Studio Hive

[EDSBS] Spicy Livin', AMERICA AMERICA AMERICA edition

In celebration of the fine fellows across the pond what we overthrew back when Thomas Jefferson was alive and filly-slappin', friend-of-the-program The Gurgling Cod directs us to a delightful concoction served at the Manhattan Lounge in Athens. It contains Cheerwine, bitters, and Old Overholt Rye, and goes by the name of "Red Blazer," which on the Friday before a holiday weekend is well close enough to Redcoat for our purposes. Offer one to a friend, then punch him in the mouth while the glass is in it. Tell him he's lucky you're not on a boat, or he would've gotten Two If By Sea. Tell him the Swamp Fox sent you. [hic]

(Read the rest at EDSBS.)

[SBN] Arizona bar serving lion burgers during the World Cup

Say, sports fan, is your local sports bar running cheeky drink specials in honor of the World Cup? Swell! It pales in comparison, however, to a joint in Arizona serving lion burgers, made, we're sure, with 100% American-born giant cats.

[Because] lion meat has a "very rich flavor" that risks being overwhelmed by add-ons, the burger is seasoned only with "a little salt and pepper and a little fresh herbs" with chipotle mayonaise served on the side. No cheese on the lion burger, and certainly no lettuce, because, as Selogie put it, "The King of the Jungle doesn't eat lettuce."

Yes, that makes perfect sense. In fact, there's your marketing campaign right there. "Hi. I'm a lion. And when I'm cannibalizing my brothers on the savanna mixed with only the finest sirloin, I stay right the hell away from vegetables. Lettuce: Not Even Once."

(From SB Nation.)

Say, sports fan, is your local sports bar running cheeky drink specials in honor of the World Cup? Swell! It pales in comparison, however, to a joint in Arizona serving lion burgers, made, we're sure, with 100% American-born giant cats.

[Because] lion meat has a "very rich flavor" that risks being overwhelmed by add-ons, the burger is seasoned only with "a little salt and pepper and a little fresh herbs" with chipotle mayonaise served on the side. No cheese on the lion burger, and certainly no lettuce, because, as Selogie put it, "The King of the Jungle doesn't eat lettuce."

Yes, that makes perfect sense. In fact, there's your marketing campaign right there. "Hi. I'm a lion. And when I'm cannibalizing my brothers on the savanna mixed with only the finest sirloin, I stay right the hell away from vegetables. Lettuce: Not Even Once."

(From SB Nation.)

[EDSBS] The Digital Viking: A wobbly salute to Memorial Day

Spicy Living for the discerning holiday weekender.

[EDSBS] The Digital Viking: Soldier Bear

Welcome to the Digital Viking: The EDSBS Guide to Spicy Living. Published every Friday, the Digital Viking embraces zesty living with a six-part review of the essentials:

--A patron saint invoked for inspiration

--Drink
--Comestibles
--Combustibles
--Transit
--Canon

Diligent study of the Digital Viking's recommendations will increase spiritual happiness and liver circumference. Apply weekly and live daily for best results.


PATRON SAINT: Wojtek.  When does a bear get to be patron saint of Spicy Living? When he kills a mess of Nazis, that's when.

Sometimes, across the vast plain of history, you see a single arm waving hello. Sometimes, if you squint hard enough you can recognize its face, see the contours of its eyes, its smiling mouth, and recognize a familiar spirit, a great soul, someone embodying the values you cling to no matter how harshly the winds of life bluster: love, friendship, courage, humor, and an abiding love of gluttony and outdoor defecation. Sometimes, if you're lucky, you see these.

Sometimes that figure is a beer-drinking, cigarette-loving, fearless bear who carries artillery shells.

This week's patron saint is Woytek, the Soldier Bear, an Iranian Bear adopted by Polish artillery in World War Two who decided that the perfect way to scare the scales off of anyone crossing their path was to make sure they had a live bear hanging out of their truck window on the way into battle. Brought up as we were on condensed milk from a vodka bottle, Woytek lived and slept with the men, acquiring a love of beer (his favorite beverage) and cigarettes (he ate them) as the unit fought with the Allies across Europe. He once caught an Arab spy sneaking into camp. We have no data to back this up, but suspect the force with which the man shat himself ripped the very fibers of his pants to shreds because WTF A BEAR.

Woytek went on to carry artillery shells at the Battle of Monte Cassino in Italy, one of the many skills his masters taught him. (He supposedly knew how to turn on the camp shower.) Snipers never shot him, presumably because the only thing more frightening than a war-bear are the men he calls master. In between firefights, he wrestled with the men, drank beer, ate cigarettes, and covered his face with his paws when soldiers chastised him for getting into their food lockers.

