Walls in Dubrovnik

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Originally uploaded by nickmoles.

After Mljet we went back to Dubrovnik. The city is surrounded by giant walls, mainly to keep out the Turks. In fact, most of the towns in Dalmatia are surrounded by walls to keep out the Turks. At this point I'm not a big fan of the turks.

I'll put up some more pictures tomorrow or sometime this weekend.

The Lake

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Originally uploaded by nickmoles.

Half of Mljet is covered by national park, which is mostly forest and lake. By lake i mean two saltwater bays that are connected by small channels to the sea. In the middle of the largest lake is an island with an old monestary in the middle. We went out and relaxed and swam across to the 'mainland'.

It would have been a great day, but in the middle of it I suddenly started to exhibit flu-like symptoms, which would affect me through the rest of the trip. Stuffy nose, sneezing, sore throught, drowsiness. That sucked. But since I was on vacation I decided to ignore it and continue to swim and sunbathe and such.

Of course, it's two weeks later and i'm still coughing up stuff from my lungs. bah.

The Beach

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Originally uploaded by nickmoles.

Jana described this beach as 'cheesy', but I was amazed. Just a great place to spend a couple of hours. If you look down below you can see another shot of the beach at the beginning of my croatia pics - this beach is small, surrounded by hills and cliffs, and opens onto the open ocean. Amazing.

Mljet

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Originally uploaded by nickmoles.

After Hvar, we took a ferry to Split and immediately jumped on a bus to Dubrovnik, where we spent a night in an unpleasantly crowded campground. The next morning we jumped on a ferry for Mljet, which was a welcome reprieve from the tourist hoardes.

According to legend, Mljet is the island where Odysseus spent seven years kickin' it. And understandably so. We arrived and immediately jumped on some crappy local bus. I had the name of an autocamp, but didn't know where it was - turns out it was in the middle of nowhere. We walked in, set up our tent, and realized the view was not so bad.

Then the proprietor of the place drove us to the beach...

Catholic Festival

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Originally uploaded by nickmoles.

Later that night, in Jelsa, we came across this religious procession, which came from Jelsa's small hilltop cathedral to the town church. I think it was for the Fest of the Assumption, which like any good Cathlic, I know absolutely nothing about. But it was amazing - Priest, guy carrying cricifix, then some nuns, then all the town's men in cassocks, then some monks or trainee priests or something.

They were all carrying tall lanterns with red candles inside, which made for a very striking scene in the twilight. Literally every resident of the town was there for the mass, which was celebrated outside in front of the church.

I, as I said before, find the country's devotion quite charming. But at the same time, it's an expression of nationalism, as the Bosnians, Serbs, and Croats are ethnically and linguistically the same people, they're just divided by which direction they turn for religious guidance.

But as a Catholic I like it a great deal. And the country has excellent beer and schnitzel. And nice beaches. And beautiful homes. I really can't recommend a visit to Croatia highly enough.

Croatian Churches

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Originally uploaded by nickmoles.

Above is a Catholic church in Hvar. Every Croatian town has one, and every town has a bell tower rising above the white stone walls and red tiled rooves. I fould it charming, and wish people here took as much care of their churches. They make the town centers so much more pleasant.

Hvar Town

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Originally uploaded by nickmoles.

On the other side of the island from Jelsa is Hvar town. It's similar to other little croatian towns - narrow streets, defenses against turks, etc... But Hvar has become a hotspot for the international glitterati, or as I call them 'the asshole set'.

The place was full of trendy bars and dolled-up italians, with a bevy of yachts in the harbor waiting for a few coke-filled orgies. I was most annoyed by the snot-nosed american kid we passed, wearing shorts, a blue dress shirt, and a baseball cap. Just classic WASPy white trash.

But the town is beautiful. A lot of renaissance architecture that you can't find in other cities. Would I recommend it? Maybe ... as long as you avoid July and August.

Jelsa

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Originally uploaded by nickmoles.

After our enjoyable afternoon on the beach in Bol, we took the local high-speed ferry to Jelsa, on the island of Hvar.

