#Standard Brewery

[insidecroydon]

Mystery as Fullers exit three Croydon pubs in unseemly hurry

In the second part of his review of the hospitality trade in the borough (yes, dear reader, we sent him on a month-long pub crawl), KEN TOWL explores the reasons for one of London’s biggest and best-loved brewers’ sudden departure from its Croydon pubs. Photos by SIMON BENTLEY New Standard: the management of this Fullers pub only found out it had been sold when they received the new owners’…

[auraeseer]

Gee, old.

[haggishlyhagging]

Women were also regularly employed in brewing, at least as much as men. Medieval peasants drank rather a lot of small (or low-alcohol) beer and ale. In the tenth-century Alfric's Colloguy, which records theoretical dialogues between a teacher and his students, one young man states, "I drink ale, usually, if I drink at all, and water if I have no ale. . . . I am not rich enough to be able to buy myself wine: Wine is not a drink for boys or fools but for old men and wise men." By the late medieval period, in brewing centers such as České Budejovice, from whence the name Budweiser comes, beer was being made on a large enough scale that it was being exported to Bavaria.

Medieval people desired to drink beer and ale not because water was unsafe, but because farmwork is extremely hard. Small beer and ale added additional calories to their daily uptake in an enjoyable way. Although the wealthy were probably able to procure professionally made and imported beers, most people, especially in the earlier medieval period, made their own ale or bought it from nearby producers. Ale was brewed primarily from barley and did not include the hops of beer, which meant it could not be stored for long before going off. As such, those who wanted ale had to be constantly brewing it to ensure a steady supply, making brewing a very common cottage industry. Women who brewed for their families would often brew excess for sale, allowing them to bring in a bit of money. Because brewing was a craft that could be learned at home, women could be employed as brewers in larger commercial breweries.

We find women in the brewing trade consistently: records show them paying taxes on their gains from brewing, and registering with the authorities who oversaw standards. When someone performed below these standards, they were frequently written up, so we can find the women who were not meeting them. The Durham Court Rolls from 1365 record that Agnes Postell and Alice de Belasis were fined twelve denarii for selling bad ale, about the equivalent of two days' work for a skilled craftsman. Similarly Alice de Belasis was separately fined two shillings, or the equivalent of five days wages, for poor-quality ale, which a court proved had no strength at all. Punishments for brewing bad ale could range from fines to ritualized humiliation. In England, the Domesday Book first recorded the use of the cucking stool (which would become the ducking stool in the early modern period) in Chester to punish those who sold bad ale or ale in incorrect measures. They would be forced to sit in a chair out side their home and be jeered at by locals. Fourteenth-century Scottish laws noted that any alewife who made "evil ale" was either fined "eight shillings" or placed in the cucking stool, a nod to women as the primary brewers in the region who could face the largely gendered humiliation as a result.

We also learn of women in the brewing profession through records of accidents. For example, one coroner's roll indicates that at around noon on October 2, 1270, Amice Belamy was carrying a tub full of gruit, an agent for flavoring ale, with Sibyl Bonchevaler at her work in Lady Juliana de Beauchamp's brewhouse in Staple, Eaton Socon. As they went to dump the gruit into the boiling vat of beer, Amice slipped and fell into it and was trapped by the tub that fell on top of her. "Sibyl immediately jumped towards her, dragged her from the vat and shouted; the household came and found her scalded almost to death. She was given the last rites of the church and died on the day following. This harrowing story reminds us what a physically tasking and dangerous job brewing, especially in large quantities, could be.

This episode is also interesting because the two women were working for another woman, and a lady at that, Juliana de Beauchamp. Brewing was commonly associated with women across class lines, since the brewhouse is listed as belonging to the Lady Juliana. All in all, during these years a woman was just as likely to be brewing ale as a man, if not more likely in some instances.

-Eleanor Janega, The Once and Future Sex: Going Medieval on Women’s Roles in Society

[undiscovered-horizon]

Old dog, new tricks - Kaz Brekker x Reader

SUMMARY: Looking for someone to give you a quote on a stolen painting, you find yourself reaching out to a middle-man called Dirtyhands or the Bastard of the Barrel. Little do you know, you've met him before. A long, long time ago...

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.7k

It's pouring in Ketterdam. Black clouds cover the sky, hanging so low it looks like the bell towers scrape them. Thunder rolls in the distance. Some say that rain is refreshing, that it cleanses body, mind and soul. Perhaps it does but not in Ketterdam - the rainwater only leaves pedestrians feeling dirtier as though the coal-coloured clouds tainted it. The air begins to smell in an odd way as if the water washes something foul before falling to the cobbled streets; something not quite alive that can’t seem to die. But perhaps those somber words are true and thunderstorms truly do cleanse. In that case, it isn’t some largely unknown flesh rotting away but the sins of the city and its people washing the streets before falling down the drain like many things do in Ketterdam.

