I had known then that rum punch recipes were so divergent, I would have pressed a local for their secret.

"Classic" rum punch recipes range from having bitters, simple syrups, fruit punch, and/or sodas. I found many recipes that called for orange juice, but all of my iterations attempting to recreate the Southern Caribbean variation fell short. To be sure, the key ingredient is the use of high quality Caribbean dark rum. In my opinion, no better rum exists that the ones made at Mount Gay. Their rum is so good you could mix it in your Bacardi to make it taste better. My next major breakthrough came when I abandoned orange juice and instead used guava and mango nectars. Eureka! 

Many years removed, I honestly don't know how close this recipe is to that once familiar Southern Caribbean drink. My recipe is unique and tasteful though, so please enjoy my interpretation of the rum punch. 

---

Southern Caribbean Rum Punch (Tribute)

---

yield:
~½ pitcher

ingredients:
Punch:
2 11.3 oz cans guava nectar
1 11.3 oz can mango nectar
1 11.3 oz can "bartender's choice" nectar (any flavor; I suggest an orange blend, banana blend, or another mango)
1 6 oz can pineapple juice
2 tbsp lime juice
½ cup canned coconut cream (e.g. Coco Lopez), stir well before measuring

At serving:
Mount Gay Sugar Cane Rum (or other dark Caribbean rum)
Sweetened coconut flakes
Ground nutmeg
Lime wedge (optional)

preparation:
Combine coconut cream, pineapple juice, lime juice, and nectars in a blender (note: some of the nectars can be left out if pitcher is full). Blend until coconut is well mixed (several 2 second pulses should do it). Pour into a large pitcher. Add any remaining juices (if some were left out of the blender). Mix well. Serve or cover and refrigerate (can be prepared a day ahead).

serving:
Fill a 12 ounce glass with ice. Pour a shot of rum over the ice. Top the glass off with the punch mix and stir. Garnish with a pinch of coconut flakes, ground nutmeg, and a few drops of lime juice or a lime slice. Salud!

Collaboration.
Session taps the ferm dot org.
Collaboration.

---

Main Entry: col·lab·o·rate
Pronunciation: \kə-'la-bə-,rāt\
Function: intransitive verb
Inflected Form(s): col·lab·o·rat·ed; col·lab·o·rat·ing

Etymology: Late Latin collaboratus, past participle of collaborare to labor together, from Latin com- + laborare to labor — more at labor

Date: 1871

1: to work jointly with others or together especially in an intellectual endeavor
2: to cooperate with or willingly assist an enemy of one's country and especially an occupying force
3: to cooperate with an agency or instrumentality with which one is not immediately connected

via Merriam-Webster

---

Collaboration.
Please put that in a sentence.
Collaboration.

---

Top 10 collaborations of drinking and movies.

10) Dazed and Confused ("All right, all right, all right.")
9) Swingers ("you're so money and you don't even know it")
8) Desperado ("this beer tastes like piss")
7) Three Amigos ("What's Tequila, uh, it's like beer")
6) Beerfest ("I'm better when I'm drunk!")
5) Fandango (on a mission to find "Dom")
4) Casablanca ("Of all the gin joints in all the world...")
3) The Hangover ("Why don't we remember a G. D. thing from last night?")
2) Animal House (Bluto downs a fifth of JD)
1) Strange Brew ("hoser")

---

Why haven't beer cocktails really taken off? Beaver's Ice House in Houston, TX has dabbled. Hey "mixologists," how about mixing an Independence Bootlegger Brown and Mount Gay Extra Old Rum with *insert your magic here* for an interesting beverage. We'll be there to help critique.

---

Collaboration.
A Flaming Dr. Pepper.
Collaboration.

---

Flaming Dr. Peppers don't count. They are not a tasty drink, only a tolerable shot.

---

Tenacious D, now
that's collaboration, Holmes.
JB & KG!

---

Collaborate

All right stop, collaborate
and listen, We'll elaborate
like long division. No wait.
Don't hate. We assassinate.
Just relax and meditate.
Check it, our style lacks much weight.
Collab'ing can fascinate,
This we can appreciate,
Think about, deliberate,
and without any debate,
or any need to mediate,
The way to go on any date,
Is to collaborate, yes
Collaborate. Peace.