Jelsa was a cute little town, with the traditional croatian Catholic church, a pleasant waterfront, and crystal clear water. We lumbered over to the autocamp, which was situated on a peninsula jutting out into the sea. Jana and I strategically set our tent up about 10 feet from the waterline, which was almost perfect. Only problem: annoying french teenagers...

After that we walked down along the road back to town, and decided to jump in the water. From there I took this picture of the sunset.

A couple of weirdos

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Originally uploaded by nickmoles.

Actually the gf is pretty normal...
Here's a picture of us along the promenade in Split. I'll post some more pictures tomorrow.

Cheesy

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Originally uploaded by nickmoles.

Jana just learned the world 'cheesy', and is quite prone to overusing it. Nonetheless, it's quite appropriate here.

Zlatni Rat

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Originally uploaded by nickmoles.

Zlatni Rat is probably my favorite beach in the entire world. It's a pebble finger sticking out into the adriatic. Behind it are just pine trees, with the mountains rising up behind the forest. A beautiful place to spend an afternoon.

Last time there were about 15 people with me on the beach. This time there were about 2000, making for a much less relaxing experience. But I have learned my lesson: no more beach travel during July and August. Must avoid those parents with kids on summer vacation!

Brac

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Originally uploaded by nickmoles.

Pronounced, 'Bratch', Brac is my favorite island in croatia. By far.

Jana disagrees, but I just get a great vibe from this place. Especially the interior, with its vineyards and olive groves and piles of stone. The ground there is rocky, and the farmers have to remove the rocks before they can till the fields. They tend to dump these in lines down the hills and slopes, making for a pretty landscape.

The lonely planet tells me that the stone used to build the white house came from Brac. Hot damn.

But I like brac because of the beaches. I mean, check out the above picture. how could you not like this?

Rooftops

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Originally uploaded by nickmoles.

I'm convinced american cities wouldn't look so crappy if they had red rooves. It plays a big part in making eurocities cute and postcardable.

But instead we have flat rooves with AC units on top. Thanks, capitalism.

Miss Kotenova

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Originally uploaded by nickmoles.

Accompanying me on my journey to the Balkans is Jana Kotenova, nominally known to readers of this blog as 'the gf'. Her official title is Ing. Kotenova, which is something like Engineer, the title for people with masters degrees. I like to call her Ingcha, which means little Engineer.

Sometimes people won't sell her alcohol here, 'cause she looks too young (and that's pretty young, as the legal limit is 18, and anyone over 15 can get booze easily). When denied alcohol, she proptly informs the proprietor that she's and Engineer, and that she expects her alcohol to be promptly sold. The proprietor apologizes profusely, and the Jana tells me about it when she gets home.

I tell her she should stop complaining, and be happy everyone thinks she's 17.

Windows

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Originally uploaded by nickmoles.

Croatia is still a great country, which is why I was willing to travel there a second time. The gf wanted to go here for our week off, while I wanted to go to the Black Sea coast of Bulgaria. I lost.

But I'm satisfied in my loss. This country is beautiful. We went to Dalmatia, the southernmost part of Croatia. It consists of a narrow strip of land, cut off from Bosnia by the Dinaric Alps. Aside from the mainland, there are hundreds of islands, several quite large, along the way.

With the coastal cities so overcrowded, Jana and I decided to spend most of our time on the islands. This was the proper decision.

Crowded Croatia

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Originally uploaded by nickmoles.

The New York Times ran a story on croatia this year, saying it was the hot new travel destination. I groaned. Hipsters and wannabe-aristocrats were sure to sink the country into some sort of crappy psuedo-italian fashion nightmare.

Well it wasn't that bad, but close. it was CROWDED. Lots of weird italians and french and everyone flooding into the city. Last time I spent three nights in Split, this time just one, as there were simply too many people.

Down to the Balkans. Again

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Originally uploaded by nickmoles.

Back in '02, when I was still a bright-eyed student travelling around Europe, I decided to head down to croatia. I had no idea what was there, where to go, or how cool it was. I wrote down some hearsay and third-hand stories about the place, purchased a ticket, and went.

Much to my surprise Croatia turned out to be a beautiful country, almost untouched by tourist hoardes. The country had fought an independance war against Yugoslavia in '95, and still bore many scars. I remember waking up on the train, about 2 hours out from split, and going through abandoned and ruined villages.