Those who can, flee the streets into the warm confines of their homes. Hats, umbrellas, even newspapers - anything just to keep the dirty water out of their faces. Some of them would mutter a swear word between pants and grunts as they made haste to the nearest shelter. Those who can’t, however, do not seem any grumpier than they usually do. For them, it’s just another day of soaking in the black rainwater stained with the unspoken secrets of the citizens. Wrapping worn-out coats tighter around their famished bodies, they cuddle the cold, stone walls a little closer before letting out a tired sigh. 

On days like this, bars and pubs earn their most delicious coin. If someone’s home is too far, a brewery is a great place to be with a good drink, a good game and tolerable food. Among the rather large group of workers, traders and unfortunate pedestrians is the most curious stranger. She stops for a moment to look above the heads, at the crow cast from iron hanging above the entrance. Dressed in a foundry worker's clothes and a patchy coat, she fits the landscape of Ketterdam like a glove. Soon, the stranger followers the other patrons inside.

Thunderstorm or not, the bar looks rather cosy and fashionable, considering its location and clientele. The standard was high enough to make the working class feel good about themselves instead of inadequate.

You squeeze through invigorated, already quite drunk, groups of people who have become friends the moment they accidentally sat at the same table. Some bump into you but they never apologize - hard to say where they can’t or won’t. Others, the sober and brighter ones, notice their pouches gone after some time when they go to make another bet. Furious, they throw their hands at the first miser their accusatory finger points to. Despite that, they do not see you, even if they do look. To all those poor bastards gambling and drinking their life away, you're nothing beyond a mirage dancing in the corner of their eye; a fleeting thought that you saw something but can't quite articulate the nature of the illusion. And just like the bar patrons, you, too, quickly dismiss the mare as a trick of the imagination. Just as soon as the thought of the phantom disappears, its place is taken by severely mundane things: a pint of beer, a frivolous smile of a scam artist, a suspiciously good streak of a cocky man.

By the bar sits a man with a top hat at his side. While all the other workers are busy losing their money, that one simply sits there with his back turned to the rest of the room. A bottom-up, empty glass is placed beside his hand. The man is waiting.

Sitting down on the stool next to him, you don’t let your eyes leave the prize. "You look like you've been around, good sir.”  The stranger turns to look at you. A spark of amusement glistens in his eyes. His brow lifts ever so slightly, beckoning you to continue. “Tell me, where can I find a man called Bastard of the Barrel?"

He turns his whole body towards you, leaning his arm on the bar counter. "Boss is pretty busy these days, you know? Might not have the time or desire to see you."

You give him a flustered smile, trying to appear a little too stupid to be cunning. "I won't take too much of his time,” you reassure him quickly. “If you could please pass the message to him that I have a painting from the Greaves' collection. I'm looking for someone who can give me a quote."

"That Greaves' collection?” he repeats. His face momentarily lights up as he surely sees right through your facade. “I thought it was impenetrable."

"They say that about every prison, don't they? And yet the world is as it is."

The man stares at you for a moment, his fingers frantically tapping the counter. Clearly, you’ve got someone’s interest. But will it be enough? 

"Quote or not, I think he'll be interested in this. Come on."

Without waiting for your response, he takes his top hat and leaves, walking past you towards a small staircase in the corner of the bar. You quickly follow in his footsteps, never getting too far from the man - you’re to appear as nothing more but his shadow.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a streak of darkness move like a plant’s leaf swaying gently when there is no breeze. Curious, you follow the disturbance to what seems to be its source - a young woman dressed in dark robes. Leaning against a wall, in the corner where the yellow light doesn’t quite reach where it should, she’s impossible to notice to anyone who doesn’t know what to look for. In that spare moment, she notices you too.

Having walked up the stairs, your guide knocks thrice on the door but doesn’t wait for an answer before opening them. There, in the small office littered with papers, you notice a face so familiar and yet strange you begin to question your own sanity. Could it be…? 

It’s like staring at a winter landscape during a toasty, summer day - you know the fields in front of you are the same but at the same time, they will never be more different. His face is more serious than you remembered. Strong, sharp features accompany his light eyes to create a truly chilling demeanour of a seasoned man. Despite undoubtedly looking like a handsome, young man, a spectre of a boy he used to be lingers beneath his skin.

Feeling lost and shocked, you frantically tear the hood off your head. "Kaz?” you’re not sure whether you’re asking him or yourself. “Kaz Brekker?!"