---

Collaboration.
Irish Car Bomb, Saki Bomb.
Collaboration.

---

So why don't more distilleries and breweries get together and make something magical? Why doesn't Dogfish, Rogue, and the like collaborate internally between their production facilities and their pubs with their own brewed and distilled beverages? Surely there is some collaboration that will bring the two together like a Yin and Yang, but also like peas in a pod... or like peanut butter and jelly… or like coffee and creamer… or like white and Labor day… or like the French and rolling over.

Do you know what we are saying?

---

Collaboration.
Sounds like fun, then you do it.
Collaboration.

---

This post was a collaborative effort by J.R. Ewing, K Dub, Mr. Smokeypants, and SirRon inspired by this month's The Session topic: Collaborations. More information about The Session and links to other participating blogs can be found on Brookston Beer Bulletin or on the host site for this month's topic, The Hop Press. Links to other participating blogs can be found in The Session #39 roundup post.

No, not talking about a swimming pool here. One has to wonder, when and how many astronauts/cosmonauts nipped a little bourbon, vodka, sake, beer, wine, etc. between space walks, exercise, and running science experiments?

It's rumored back in the Soviet days, that vodka was part of the USSR's standard allotment of provisions for MIRs inhabitants. It was also rumored that a cigarette or two were allowed, although that remains largely unconfirmed.

There's also been a history of astronauts using their very limited personal allotment of space/weight to take things meaningful to them. Alan Shepard brought a golf club head and ball, Buzz Aldrin brought consecrated bread and wine and celebrated the first Eucharist on a heavenly body in our Solar System other than Earth. It remains to be seen if other civilizations in other systems and galaxies have done the same, but pretty sure for our Solar System that is true. So there is concrete (okay, anecdotal since they wouldn't broadcast it) evidence that wine (in sacramental form) has traveled all the way to the moon.

Hollywood reenactment of Buzz Aldrin (or he looked really different and cameras were more advanced than I thought in 1969). Subtitled in English in case you don't understand their thick American accents.

You have to wonder if Alan Shepard enjoyed the "19th hole" with a refreshing beverage?

I'd have to think a number of astronauts have brought a little something something to celebrate their trip of a lifetime. Think how many times you went somewhere and the trip was made all the more meaningful by breaking out a beverage of choice to commemorate?

There is probably a non-trivial stash of alcoholic provisions on board. Having been permanently occupied since October 2000, there have been many a birthday celebration, space milestone (see video below), even new fatherhood worthy of a cultural tip of the glass.

Yuri's Night 2008

In fact, The Ukraine appears to have featured a vodka drinking "experiment" on a local TV news show. I don't speak Ukrainian, but the tags at the host site imply that indeed this is how to drink vodka in space (skip to the 2 minute mark unless you know Ukrainian and can follow the dialogue). The crewmember is Yuri Malenchenko.

How to slam a shot in space

There are PR reasons against a government space agency making this public. In the era of people being hypersensitive to government's every dollar spent, and NASA (in particular, as compared to ESA, FSA, JAXA) in need of nothing but positive publicity, it doesn't make sense. I even recall that briefly on Twitter/Twitpic, a St. Arnold floating bottle cap on ISS was posted, it seemed to be taken down within minutes as I sent the link out to friends and many were too late and I've never found it again (presumably didn't pass muster for the public affairs office of NASA)

I submit this censorship of sorts is the wrong approach. As the space shuttle winds down, NASA and its international partners are missing out on a golden opportunity. The beer and liquor industry are heavy hitters in the advertising world. How much would they chip in to "sponsor" a happy hour event on the station? These days, when upwards of 6 residents permanently float around in the ISS, with over a dozen there during Shuttle Missions, the idea that European, Russian, American, and Japanese astronauts could sit down, each holding up a beverage of their home nation (beer, wine, sake, vodka, etc.), and toasting to human space exploration (with ad banners in the background) would be worth way more than a 30 second spot on the Super Bowl. Well, that is debatable, but the agencies could use this money in a way that would be socially acceptable, too. Funding scholarships for science and engineering, funding outreach programs in schools, facilitating trips and tours of facilities to those who couldn't otherwise afford it.

