Dunklefahter

I rely on my bike for transportation, brew my own beer and bake my own bread roast my own coffee. But mostly I post about my cat and my dog and what I had for breakfast. Because I love breakfast. And I love my dog. And I have a beard.
This point of view—faster than a walk, slower than a train, often slightly higher than a person—became my panoramic window on much of the world over the last thirty years—and it still is. David Byrne in Bicycle Diaries
If proto-humans had experienced Arabica coffee in their highland fastness it would have been in its raw form, whereas today it is used almost exclusively after roasting - so much so that most people outside the coffee trade would be hard pressed to say what a green (raw) coffee bean looks like. The almost miraculous, quasi-alchemical transformation of coffee in the roasting process can be created easily enough in the home: all that is required is a large handful of unroasted green coffee beans and a large cast-iron frying pan preheated (but not oiled) on a hot ring. Stirred constantly with a wooden spatula, within minutes the beans acquire a golden hue. Occasionally, sputterings of complaint can be heard, an odd explosion like that of corn popping, caused by steam expanding within the cell structure of the bean. The heat starts to transform the unpromising, torpid vegetable matter into that wonderful substance, roasted coffee. Some smoke, heavy with oil and moisture, clambers limply from the pan, and the beans patchily break past their golden threshold and acquire a brownish tinge. The explosions become more frequent, and the occasional bean flies out of the pan. The dull brown beans now turn rich brown and oily, and the aroma of the smoke that pours from them is like incense for the gods themselves. Finally, amidst a profusion of popping and smoke, the process has to be stopped quickly to prevent the oily beans blackening into worthless soot. This is best accomplished by pouring the coffee between two metal colanders outside in fresh cool air. Clouds of white chaff (the detached remains of the silverskin) waft into the breeze. The sound of the roasted beans will strike the ear, brittle but curiously strong. After a few minutes, the beans will cool, and VOILA! - roasted coffee, perhaps one of the most dramatic transformations of natural plant produce that human intervention has yet devised solely for its pleasure. After ten minutes or so the beans are ready to be ground; the aroma then released is extraordinary, rich and sublime. Roasted coffee contains over eight hundred separate flavour and aroma components, most of which form in the crucible of the roaster. This strange alchemy accounts in part for the hold that coffee exerts over our imagination. Anthony Wild, in “Coffee: A Dark History”
I don’t like being outdoors. For one thing, there are too many fat children. Monty Burns

Every year at this time, I’m over a month into cultivating an awesome winter beard when I remember I’m going home for Thanksgiving so then I have to trim it way back so my grandma doesn’t give me dirty looks for looking like a woolly crazy-man in all of the family portraits.

This lady came in yesterday and she said, “Oooh, I know how much you love coffee,” and then she gave me some of her favorite instant coffee to try. And that was nice of her.  I thanked her for sharing and tried it later and boy was it was not good. It was the Olympics of not good.

She came back in later and asked how it was and I said it was good because I didn’t want to upset her. And she said, “Oh, that’s good because it’s really good for you since it has lota of Ganoderma extract!”

So I looked up Ganoderma. And then I cried. Bitterly.

If the third ingredient in your cup of coffee is anything other than the cup, you’re drinking a Bullshit Cup of Coffee.
rstevens

IT’S A MUSHROOM, YALL. SHE FED ME MUSHROOM COFFEE.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ganoderma_lucidum

GAWD!

Okay so I was getting into bed last night and I put my hand down to
see if anything was there where I was about to lie down and there was!
So I was like ACK! and I pulled my hand back because it startled me,
and then I reached out to touch it again and see what it was, so I felt it
and squeezed it gave it a little shake and then I was like OMG I JUST
GRABBED MY GIRLFRIEND’S FACE AND SHOOK IT.

She totally didn’t even wake up but I stood there frozen in terror for
probably three minutes.

I told her about it afterwards, in the morning, and she was like “omg I’m twittering this” and then she did.

YOWZAH!

As a jogger/cyclist/pedestrian, I feel like I try pretty hard to observe, respect, and follow traffic laws when I get the chance to. And sometimes, like this afternoon, I see a large family amble into the street mid-block when there’s a crosswalk right over there, and traffic is flowing quickly both ways. It’s frustrating because it undoes all the law-abiding I do.

Canada geese. Stupid birds.

Pelican. Ramekin. Peliramekan.

Pelican. Ramekin. Peliramekan.

It really justifies every negative thing ever said about the medium.

From: Chris
To: Becca
Date: Wed Nov 11, 2009 at 8:58 AM
Subject: Re: Happy Veterans Day!

Good morning, Rebecca!

Thanks for the warm wishes, but I fear they’ve been misdirected. You know I’m not a veteran, right?

I was piddling around online this morning and happened to see all the Happy Veterans Day messages on twitter. This one [ http://twitter.com/ccepero/statuses/5621307177 ] caught my eye. Because it made my eyes bulge in disbelief. And so my disbelieving eyes were caught.



Re-tweeting somebody else’s Happy V-Day message quite literally shows the least amount of appreciation possible. There’s no original content, no original sentiment. No effort. “I’m just saying that Lance Armstrong supports our troops!” It’s even worse than the cliche “putting a magnetic yellow ribbon on the bumper of your SUV” because that requires the effort of obtaining and applying said magnet. It’s kind of like having somebody else put a sticker on your car for you. Or, perhaps its more like indicating that somebody else put a sticker on their own car, and that that is sufficient for you because you took a picture of them putting the sticker on their car have uploaded it to your blog. On your way to Starbucks. Or something.

It’s so far removed from anything human.

Anyway. You caught me feeling rant-y. Sorry.

You did it correctly. You wrote down some sincere wishes and shared them with people you value. (While protecting their privacy with some BCCs, no less! Good on ya! I need to teach that trick to a few aunts and grandmas of mine.)

And since I have the day off, I have the time to do likewise. So I’ll go now and compose a letter of thanks to the veterans I know.

Happy Remembrance Day.

And Lance Armstrong loves you,

C.


On Wed, Nov 11, 2009 at 7:27 AM, Becca wrote:
> I asked God for inspiration and faith - He sent me you.  I hope you have a
> fantastic day!  Thank you today and every day for providing inspiration to
> those you come in contact with!  Please know that your accomplishments may
> only be nationally recognized by some one day out of the year, but are
> appreciated by all every day of the year.

> You are AWESOME!!!
> Rebecca


Chris is the friggin tops!!
http://unclefather.tumblr.com/

My simple "Going for a jog!" checklist.

If you’re gonna run, don’t run—

  1. with scissors,
  2. with your eyes closed,
  3. with your hands in your pocket,
  4. with your shoes untied, or
  5. into a trap!