His eyes widen momentarily. Before he knows it, Kaz jumps to his feet, having to lean against the desk because of his leg. He doesn’t seem any less surprised, although he does appear to be better at hiding it - at least on his face. "You sly old fox,” he says in a low voice. Something akin to a smirk curved a corner of his lips upwards. “You just won't die, will you?"

You can’t help but scoff. After all those years of wondering whether he’s even alive, you find him in a complete accident. "As much as I'd love to see you crying over me, I like being a nuisance a bit more."

"You know each other?" the man, whose name you still do not know, vaguely points between you and Kaz.

To your mutual, utmost surprise, the two of you answer simultaneously: "We used to." The shock seems to drown out the hint of nostalgia and regret in your voices.

“Right…” he nods slowly. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

And before you know it, the door shuts and it’s just you and him. On one hand, again, but on the other - for the very first time. The words used to dance in a merry-go-round inside your head. Painful, yet truthful. Yes, you used to know Kaz like no one else. It sounds, you realize, as though the last time you had met, it was a different world, a different lifetime. To some degree, it’s true.

“What are you doing in here?” Kaz asks curtly. You can’t help but find his tone angry, almost accusatory. A strand of his hair falls on his face.

Unwilling to face the responsibility of years of silence, you settle for half-hearted jokes. “Your office or Ketterdam in general?”

“Both, preferably.”

Has he always been this incandescent or has longing simply white-washed him in your memories?

“Same as you it seems - work,” you say with a shrug. For a moment, the two of you stare at each other, unsure what to make of this unforeseen reunion. Then, you let out a tired sigh. If you have changed as little as you think so, he can definitely see right through you. “I won’t lie to you, Kaz, this isn’t a social call. I come here in business. I stole a canvas from Jurgen Greaves’ private collection and I’m looking for someone who can give me a quote.”

Kaz clenches his jaw. His blue eyes stare into you, maybe through you, as he clearly ponders something. Before continuing, he sits down. “I know an art dealer who might be interested. But first, you’re going to tell me everything.” Do not be mistaken - it’s an order, not a request. Truthfully, he got out of the habit of asking and pleading.

"It's a long story and a lot less interesting than I'd like to admit."

"We've all night,” he states. Not letting his gaze falter, Kaz gestures to the chair across from him. He still doesn’t take no for an answer.

He’s absolutely furious but only partially at you. It’s mostly his lack of understanding that gets on his nerves - the girl he remembered, a skilled and beautiful woman now, could have anything she wanted if she only asked. So why would you choose this path? With pearls and servants within arms reach, what are you doing in the Barrel, among murderers and liars? The surname of Greaves' resounds in his head, only fuelling his frustration: not only did Ketterdam dare to taint you, but you've also made good friends with that black stain of filth.

His chest clenches and Kaz feels disgusted for a moment. The parasite of corruption has nested under your skin, spewing its venom into your veins.

“Oh, don’t make me blush.” Although your dismissal is nothing beyond a jest, you still sit in the appointed chair. Maybe you want answers too, after all.

Still staring at you with that stern, cold gaze of his, Kaz sits back in his chair, clearly unwilling to end this conversation anytime soon. 

[haloslips]

last night two cherished friends and i went to the brewery for one round, met some cute dogs, went back to their place for homemade beef stew. i made it until 10:30 before i had to tap out and go home, which i'm pleased with. fell asleep before midnight, woke up at 12:08am, wished myself a happy new year and went back to sleep. got up to my alarm this morning and had brunch with jess, which i am treasuring especially because i won't see her for a few months now. walked around the city i live in and thought: you are living a life.

i never thought about what it meant to be alive. i was suicidal from a young enough age that it never made sense to envision the future. it took me a long time to figure out what living could look like once i realized i was going to do it; to figure out what i like and what i want. but i'm starting to learn.

last year i: watched the kraken shut out vegas with my dad and one of my best friends; witnessed genocide; took thirteen million cat photos (and even a few selfies); saw many inspiring vanity plates; moved into a new apartment; only got one tattoo; had covid again; cried about trevor zegras (a lot); restarted therapy; got a new job; listened to the man who killed my mom plead innocent; went to three different neopets meetups; rode a horse for the first time in years; danced with my friends, giddy and drunk, at one of their weddings; published two fanfictions; broke both my wrists at the same time; saw the northern lights twice; let my friends take care of me; won a game of scrabble; saw my favorite band live; learned many new things; failed at learning some things

the best advice i ever got was that life doesn't get easier, but you get better at doing it. when i first heard it i could only think about everything i had to endure, but i realized that you don't just get better at bad things. you get better at the things you practice.