Nonetheless, Split, Dubrovnik, and a couple of the islands I visited were great. Beaches were practically empty as I went at the end of May, before the summer travel season in Europe begins. Accomodation was dirt cheap - around 10 dollars per night.

But this time things were a little bit different...

Various

For all those demanding pictures of my beard, I am afraid I must disappoint you. There are currently no pictures in existence of my facial hair, and nor will there be, until it starts to look a bit better. On the other hand, I saw a guy today with an adidas symbol tattooed on his forehead. He looked like he was coming off a bad trip of some kind, with this girlfriend helping him to eat something on a park bench near the train station. He's gonna be pissed when he wakes up and realizes he got a stupid tattoo on his forehead. Retard. Oh, and yesterday I was watching CNN sports, and they had some cricket statistics on the screen. I saw the worlds "England win by three wickets" and started laughing, 'cause that's so lame.

Blogging Croatia

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Originally uploaded by nickmoles.

Greetings, faithful readers! I had an important task this evening: photoblog my trip to croatia! But unfortunately I am at the internet pub, I've had 3 beers, and I absolutely must take a leak. Unfortunately I can't leave my computer on the table, as my roomate hasn't joined me - he was out until 7am today at the 80's disco. Instead i must leave the Croatia Photoblogging for work tomorrow, when I can devote the amount of time to the subject that it deserves.

In the meantime, enjoy this picture of a beach I went to.

I have a beard now, too. it's cool, 'cause i hate shaving.

High School Band

Apparently my old high school band is in some sort of television competition. Check out the website for more details. http://laketravisband.com/news.html

A little something for those bored at work

I am fascinated by European cultures. So many have successfully resisted assimilating into their larger bretheren that I am able to trip and fall into a different country every weekend. I usually don't enjoy Time magazine that much, but they have a good primer on some of the more interesting of the micro-eurostans. Check this out if you are extremely bored at work. damn it, when i use my computer at home Blogger doesn't allow me to add links. anyway, check out this website: http://www.time.com/time/europe/html/050829/story.html

Perhaps the greatest news story ever!

Los Angeles - Sacha Baron Cohen aka Ali G was dunked in the sea by Pamela Anderson's bodyguards - after rugby-tackling the actress at her dogs' wedding. The Ali G star was dressed as his other creation, Kazakhstani TV journalist Borat, when he pulled the stunt. Cohen, 33, in trunks, leather jacket and Village People-style cap, emerged from the surf on an inflatable turtle. His rugby tackle sent Pam, 38, hurtling to the sand on the beach at Malibu, California. Concerned security men grabbed the comedian and dragged him into the sea. Pam was presiding over the nuptials of her Golden Retriever Star to Chihuahua Luca. - Ananova.com

Blogs

By the way, you might notice a couple of blogs over to the right of the website. They belong to my friend Joey and my sister Amanda. Both are English majors, and apparently being an english major means writing a whole lot of crazy shit. Anyway, check out their blogs, quite entertaining.

Working

When Bruce Bartlett was the deputy assistant secretary for economic policy at the U.S. Treasury under George H.W. Bush, boredom occasionally drove him from his cushy Washington office to seek relief at the movie theater. One afternoon, he ran into a friend who was a senior official in another department. "It was kind of awkward," he said. Bartlett had a secretary, staff, an important-sounding job and the paycheck to go with it. But, like many workers, he found himself underemployed and bored out of his mind.

Article here. Read the whole thing, it's great.

Monkey Business

Pardon my lack of posting. I’m currently embroiled in a good bit of politicking at my place of employment. Trying to get promoted means letting everyone know what you want to do, and making they understand you aren’t going to settle for anything less. I’m quite ill-suited to it, since I am usually polite and unassertive in settings that require much more frank discussions. I’ve spent the week in a series of convoluted meetings, trying to figure out where the logic block lies in my path to the proverbial pot of gold. Today I have identified that block, and I will have a meeting with the block next week. I will make it clear that the block’s ideas on my future aren’t going to work, as I have no interest in following the assumed path. Success at this point looks questionable, but I have definitely learned a great deal during this experience. Truthfully, I guess I’m relearning how to be a competitive monkey up in those trees, far away from the nurturing bosom of hearth and home-tree. I’m gonna get my apples one way or another.