I certainly would not pass up an opportunity to have a swig of something in space and I'm sure other astronauts haven't passed it up either. One has to wonder to what extent or whether or not it will ever become more mainstream, as ISS will be utilized for upwards of another decade.

Author's Note: When I first began my Top 15 Places to Get a Beer in Houston, TX list, Anvil Bar & Refuge had yet to open. By the time it was published, draft beer was fairly new to the bar. While I someday may update my list, I would like to let it be known that Anvil not only belongs on The Ferm's list, they belong very high on the list.

11D+1N+1C

11 Drafts, 1 Nitro Keg, 1 Cask.

Beer bars whose selections include three Saint Arnolds, two Real Ales, a Dogfish Head or two, an Independence Brewing Company selection (I can hope, right?), and several pedestrian or safe selections are few and far between. However, Anvil is not that bar. Anvil is the kind of bar that truly cares about the way their beverages are served. They house a well designed and well maintained beer serving system. Each keg even has its own gas regulator, and Anvil takes it a step further and mixes their own beer gas.

I wore out the thesaurus looking for something to describe the special release and hard to find draft beers offered on Anvil’s thirteen taps. Esoteric is OK. Impressive may be better. However, unrivaled may be the most appropriate.

Check out their beer chalkboard to see what is on tap. This link is updated weekly!

The Bar Has an Understated Connection to its City

Amongst a plethora of franchises and quasi-unique establishments owned by mega-groups, Anvil co-owner Bobby Heugel built his dream bar. Anvil is tucked away in a trendy, but somewhat unaffected area of Westheimer in Houston, TX. The building originated as a Bridgestone-Firestone store built in 1959. What makes the facility impressive, however, is the marked passion in the interior design and décor (decidedly opposite of the Red Robin corporate design). The vintage glasses, resting on shelving from a piano store the owners worked at as kids, were acquired from local thrift shops. You can rest your feet at the bar on a piece of an old railroad track that previously ran through Houston.

The bar owners renovated the interior of the bar almost entirely themselves, and while some of the most interesting features of the bar are not evident at first glance, you cannot help but feel you are somewhere special while sipping a drink at Anvil.

These Guys Are Freaks

Hidden in the “About” section of their perpetually under construction website is a note that “Anvil Bar & Refuge is owned and operated by a small group of cocktail freaks.” What you will witness when you visit are people that create each drink as if it was a small piece of art that they are showing off to friend. If you have ever been at a loud bar and watched a bartender make a cosmo or mojito, you will really appreciate the love the folks at Anvil have for what they do. The bar's dedication to serving great drinks makes Anvil a great place, regardless of the drink ordered.

The website also states: “Our bar is a manned by the same individuals who built, bartend, and manage it. Anvil is a special place for us, and we hope that you will share what can only be described as our refuge.”

It shows.

Classic, Stylish, Pretentious Down-to-Earth

Everything about Anvil’s approach to serving prohibition era drinks and great beer is stylish, from your seat at the bar to the glass in which it is served. The atmosphere is what differentiates this bar from its corporate counterparts. Bobby describes Anvil as “an expression of who we are and a passion for making cocktails and sharing our evenings with a group of friends, some familiar and some new, every night.” Some may counter that any place that is often so crowded that there is a line to get in is more pretentions than down to Earth. To this I respond, is it the bar owner’s fault that the place is popular? An owner’s job is to create the best experience possible. If you are lucky enough to be inside, it is hard not to agree that Anvil overachieves at this goal.

“the List”

After finding a place at their large prominent bar, which is always a better place to enjoy a drink than a couch, I was handed “the List.” It is a large sheet of paper with a memo under the simple title stating: “We at Anvil would be remiss in our duties if we did not mention that there are certain libations we feel you should try at least once in your life...for better or worse. Below is a list of 100 of them.” It is arranged in alphabetical order and starts with an Absinthe Drip and ends with a Zombie. If anything, The List had me watching the bartenders all night to try to match what was being prepared with the 100 items. The purpose of my first visit to Anvil was to get a taste (or two) of the new limited release Saint Arnold Divine Reserve #9, but the List is certain to bring me back.