i've always liked the practice of affirmations, and upon reflection these past few weeks i decided it was time for some new ones. so, for as long as i need them, here's what i came up with:

you are allowed to take up space

you are capable

you will be okay

you are safe

you have time

this year i will: have as much fun as possible by my own standards; be vulnerable even when it isn't rewarded; use my hands to create something beautiful; cry about trevor zegras; listen to so much new music; see as many of the people i love as possible; experience the epic highs and lows of seattle sports fandom; get so fucking goofy with it; miss my mom; let my friends take care of me; act intentionally; cook something new; get nervous when philipp grubauer posts insta stories from gasworks park; celebrate new milestones; take a bunch of pictures; apply for grad school; watch new movies and read new books; appreciate as much as possible; watch as the world keeps ending; rejoice as the world goes on

[iww-gnv]

ST. LOUIS — Anheuser-Busch has one more opportunity to commit to union member job security, Teamsters said on Thursday. If the company's next offer doesn't meet union member standards, around 5,000 will go on strike as soon as March 1. "The halting of beer production at Anheuser-Busch's U.S. breweries appears imminent and unavoidable," Teamsters General President Sean M. O'Brien said. "They have a harsh reality awaiting them when Anheuser-Busch breweries are empty, and Teamsters are on the streets." The negotiations continue after 99% of union members at 12 Anheuser-Busch breweries voted on Dec. 16 to authorize a strike.

[djpain619]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Aleniheim Angel Shares Ready To Rumble

So now my Dwarf Team is finally Fully Finished to my Satisfaction.

Before when I quit painting them they were "good enough" but I wasn't really happy with them. Now after a months long hiatus I was recently hit with the inspiration to finish them. I painted Up the Cheerleaders, Beer Barrels, as well as the Mascot & Fumbble Secret League Positionals. I also went back and touched up all the Linemen and standard Positionals.

So here are the Cheerleaders and the Beer Barrels. The Barrels will be uses as reroll, turn, & Score Counters. The Cheerleaders will be Cheerleaders.

They will also be used as the Crew & Cargo for my Bugman's Carts... which still require Draft Ponies. I also plan to get some crates and write TNT on them, or order some Minecraft Lego TNT blocks or something so I can run them as Mining Carts.

Here are my Linemen, Blitzers, and Slayers. For the Linemen I mainly painted the Cheek Vents and Back of the helmets as well as the Belt Buckle abdominal plate... thing. Then I updated the Backpacks to paint the Gauges, the Vents, and a little Blue Glow on the round part that I like to think is a reactor.

For the Blitzers and Slayers I just painted their Beard Jewelry and their straps red to contrast all the white and the Aleniheim Brewery A on their Back Plate. On the Blitzers I painted red stripes on their Shoulder Pads, and the Slayers Shoulder Pads I painted Half & Half.

I based the Secret League Positionals. This was actually really easy cause I just put them on the old bases for My Totengrad Tyrants Color Guard. The Color Guard has been Drafted as a Full Unit Command & spare Champion for The Old World and are now on Square Bases. So now the Secret League Positionals are on their old hand me down bases.

Speaking of I actually got another sprue of Nobility Team a couple weeks ago. The Linemen & Blitzer have already been assembled and have been added to my Free Company Militia, the Blitzer being the Unit Champion. I even Kitbashed a Sword and Pistol into his hands.

Last Up is the DEATHCOPTER. I really just did the Pilot's eyes and the Beer foam. I also painted the Aleniheim Angel Shares A on the Underside of the DEATHCOPTER's Hull.

[nice-bright-colors]

Accept. Adapt. Pivot. Agility

Or AAPA as I like to call it.

Today is The Wife’s™️ Birthday. All she really wanted was to find a new place with really good beer*, that serves a burger**, since our go-to just recently closed permanently.

Somebody*** didn’t do their thorough due diligence. When we got to the new place to try they are closed on Mondays.

So initiate operation AAPA.

Somebody**** decided on taking our chances with what we could find across the street at a standard grocery store. We will try again on Wednesday for that local***** brewery, with high hopes it will work out.

…and voilà…problem solv•ed

My take on a plant based Korean street taco with daikon, carrots, ginger, Beyond steak tips, sesame, purple cabbage, cilantro, and a Bitchin’ sauce******

I managed to fuck things up and save the day within an hour. The Scotch Ale is just an added bonus.

[recurring-polynya]

Izakaya Kamenoya, part 3

It's been so long, and I kept getting busy with stuff, but rest assured, I have not stopped thinking about every shinigami's favorite watering hole, Izakaya Kamenoya, for even one second of that time, and today I am going to talk about what's really important: what kind of booze can you get there.