Moderation

The trip to Croatia was fantastic. Warm pebbled beaches, crystal clear ocean, and overpriced beer. So in some ways it’s good to be back in the CR as winter descends. And it is coming. Like an ominous sign from a pagan animal-god, winter is lurking, sending its dark tendrils about over the landscape, and depressing this little immigrant. Croatia was warm and sunny while I was there, pretty much every day consisted of lying on the beach in 75-85 degree temperatures. My sunburn was moderate, my facial hair was untrimmed, and my freckles made their long-awaited entrance, to much fanfare. Prague, on the other hand, is an enemy of those freckles. Sure enough, the moment I get off the bus, a cold breeze blows in. Today it is probably 60, dark, and rainy. The trees are all confused, and seem to be losing their leaves already. So I’m preparing. Long dark winter…it’s survivable with the help of pubs and friends. Walking around the icy central square isn’t so bad if you have a cup of mulled wine. And those icy nights are much more pleasant if you’re friends with a Czech girl. I will defeat winter with the indulgence of God, as the only way to get through it is to break as many sins as possible while avoiding those damn lightning bolts. Or as I call it, ‘moderation.’

Hvar

I am currently hanging around on the island of hvar. by reputation, this is the sunniest place in europe. well, i am sitting in the internet cafe right now precisely because that is not true. in fact, this is the second time i have been to hvar when it has been raining. sunniest place my ass... one thing i like about this vacation is that after wednesday i have no idea what i am doing. i know i have to be in split on satuday evening to take the bus back, but in that time i can just find a beach and a campsite and aggressively achieve a nasty sunburn. sounds like a plan. where is my lazy guestblogger?

Greetings from Croatia

Somehow I managed to survive the 20-hour bus ride, and I made it to Croatia safe and sound. Last time I came to the Balkans I took a train, which wound its way around a few bombed villages in the Knin area. I distinctly remember waking up, groggy, and seeing this weird landscape outside: red/tan hills, scrub, and houses without walls and roofs. This time I woke up in the Knin area, but along the coast. Somehow the communists managed to capture the sheer tackiness of american ocean cities perfectly. Garish colors, ugly hotels, giant communist apartment blocks that look EXACTLY like the awful condos in Ocean City, Maryland. other weirdness so far: 1) I was listening to Soundgarden's 'Black Hole Sun' as we descended into the Danube valley and into downtown Vienna. I never thought that combination would occur. 2) Some kid walked over to me and put a hand on my belly, then was yelled at by his mom. I'm not sure why, but apparently my growing belly has magical powers of attraction. The girlfriend seems to think so. 3) After one day in the sun all my freckles have come out. They lie in rest until the first day of the year that I sunbathe, then make their triumphant entrance with a resounding *-*. Again the girlfriend was impressed. I'm off to the islands tomorrow for some camping. I'll try to post if I come within swimming distance of an internet connection.

Greetings from Croatia

Global War on Terror...at Home

Back when I was about 16, and first had access to the internet, I remember being extremely excited that I could download SETI@home, which was a screensaver that used your computer’s latent processing power to search through interstellar radio signals, analyzing for any sign of alien communication. In retrospect, it’s kinda lame, but back then I thought it was a great way to become involved in the search for Wookies. Now the US Military is purchasing new ‘killer-drones’ that are able to basically fly themselves.

“Defense News notes that "unlike Predator, the ERMP will be able to take off and land automatically" -- handing off the trickiest parts of piloting a drone to a computer. Which means that the ERMP can be flown by young enlisted men, instead of by the ex-fighter pilots, who now operate the Predator fleet.”

I can’t wait for the day when I can download GWOT@home, a screensaver that will use the latent processing power of my computer to run a killer drone in search of terrorists. In between looking at inappropriate pictures on the internet, I can play with the drone and turn Abu Fundamentajad into a oily smear. But truthfully most American teenagers would just fly the thing around and then crash it. Or shoot at each other while looking for alien spaceships. I would like to chase some confused cattle around the Sahara for a bit. I'd just get lost and end up flying my killer-drone around canada, shooting at igloos. Teenage-powered long-range killer-drones - hm, perhaps this isn't such a good idea.