It started with an email that Stranahan's Colorado Whiskey was hitting the shelves in Texas. The excitement of this announcement became the brainchild something much bigger. Where can friends take information only relatable or interesting among their circle and publish it for the whole world to access via Google search? The Weblog.

Blogs, as my five minute internet research uncovered, began sometime in the mid-nineties and numbered only in the few dozen by the end of the century. The term "Blog" is often attributed to Jorn Barger of RobotWisdom.com, who is to blog invention as Al Gore is to the Internet. Fast forward another decade and everybody and their dog have a blog. While they are reviled by mainstream media and The Man for being unprofessional and pedestrian, the Internet is filled with good to great blogs written by people that have not chosen the career path of a journalist. By golly, I believe bloggers should be judged not by the signature on our paychecks, but rather the content and format of our respective hobbyhorses. This is not the dream, but the reality in 2009.

On April 6, 2009, TheFerm.org opened the proverbial door with the promise to be different that the conventional review or local happenings adult beverage-related blog. The honeymoon that followed the nebulous mission statement of our first post should prove to shape the course of The Ferm for years to come. It is on this day, July 14, 2009, we mark our One Hundred Day Anniversary.

In the face of the adversity of the Great Depression in 1933, Franklin D. Roosevelt used the first three months of his Presidency to lay the foundations of his New Deal. Since then, this artificial yardstick has been used to gauge the success of every President that followed. To commemorate our first one hundred days, I would like to reflect on our accomplishments. During the first one hundred days, we delivered thirty-seven posts, which is about one post every 2.7 days. Our first month was our most prolific, with each month trailing off a bit. Maybe the decline can be attributed to a backlog of ideas... or maybe we are getting lazy. At any rate, critical to the long term success of a product is quality, not quantity. Posts such as "Pot? No But Close", "Minute Maid Park Shenanigans" (Parts 1, 2, and 3), and "1560 The Beer" no doubt made incalculable impressions visitors of all ages (over 21).

Aside from exhaustive statistics, there are other objective ways to evaluate our performance during the first one hundred days. Being that my first post walked the line between vagueness and specifics, let's revisit key promises in The Ferm's platform. We have provided easy access to our RSS, bookmarking tools, and our Twitter feed (tweets avg'ing about 1.7/day) via the homepage. We appropriately namedrop when we think it will make us sound cool (or to shamelessly optimize search engine traffic). We respectfully paid tribute to the under appreciated Bea Arthur while (for the moment) avoiding the overrated accomplishments of Farrah Fawcett (*ducks*). We recapped drinking events (Beer Wars, here and here... SAVOR) and even international breweries and wineries (seriously, do you *really* consider Hawaii part of the U.S.?). We live blogged a homebrewing day and a baseball telecast. We held an epic Anything Mock Draught. We delivered on our promise to write about mostly nothing. We even slipped in a little rhyme just to show off.

Franklin D. Roosevelt once said "The test of our progress is not whether we add more to the abundance of those who have much; it is whether we provide enough for those who have too little." If by "those who have too much" he meant The Man, by "provide" he meant write blog posts, and by "those who have too little" he meant people that surf the web at work, I personally believe that we are following through with the roadmap for America left by FDR. Every journey starts with a single step. Roosevelt got fifteen major bills through Congress in his first one hundred days. Not counting this recap, we got thirty-seven posts under our belt in our first one hundred days. I'll let the reader make his own open-minded comparisons, but I would like to place into evidence that many of FDR's programs were later undone. As of today, we have received no C & D orders for anything published. Just saying.

That commanding bravado and furrowed brow. Those quarterback-tailored pantsuits and withering put-downs. Bea Arthur was quite possibly Chuck Norris’s alter lady-ego. Her career was packed full of geeky gems like Airheads, The Star Wars Holiday Special, and Futurama. She’s even the namesake for one ultra-classy mixed drink:

Bea Arthur's Underpants
10 oz. Mountain Dew
2 oz. Vodka
1 can Beer
dash Honey

Bea, on account of endless late-night syndicated Golden Girl episodes, you shall be remembered for generations. Thank you for being a friend.