The multiplicity of drink options is honestly the thing I really love about Kamenoya. On a meta level, someone has to draw all this stuff, like, with their hands. I have no idea, actually, if the animators consider this sort of thing a break from all the powering up and sword fights and rolling across cave floors, or if they consider a Trip to the Bar to be really tedious. My point is, they very well could have just always drawn people drinking out of the same cups, except they didn't, they drew a series of loving close ups of sake-pouring and a variety of drinkware styles. On a more Watsonian level, I just like the idea that, like Alice's Restaurant, you can get anything you want at Izakaya Kamenoya. So let's get into it!

I think the thing that really made me notice this was this scene from the Amagai Arc, where you see Kira doing mokkiri, or overpouring his sake. (At least I think that's what he's doing. The articles I read sounded more like the server is supposed to do it, which emphasizes the establishment's generosity, so maybe Kira is just being a messy drunk. I'm pretty sure you're also not supposed to pour yourself sake, you're supposed to do it for your tablemates)

Often, mokkiri is done into a masu, which is a small square box that was used as a standard measure for rice. You can see Nanao drinking out of one here!

What kind of cup to drink your sake out of is a huge topic, but basically, it depends on the flavor and characteristics of the sake. The fact that Kira and the Lads are drinking out of clear glasses might imply that they're drinking chilled, summer-style sake (or possibly trying to appreciate the clarity of the vintage, as if this is what you call up Iba and Renji to go to the pub for).

I am not an expert, so I'm not going to attempt to identify exactly what these different cups would be classified as, but you can see a variety of shapes, sizes and materials.

I found less information on different shapes of tokkuri (that's the slightly bigger bottle that you serve from), but those come in a variety, as well. Mostly, they have either the large, oval-shaped jugs you can see in the first picture, or the more slender white ones in the second. I am really fond of these tall boys that Kira and Hisagi have, which seem to have straighter sides than the other kind, kind of like a milk bottle.

While we're looking at that picture, there's an ad on the wall for beer. Beer!

In modern times, beer is actually the most popular alcoholic beverage in Japan, which Wikipedia tells me came about after WWII because of restrictions on the use of rice. They've had beer since the Edo era, though, and many of today's major breweries got started in the late 1800s. I love the idea that beer is a thing you can get in Soul Society, but it's clear that it has not overcome sake in popularity the way it did in the World of the Living--which makes sense, because of they never had those restrictions. (In other words, throw this in the bucket of stuff like tattoos and attitudes toward homosexuality that I think diverged from the Living World because of weird quirks of history).

In fact, Kamenoya apparently imports beer from the World of Living (maybe it also has local brews as well).

Look how lovingly that bottle of Kirin is drawn. 😂 The fact that it's shown in a glass mug in the ad, but served in a Pilsner glass here supports the idea that there are multiple kinds of beer available. Now, I believe that Kirin Zero is non-alcoholic. It's surprisingly hard to do research on beer labels from 20 years ago. I couldn't find a label that looked exactly like that, and Kirin's non-alcoholic offering seems to be called Kirin Free now (Kirin Zero is now zero-carb and I couldn't figure out if it's alcoholic or not). In any case, I am choosing in my heart to believe that this is because of weird TV censorship and in no way implies that Rukia is not one of the champion drinkers of the Gotei-13.

Don't get me wrong! I love a bar that offers non-alcoholic options! You can also get tea at Kamenoya, which you can see Tobiume and Okyō drinking below; Momo has some as well (they also have a discussion about it)

earlier posts in this series: (part 1) (part 2)

[mariacallous]

Would you like to travel in the advance party to Mars, aboard the space rocket of a man who can’t sort a livestream? Ideally you would have to get in line for this species-level honour behind thousands of Earth’s leading shitposters, who not only trust implicitly in X owner Elon Musk, but truly believe that if they grind away for hours a day telling him that on his platform, one day he will see one of those posts. I hope he does, guys!

In the meantime, my favourite recent headline on this interplanetary settlement programme ran “Elon Musk denies his sperm will seed Mars colony”. Sure. It’s just a hunch, but I feel like they’re going to have way more sperm than they need up there. It’s the other bit necessary for human life that you sense will be in shorter supply.

Anyway, from the future of the red mist planet to the future of political discourse: Monday night’s conversation between Musk and Donald Trump on X (audio only, only almost an hour late, and only for massively fewer live listeners than advance estimates suggested). It was so dysfunctional that even Trump’s dentures were trying to escape. Hours after it had taken place, Musk issued an intriguing APB: “Anyone have a <1 hour edit of the highlights of the @realDonaldTrump conversation?” To which the only reply is: sorry … what? That is like NBC putting out a request reading: “does anyone have any highlights of the Olympics?” YOU OWN THE PLATFORM. How can you not have organised some highlights?!