August and Vacations

I have some free time at work today, as everyone I work with has been on vacation this past week. I'll be going on Friday, after which Honeywell will shudder to a complete halt. The American vacation is very different from the eurovacation - not in what people do, as Europeans also eat ice cream and wear inappropriate beachwear for their age and body mass. It is in the length that the difference comes out - for example, I get five weeks of vacation. This is my first job. The term to use here is 'injustice'. But I'm not alone. Check this out:

With many employees entitled to up to 11 weeks annual leave, thanks to the 35-hour-week laws introduced four years ago, the French are taking more breaks. However, they tend to be shorter and holidaymakers have less cash to spend when they are away.

11 weeks of vacation! That's 21% of the total year spent watching reruns of the french dubbing of Judge Judy! Americans average about 3 weeks, which equals a much more respectable 5% of their year. But the French are paying for their sloth:

The French now have so much free time that they cannot afford to enjoy it, tourism professionals said yesterday, blaming a sharp fall in summer hotel and restaurant revenues on the average Gallic tourist's newfound parsimony.

My dad always says he has enough money for a vacation but not enough time (as if 7 weeks weren't enough), and that the europeans have it right. But there is definitely a balance, and the French have passed it. There's a word for not having enough money, but more than enough time, to go lay on the beach. It's called 'Unemployment.' Apparently the people over at the International Herald Tribune are having trouble finding anything to write about as well. The IHT has an excellent article on the differences in American v. Euro attitudes about holidays. This figure does amaze me though:

The Families and Work Institute, a nonprofit organization in New York, conducted a survey of 1,003 wage and salaried employees in the U.S. work force last year. The survey, which had a margin of sampling error of plus or minus 2.2 percentage points, found that among those who had the option of paid vacation, 36 percent said they were not planning to take all of it. This, surely, is a statistic that would be met with bewilderment in Europe.

I always wondered if it's because there's more stuff to do in Europe. I mean, from Austin you can either drive 5 hours to Padre or 11 to New Orleans. Or you fly. In Europe you can take a bus for 10 dollars that drops you off in some former imperial city on some gorgeous Mediterranean beach. Which sure as hell beats South Padre Island.

Eurocrats vs. Euroboobs

I remember, right after the terrorist attacks, George Bush pleaded with people to return to the shopping mall, saying that if we didn't shop then 'the terrorists will have won'. This eventually morphed into a joke, and soon college students were using it to convince females that the terrorists aims will have been fulfilled, unless the ladies removed their bras. I came up with a similar, but less funny saying to describe the little ridiculous things about the European Union. It came from the fact, after the CR joined the EU, that Czech restaurants were no longer allowed to let their goulash simmer for three days. Apparently this was against the EU regulation that food be served within six hours of being prepared. I deployed my slightly less funny saying with skill, using it to point out a bad haircut (Mullets are against EU regulations) and the hair salon/bar near my old dorm, which absolutely positively HAD to be against EU regulations. EU regulations are the product of people who are paid too much to do too little. As they're all liberal socialists, they feel guilty about being lazy, but not too much. That means they do very little real political reforming, and a lot of little garbage. Case in point:

A dirndl is a traditional costume worn by women in Bavaria and Austria. It is characterised by a generally rather revealing décolleté and consists of a dress and apron with a tight, low-cut top whose figure enhancing effect is accentuated by a short white blouse. Bavarian barmaids typically dress in dirndls. However, under the European Union’s Optical Radiation Directive, which is to be voted in the European Parliament next month, employers face heavy fines if they fail to protect their employees against the risk of sunburn.

This EU directive will come into direct conflict with me, as I will be attending Oktoberfest in September (?), and fully expect to get drunk and harass the fraulein (beer wench in English...well not a direct translation...) serving me my massive beer. I like these beer-serving bosoms, as they are an affront to all those fascist terrorists out there that would prevent me from oogling these beautiful teutonic beauties. Or oogling the beautiful, massive, dripping brew that these women are going to present to me. So there's my excuse: Mom, I have to go to Oktoberfest or the terrorists will have won. I further enjoy the bashing of the fellow-europeans:

Heinrich Traublinger ... called the proposed directive, “a new proof that the Brussels bureaucrats are totally out of touch with reality.” “Such a stupid idea can only originate in rain-drenched Brussels,” he said.