Woytek eventually died at the age of 22 in a Scottish zoo, where veterans paid their respects by throwing cigarettes at him to eat. We want to clone him and take him for long walks around the park, after which we will sit at the bar and drink until we're full. Then, we shall ride him home as he zigzags down the sidewalk.

(Read the rest at EDSBS.)

[EDSBS] The Digital Viking: EDSBS's Guide To Spicy Living

HONORABLE MENTION BECAUSE THIS IS POLITICAL BUT TOO GOOD TO PASS UP: Know what's awesome about the first vestiges of the Facebook generation turning into real live grownups? There is a young woman running for the Tennessee House who refers to herself as a "former model," and when she says "former model", this is what she means:

That sound you hear is me kicking myself, hard, for just having registered to vote in Georgia instead.  Whatever your party affiliation, you can surely agree your stodgy Statehouse could use about twelve of her, assuming the stuffed caterpillar is part of the package.

(Read the rest at EDSBS.)

[EDSBS] Spicy Livin', Episode 2.2

DRINK:  PAMA Pomegranate liqueur.

Yes, pomegranate martinis are all the rage in the exurbs these days, but that doesn't mean you need to ruin your cocktail by drizzling thick syrup reductions therein. This delightful vodka-and-tequila-based concoction will add some tart flavor without straying too far across the Girl Drink Rubicon.

(Still ironing out some post-WordPress template headaches, namely funnily-justifying margins, but the rest is entirely readable at EDSBS.)

[EDSBS] The triumphant return of Spicy Livin'

Our offseason lifestyle column returns to EDSBS:

Welcome to the Digital Viking: The EDSBS Guide to Spicy Living. Published every Friday, the Digital Viking embraces zesty living with a six-part review of the essentials:

--A patron saint invoked for inspiration
--Drink
--Comestibles
--Combustibles
--Transit
--Canon

Steady study of the Digital Viking's recommendations will increase spiritual happiness and liver circumference. Apply once weekly for best results.

(Mind the formatting; we're still trying to work out a template that works on both our old WordPress and new proprietary publishing platforms.)

[Consumption] LUSH Bath Bombs

Back to the LUSH well already, but I can't go any longer without talking about their most glorious offering, the Bath Bomb. 

While studying abroad a few years ago, I took a nasty fall and sliced my leg open deep enough to need oodles of stitches--and couldn't get the bandages wet for six weeks.  SIX.  WEEKS.  After some horrifying experiments with plastic wrap and trying to shower with one foot in the awesome claw tub in our flat, I resorted to baths. 

Everything LUSH sells is fantastic, but these little darlings are simply genius.  (Pictured at left:  The Big Blue.)  They're packed full of herbs, dried flowers, extracts, and occasionally glitter (watch out for that--sometimes it's buried in the middle and it's ground very fine and you won't notice your lovely sheen until your bedmate lifts a shimmering gold limb in disgust and stalks from the room to go rinse off). 

Instructions:  Drop one (1) bomb in a full tub of water and observe as it fizzes and shoots around and makes bubbles and smells divine and try very hard not to clap like a seven-year-old.

[Warning:  No matter how much fun it looks like, do not climb into the tub until the fizzing is finished.  Any glee you may feel at the sensation of the bubbles whisking around your toes will be overshadowed by the fear that the ball of bicarbonate will go zooming straight into your nethers.]

They'll run you $5-8ish depending on how big they are and what's in them.  You can get them via the website, but you're better off finding one of their stores and sniffing through the bins yourself.  And blowing your entire paycheck on bath toys for grown-ass women.

[Consumption] Redken/Nexxus, remixed

It's easy to slip into pathological vanity wherever your best feature's concerned.  Mine can be found bouncing atop my noggin. The only person on this planet with better hair than me is Kaitlin, and it's a mark of what a precious critter she is that I don't scalp her out of sheer envy.

I have the thickest mane in recorded human history, and it's usually running wild down to the middle of my back because I've had it cut by the same stylist since 1991 and NO ONE ELSE IS ALLOWED NEAR IT WITH ANY CUTTING IMPLEMENT and getting back to Tennessee and into her capable hands is a twice-yearly prospect at best right now.  It's not dry, coarse, or frizzy, but it's got some natural curl to it that can be tricky to handle when it's as short as it is right now, and there's so f'ing MUCH of it that I stick with intensive moisturizing products to keep the lot of it weighed down.

By the grace of Redken, I'm able to go six months between cuts without looking like a sawgrass patch from the forehead up.  It took lengthy experimentation with three of their product lines before I found a combination that worked for me--look through their fetching rainbow haircare family to find your path to follicular glory.   My stylist usually sticks with their Clear Moisture line, depending on how much damage my hair's sustained in the previous six months, which is fairly lightweight and works perfectly fine when I've got freshly trimmed layers to show off, but those layers grow out fast, and after a couple weeks I start to look like the Jesus-Lion and need something with a little more heft.