Still, in the absence of his, here are mine. We’ll kick off with Musk portentously informing Trump that “We’re at a fork in the road of the destiny of civilisation”. And ye shall know this fork for it is signposteth with an error screen. In the UK, we have an expression for benchmark incompetence: we say someone couldn’t organise a piss-up in a brewery. But a tech boss being unable to organise a tech event on a tech platform feels like a new industry standard: the brewery’s head of piss-ups being unable to launch a piss-up in his brewery. On Monday night you could watch live footage from any number of bird nesting boxes around the world, but it was impossible to watch any of the would-be president of the United States. That said, I’m afraid both species soiled their floors.

If only there’d been some warning that you could trust X to cock up these live events. Do recall that Musk was previously backing the former Republican nominee candidate Ron DeSantis, and managed to persuade the Florida governor to launch his campaign on X last year. The tech-fail that followed was “a DISASTER!” Not my take, fanfolk, but that of a certain Donald Trump.

Either way, making it audio-only felt less than futuristic. I saw someone say it could have been an email, but it would have worked best as a fax. It wasn’t so much like the tech revolution hadn’t happened, more like the Industrial Revolution hadn’t happened. Hopefully as time wears on, Musk will upgrade his server to a spinning jenny. In the meantime, he would like you to believe that there was some sort of cyber-attack on his ancient looms. He explained to frustrated users that X Spaces had been subject to a “massive DDOS attack”, which strangely didn’t affect any of the rest of X. This is definitely the most self-sabotaging excuse since Katy Perry claimed her recent plastic feminism single was “satire” and “a reset for my idea of feminine divine”. After Monday night, the haters need to understand: Elon’s aural frotting of Trump was satire, and a reset for his idea of masculine divine.

It was certainly a reset for the spectacle of 21st-century power broking. Behold, the billionaire hedge funder Bill Ackman, who recently came out for Trump, and who, on Monday night, could be found replying plaintively to his preferred candidate’s cobwebbed X handle: “Please let Elon know we can’t join”. Posting impotently at a presidential account that Trump has not personally used in three years to bleat that the meeting host isn’t letting him in … I’m sensing that a big part of the reset of the idea of masculine divine is old guys shouting that they can’t make their computers work. Have you tried simply switching the masculine divine off then on again?

Let’s deal only briefly with the eventual contents of Elon and Donald’s fireside chat, as long as we’re clear the fire they were sitting next to was a dumpster, sparks from which had long since set both their pants on fire. “I want to close the department of education,” Trump slurred at one point. According to Trump, Biden was ousted in a “coup”. Hey, at least the Democrats can organise a successful one.

For a genius, finally, Musk’s interview technique is surprisingly like that of a nitwit breakfast host. (Donna Air once asked the Corrs how they met.) He guffawed his way through most of Trump’s ramblings, reserving special admiration for the authoritarians and dictators he’d encountered. Trump mentioned meeting with Kim Jong-un. “That was cool,” gurgled Musk, whose platform is banned in North Korea. “If something happens with this election,” concluded Trump, “we’ll meet the next time in Venezuela, because it’ll be a far safer place to meet than our country.” Fortunately, as is the case with pretty much anywhere ruled by these freedom-loathing strongmen, X is also currently banned in Venezuela. So at least we’d be spared having to glitch our way through another meeting of minds like this.

[mrtheengie]

Prepping the Engine

Erik oils around the motion, while Adrian consults the Fireman's Handbook to find the route code for the long-way-round to Kapilens from Sitarisoros. Their cargo is grain for one of the several breweries in the former city.

And here is their steed. Built in 1491, 103 was the fourth in a line of 7ft Gauge locomotives built to the pattern of Mr. Estrade's famous Standard Gauge, high speed 0-6-0. It represents a significant leap forward for the design, and contains many improvements, including a larger boiler to help it run for sustained periods at speed.

The engine has had a very long carrier spanning 233 years as of 1724. During that time, it has been an express engine and a commuter engine, and has been allocated to sheds all over the country. Erik started with the railway as a teenager and quickly fell in love with this ancient beast. He became its regular fireman, and then its regular driver.

Erik left the railway some years ago to become a private contractor, and he took 103 with him. Instead of passengers, 103 now carries freight behind her tender. An 0-6-0 with 8 foot high driving wheels may not be best suited for freight traffic, but the engine has plenty of power, and Erik makes sure not to over do it. 103 is in good shape, and has never once suffered at the hands of her operators.