Europeans, as my friend (and future guest-blogger!) Kyle said, enjoy bashing each others countries. They like to insult the food, the women, the language. Or they go on and on about how their empire was bigger back in the 16th century. No one here seems to get that they're all a bunch of white people with greasy food and a bad taste in dance music. But they are all a bit absurd, just look at the phenomenon known as Robbie Williams. As Kyle said, "Maybe if we based the war in iraq on the argument that too many men there have mustaches we’d have the support of Europe. That’d be easier to prove than wmd anyways." Anyway, for something completely different, the aforementioned Kyle Sonnonstine will be my guestblogger for the next week while I'm on vacation. Other more relevant blogs have guestbloggers while their author is out, so I figured why not this little slice of daily revelation? I'll be in Croatia, so I'll try to post some, but since the trip will consist of camping I'm not sure what my internet availability will be. Kyle is sorta outsourced, and will have comperable stories to tell about beer drinking and criticism of the absurd. So please shower him with nonsensical comments and I'll be back around the 21st.

moravian wedding

I went to a Moravian wedding this weekend. It wasn't much different than a regular wedding in the states - same dress, same indistinguishable aunts, and a few young people. The most interesting thing is that the Bride's father brought a large amount of homemade alcohol with him. Since he specifically wrote 'Vladi's Wedding' on the bottle, I felt I could not properly enjoy Brian and Vladi's wedding without getting inebriated off the local brew. I conspired to manage 8 continuous hours of drinking slivovice (the homemade plum brandy) and beer by taking advantage of the generously free bottles of water. I also ate much schnitzel, and somehow made it until 10 o'clock before passing out (we started drinking at 1). I was escorted to my room by the gf, after I fell in the woods while trying to retrieve the kidnapped bride (another Moravian tradition). I felt like crap during the night, but woke up hangover-free. This is after having 5 beers and 10 shots of incredibly strong alcohol the day before. Jana actually used the word 'injustice' to describe my non-hangover. I was proud.

Free will is just an illusion

Maybe not...

I sent Kyle an email with this subject line: "I thought you might enjoy this a great deal." The link: http://www.local6.com/news/4809394/detail.html The headline: "H.S. Coach Reprimanded For Licking Players' Bleeding Wounds" The response: "Why? Why would I enjoy that?" I don't know why, but I burst out laughing.

Happy Birthday Kyle

Today my old friend Kyle turns 25. We parted under difficult circumstances, as living together for three years will do. It all turned sour the time I stole your corn, which left you emotionally scarred and prone to inconvenient lactation. I couldn't take living with you after that night you brought home those two female clowns and the bear cub. The sound was intolerable, the discarded fur was a mess, and I don't want to know what you did with the 2 jars of honey. Sure, the beer was good, but a relationship can't be built around beer alone. I don't miss all the nights when you brought Tom over, leaving me to fend for myself against his frequently exposed hindquarters. And the fumes from your tuna surprise probably knocked 5 years off my life. But then I remember your Enrique serenades, and remember why the hell I had to leave the country. Happy Birthday, biatch.

A beer lover complains

I am not optimistic about the future of beer. I have escaped the beer wasteland of America, a land of false promises (Miller Light:"A True Pilsner") for the frothy goodness of Prague. But I know that every 5 minutes someone in America opens a Zima, and I am helpless to stop it. And the news keeps getting worse and worse. That damn ‘Sideways’ movie is the cause of it. I detailed in a previous post why I detested the ‘wine-influenced buddy movie’. But I say it again: a drinking movie shouldn’t have guys crying. I know that eventually I'll turn into a Wine guy, but that sure as hell doesn't mean I'm going to cry while chatting with my friends. But apparently America has become a land of sissies.