[insidecroydon]

Fuller's close their doors at The Spreadeagle for a final time

Changing hands: the Spreadeagle, on Katharine Street, will no longer operate as a Fuller’s pub The Spreadeagle, one of the town centre’s biggest and busiest pubs, closed its doors as a Fuller’s-branded establishment for the final time last night. The pub, in a prime location on Katharine Street next to the Town Hall and Central Library, will remain closed for a few days, before it is expected to…

[monstersandmaw]

Alcoholic beverages brewed by different races.

Elven wine is light and airy, brewed from sap and nectar and honey and berries and other fine forest ingredients, soft and subtle to the taste, they're not heavy drinkers but see it as elegant and high-class and fancy.

Dwarven wine is brewed from underground roots and tubers. Deep and rich, like more potent root beer. They prefer bolder flavors and occasionally bring in herbs and spices from above ground to experiment with different mixes.

Goblin wine is definitely an acquired taste for non-goblins. Their cuisine prominently features fermented food and so does their brewery. To the unfamiliar it might taste spoiled or rotten, but to goblin standards it's the finest stuff. Sours and bitters are the strongest hints in their brews, not exactly something most humans would find appealing.

Orc wine is extremely powerful and potent. They even have to come with warning labels to be marketed to other races. To orcs, even fine dining is seen as a glorious challenge, and some even put burning hot spices mixed with their drinks as a further test of will and strength.

Centaurs, fauns and satyrs, being part ruminant, typically stick to the usual grain-based beers. But like how many grazing animals have highly efficient livers that can process alcohol quickly, they can casually down large quantities of the stuff without getting intoxicated or having any ill effects.

Merfolk don't exactly drink, so the next best thing are very mildly toxic seafood to have a similar effect, something along the lines of dolphins tripping on pufferfish. They strictly control the use of these, however, as a misuse can be dangerous, and have a code against making landfolk try it as they don't have natural resistances like the merfolk do.

Oof I love all of this! I didn't know that about grazing animals having efficient livers... interesting fact. Now I'm picturing minos, centaurs, satyrs, and fauns etc. being real heavyweights.

(I would posit though that elven alcohol can also be breathtakingly strong (think fruity schnapps) too).

[onboardsorasora]

I’ve been thinking of omega Daniel in the reclamation verse and meeting Jules. That baby is nesting and not letting Jules leave his sight

Daniel is in his apartment sifting through his laundry, trying to find the sheets and blankets and pillows for his nest that smell like Max. Nothing smells like Max and its kinda disconcerting. There is this other scent though, its familiar but Daniel couldnt quite place it.

He's sat on his bed frustrated, when he hears the door open. The sound of keys tinking in the ceramic bowl and shoes being taken off. Then that scent... Daniel furrowed his brow.

"Do you remember to confirm with Sewis about- why are you looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face?" Jules patted his cheeks while Daniel continued to stare at him dumbfounded. A pillow thumps to the floor from his loose grip.

"Is that a new shirt?" Jules asked before heading into the kitchen. Clearly Daniel needed a minute, and fair, a lot has been going on recently since Daniel took over the brewery. He was allowed to be a bit frazzled.

"I- no. I designed this last year- am I going crazy right now?" Daniel muttered before taking a big breath. "you smell almost the same, not quite the same...so you're not my Jules." Daniel watching his movements like a hawk, drinking in the unfamiliar but achingly familiar sight of his best friend looking through his fridge, then his cabinet then fridge again. It seems that in every universe at least- Jules was the same.

"You designed it? Is that your new side hustle?" Jules was talking into the fridge like a normal person. Daniel bit his lip so he didn't cry. This wasn't his Jules but it was still Jules.

"Y-yeah. gonna start a clothing brand." Daniel said softly, he smiled when Jules gave up his quest for food and looked over at him.

"You wanna order like a pizza or a fried chicken burger? I'm starving." Jules took his phone out to open the food app.

"Yeah sure, order me whatever." Daniel grabbed up the sheets and blankets and moved to the couch. Things didn't smell like Max for some reason, but they smelled like Jules and this was an opportunity that Daniel was not going to give up. Not on his life.

The nest wasn't the best by his standards; he didn't have his regular things on hand and he wasn't about to make a stink about it. It wasn't perfect, but it would be comfortable. Because it wasn't the nest that mattered, it was Jules.

"Wanna watch something while we wait?" Daniel asked, standing by the transformed couch, shifting from leg to leg almost antsily.

"Yeah sure, that movie you wanted to watch should be on Netlfix now." Jules walked over and plopped onto the couch, in the middle of the nest. He shuffled a little before propping his arm up on one of the pillows Daniel put for that very reason. "Hey this is extra comfy, figured out some new tricks recently? I ordered you a fried chicken burger bee tee dubs."

Daniel grinned and sat beside his best friend, staring at his profile while he used the remote to navigate the tv.

"Why are you staring all of a sudden. Don't tell me you fancy me now? You waited too long Ricciardo, you'll have to duel to the death with Liz" Jules flicked an imaginary lock of hair over his shoulder and Daniel cackled.

"Yeah Nah, Liz can keep you. God bless her for putting up with your ass. I just missed you is all, you asshole." Daniel bumped their shoulders together.

"Bro I was barely gone for a weekend." Jules rolled his eyes, "I missed you too." He flung an arm over Daniel's shoulder and the omega took another deep breath, committing this Jules to memory. The familiar ba bum of netflix signalled the show start.

[ent-is-undecisive]

Mr jonny sims you're having me considering the architecture of this building and how the lifts even work

The characters can be hearing voices from lack of sleep and be mentally tortured through an art piece and im just hanging out having fun but have a character rely on technology as it gets away from him and i am uncomfortable enough to stop reading every few pages. This is why i use technology as little as possible.

[stoked2surf]

Okay so things have changed up some this week!

we were in town (Santa Teresa) and talking to one another about the current living situation and the work we were doing (or lack there of). we both jokingly mentioned just leaving and getting an airbnb in town if it was cheap!

the work we were doing was not work at all and it was not rewarding in any fashion. When we signed up for the work stay it was described to us that we would be doing a lot of farm work, brewery work, and building projects. but when the owner of the organization told us a week into our stay he would be leaving for 3 weeks to go to Israel we were pushed into doing mundane brainless work like sewing a big shade net, or by his request 6. now it seemed really weird as his wife/partner was gone too and we were left with the workers who stayed with us to be the lead of these tasks, but with none of them speaking english it was hard to direct us to do more complex tasks and that’s why the volunteers were pushed into seeing instead of what we were told originally. so we ended up not learning anything it really building anything until our last few days. but at that point we were so done with that place!

I’m not gonna trash on the place publicly but there were some things we were not happy about that we both felt didn’t meet the living standards adequately for human health.

so we found out the car guy would give us a full refund for the days we didn’t need the car for and instead we would use that money to get an airbnb in santa teresa for the remainder of our trip. we found a sweet little surf shack for only 35 dollars a night, what a score! we went into town saturday for a night at a different place because we had no other plans as the original plan was a bioluminescence tour but since it rains so much it wasn’t worth it. we grabbed a cheap airbnb with hot water and short walk to the beach and hung out for the night cooked dinner and watched a movie in a clean home for the first time in three weeks. now i’m all for cold showers in the heat but not having hot water to clean off sunscreen and mud or get soap out of hair is a real drag! i get that in some cultures it is the norm but since we are fair skinned gringos on the equator we need to cake on some zinc and that stuff needs warm water to get fully off the skin. now feeling clean for first time in almost a month we realized how deprived we were of comforts.

sunday we informed our friends are mangrove that we were leaving and heading out monday morning. we packed up and moved into our new home at noon.

it’s a surf shack at the northern end of santa teresa up a steep hillside. and i mean very steep! it’s about a 600 meter walk to the beach but 300 meters are a 45° incline. but we were warned by the host prior and honestly it’s not the worst it really makes that cold beer feel earned. the walk down is beautiful, in one of the photos you can see on the decent through the trees is a wonderful view of the oceans aqua green water meeting the horizon. yes i really get to see this every morning on my way to surf it’s so rad.

we spend our mornings making coffee and hitting the beach as soon as possible and i surf for a couple hours or more while Annagrace does yoga, reads, and sunbathes. Then we go home refuel and hydrate and hit town for an adventure to so shops or grocery stores.

In costa rica they have sodas which are outdoor covered places to eat for cheap. the food is locally sourced, fresh, and “typical” which is what they call the dishes locals eat. we stopped at one right down the hill and it was the most magnificent food i’ve had in a long time. and it was only ~$12 usd!!! It’s a large portion of rice beans and salad with whatever protein you choose along with plantains. I got mahi and it canes with 4 mahi steaks, fresh and locally sourced. thats insane.

we spend our afternoons reading over espresso at a local shop or walking the beach looking for seaglass. today we grabbed food walked some and heading home to chill out since we stayed on the beach extra long and got too much sun. the weather most of our time here had been sun and monsoons on and off but since we left and moved down to the beach its been full sun all day and rain at night, which is lovely on the tin roof for sleep!

we are living life and i am realizing that there is so much stoke in the world to find and such little time. where am i going next and how? is a question ive started asking myself pretty often… well just have to see because American “life” seems so mundane now.