For the first time since the Gallup Poll began keeping track in 1992, more Americans say their alcoholic beverage of choice is wine, not beer. According to Gallup, 39 percent of U.S. drinkers said they imbibe wine most often, while 36 percent said beer is their favorite. The rest prefer liquor, and a small percentage rate all three equally. Technically, the pollsters said, wine and beer are statistically equal, considering the margin of error.

But there are still people out there fighting the good fight.

Jim Koch, who stars in commercials for his Samuel Adams beer, is unbowed: "I've been to these wine tastings, and they actually spit it out! We beer people actually enjoy drinking.

"We beer people actually enjoy drinking." I want that on a shirt. I want to go to some stupid Napa Valley wine tasting and loudly heckle some 'Indolent Wives Wine Club'. Now I know what the crusaders felt when the Pope called them to arms all those ages ago. I have a battle cry, I have my leader. I look forward to further revelations from the Great Koch.

Tastes great, less filling" was yesterday's debate. The latest battle brewing among beer makers: cans vs. bottles. It all started this month when Boston Beer Co. president Jim Koch, the maker of Samuel Adams, released his Beer Drinker's ''Bill of Rights." One major tenet: ''Beer shall be offered in bottles, not cans, so that no brew is jeopardized with the taste of metal.

Can this man do any wrong?

At B-Side Lounge in Cambridge last week,, 25-year-old Kimberly Newton clutched her 16-ounce Schlitz and declared: ''I am a can girl." Newton defended her beer against Sam Adams, saying the aluminum keeps the beverage frostier than bottles, and cans make it easier to gulp.

Kimberly disposes of her credibility the moment she refers to herself as a ‘can girl’. She should skip of the annoyance of having to gulp down her Schlitz and get directly to the puking on the sidewalk in her underwear. But the Czech Republic has it right. Draught beer all the way

Most Czechs look down on beer in cans and many even avoid bottled beer because there is nothing like draft beer or točené pivo.

I am home.

One definite growth area is for women. Female drinkers are keen on specialty beers, said Trýznová, who added that Hoegaarden, an InBev beer imported from Belgium, is popular with the ladies, thanks to its smooth, fruity taste. ... Dark beers are a persistent favorite with local women, perhaps thanks to an old Czech wives’ tale that says drinking dark beer enhances a woman’s bust.

Today's post has been a winding tale of beer and wine, of cans and bottles, of the lumpenproletariat and the glorious bosoms of Czech ladies. Some people ask me why I live in this country. I usually spout some nonsense about 'exciting business opportunities in the emerging economies of eastern europe.' But it's really all about the chicks and beer, man.

What's happening in the 'hood

Sometimes i wonder what's happening back in Lakeway. Then I talk to people that are there. Apparently there ain't nuthin' happnin' out there. Tacos and beer, man. Just tacos and beer.

Brian is an Idiot

My friend Brian is an idiot. Actually he's pretty much the damn smartest guy I know, but on Satuday night he proposed the damn stupidest thing I've heard in a while. Brian is a business guy, working primarily in technical sales. All of his knowledge and experience is about to confront the enemy of all that is logical and efficient: marriage. A foe most ambiguous and emotional, that which cannot be defined or reasoned with. Brian decided it might be a good idea to put together a 5 to 10 year plan for his marriage. A great idea if you're the Chinese Agricultural Commissioner, not so good if your future job role is Chief Appeaser of Irrational Female Emotion. Putting together a powerpoint presentation detailing the cost/benefit analysis of having children, career moves, and socio-demographic income levels within such a manifesto aren't going to appeal to the emotional part of the female element. And contrary to Brian's enthusiastic belief, such a powerpoint presentation will not be well received by the target audience, especially while the aforementioned target audience is on her honeymoon with the aforementioned idiot. Let me repeat: Thou shalt not give a powerpoint presentation on your honeymoon. I laughed my ass off at this idea, quickly describing in my nonsensical psuedointellectual alcoholic-bard brogue how the warm glow of a romantic honeymoon will be ruthlessly extinguished by such a power point presentation, leaving Vladi (Brian's woman) embittered and prone to chain-smoking and angry rants about the modern world. And, as Brian is a techophile with a propensity for whipping out his PDA in inappropriate circumstances, converting his new wife into a Neo-Luddite on his honeymoon would bode ill for the future of his Union.