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The Retro Review

Nintendo Gameboy

Red light... slowly... fading... noooooo!

Behold, the gadget that engraved an irritating 8-bit loop of Russian ‘music’ inside the minds of millions… the toy that spawned a zillion pound shop knock-offs… the one and only Nintendo Gameboy was the ultimate early 90′s accessory. I defy the man who tells me he never went to bed with visions of  4-squared pieces dropping towards him; manipulating them with the power of thought alone and wondering why, even in your sleep, you never seem to get a long one when you need it.

Despite the Gameboy’s monotone display and having lost an early lead in the handheld market to Atari and Sega, Nintendo mopped the floor with all of its’ handheld competitors on account of the only machine that was in any way good. Whilst today the Gameboy would look like a concrete block in the hands of a young child, back in 1990 the only electrical device smaller than a Gameboy was a pocket calculator. And even some of them were fairly fucking hefty. If you had big pockets, you could carry the Gameboy around with you without even using your hands. This was a really significant factor in the Gameboys’ success because back in those days kids actually used their hands for things other than playing video games and changing the channel on the tv.

Another great feature of the Gameboy was its super-sturdy exterior. Man, you could kick that white brick around the garden when your football went over the neighbours’ wall and there wouldn’t be a thing wrong with it. Of course, this was made in a time before the major electronics manufacturers started making everything real flimsy. Once they realised how many times people were dropping these handheld devices they soon got wise to the ways of shitty production. The Gameboy (and it’s successors) have combined sales of over 200 million units, a truly astonishing figure and one that means you can forget about keeping your Gameboy locked away, in the hope that some day it will become a highly-valued collectors item. You might as well bring it out for a kick about.

By | 25 Jan 2010 | 3 Comments

Hydrometer

Hydrometer

Listen up, here come some Science bits.

The specific gravity or (SG) of a wine or beer is the density of the wine/beer in relation to the amount of dissolved sugar in it, the more sugar (less alcohol) the higher the SG and the less sugar (more alcohol) the lower the SG. Water typically has an SG value of 1.000. Specific Gravity is measured in degrees and the tool we use to measure it is called a Hydrometer. The Hydrometer is the single most important piece of kit in the amateur winemaker’s or brewer’s toolbox.

Regularly measuring the specific gravity of a wine will enable us to stop the fermentation at the correct time so that we can make a Sweet, Medium or Dry wine depending on the amount of sugar we decide leave unfermented in the wine. The specific gravity will also enable us to calculate the ABV (Alcohol by Volume) of the wine/beer.

Whether we’re making wine or beer, we always take a Specific Gravity reading  of the Must (wine) or the Wort (beer) before we pitch the yeast. This is called the OG or Original Gravity. This is our starting marker. When fermentation has completely finished or if we decide to stop the fermentation at a specific SG reading, we call this value the FG or Final Gravity. Alcohol by Volume is calculated by the following formula:

ABV% = (OG-FG)/7.36

Hydrometers are calibrated to a specific temperature (usually 20 C) so in temperatures above 20 C, the recorded SG will be lower than it actually is and in temperatures below 20 C the recorded SG will be higher. This is partly why keeping a constant temperature of around 20/25 C for the entire fermentation process is very important. Varying temperatures will produce varying and inaccurate SG readings however if the temperature remains constant throughout, the SG readings, while slightly out will produce more accurate results over the fermentation period.

Reading a Hydrometer

Reading a Hydrometer

To take an SG reading of your wine/beer, syphon some of the wine/beer off into a trial jar and float the hydrometer in it. Spin it gently between your finger and thumb to remove any CO2 bubbles that may affix themselves to the hydrometer and produce inaccuracies and take the reading from the bottom of the meniscus.

Regular SG recordings are very important as they give a very good indication of what is happening in your wine/beer and can alert you to stuck fermentations, finished fermentations and the times to stop the fermentation.


By | 23 Jan 2010 | No Comments

I was always lead to believe that girls were sweet things.  When I was growing up, girls were girly girls with fancy paper and pink things and pig tails who smelled like flowers.  Not like boys who were dirty and scruffy and covered in snot and smelled like a mouldy bag of Tayto.

This continued through my teens as when I went through secondary school the girls would always walk past leaving a pleasant waft of perfume in their path.  This would be a welcome change to the cronic body odour coming from me.

Boys would get acne and spots and suffer the concequences.  Girls would get acne and spots and cover it in make up.  This served two purposes, one was to cover up said spots and the other was to send the boys into a frenzy.  Boys never knew that girls were wearing make up to cover blemishes, they just saw a girl in make up and their balls took over from there.

Such is teenage life.

This is why boys are unprepared for the realities of real girls.

Girls are people too, but to a teenage boy they are walking tits in make up.  The trouble is that most men (read, all) never grow out of this stage.  Some will advance their way of thinking to walking ass, pussy or feet which is kind of weird as feet actually walk.

It’s not my fault that I was not prepared for what I was about to encounter.  When we were supposed to be studying in the hall in school, we were actually passing around the latest porn mag that Trevor had stolen from his father’s latest trip to Amsterdam.  Those mags only cemented the fact that girls were perfect and wore make up just for us and wanted to be naked for our pleasure.  Awesome.

First times are not like the movies or your imagination.  Girls dream of romance and gentleness.  Boys dream of tits and being told their so big.

My first kiss was with Stephanie.  It was pretty much a standard first kiss for both of us, neither of us knew what the fuck to do.  Too much tongue.  Too much sucking for some reason.  Like being reciprocating a wet vac.  When we pulled back after a minute or so a huge string on spit hung in the air and swayed in the light summer breeze.  Not knowing what to do we looked at each other in shock and utter disgust.  In reflex, I sucked and the entire thing snapped away from her lips and slid right down my throat.  Then she burped and got sick a little bit in her mouth, but before she could swallow it again, she coughed and spluttered it all over me.  We never saw each other after that.  Probably for the best.

The first time I felt boob was with Jessica.  It was a wondrous time for both of us.  Well I say that, she looked pretty bored if I remember correctly, but I’m sure that was just a front.  Soft and squishy and firm and lovely.  Well, the right one was, I wasn’t allowed near the left one.  I would have protested, but I risked being denied access to the one I had already, so I said nothing.  I said nothing, but pretended like I didn’t hear her and reached for the left one anyway.  In the commotion of her telling me to get ta fuck and me trying to compare soft/squishy/firmness I came away with yellow goo on my hand.  Turns out she had a massive pimple on her left nipple and it had chosen that moment to burst.  I never got boob off her again.  Probably for the best.

First time I got boob in mouth action was with Sandra.  This was awesome as she had actually asked me if I wanted to try it out.  So there we were, in a woods somewhere huddled under a hollow tree with me lapping and sucking away like a parched llama.  She had that bored look I that had become so familiar and comforting to me over time.  After a minute or two I switched nipples and continued my llama trick, until I felt a tickle at the back of my throat.  I tried ignoring it, but it wouldn’t be ignored.  Then I felt a tickle on my lip.  I came up for air and brushed my mouth.  There on the back of my hand was a hair.  A little short and curly hair.  This would explain the tickle in my throat and the weird hairs that I could now see on her nipple.  I threw up a little bit on her face and she left the woods screaming and crying making me look all the more suspicious when I emerged.  I saw her the next day in the chemist buying a tweezers.  Probably for the best.

The first time I stroked a kitty was with Emma.  That was awesome.  Until we both discovered to her relief and my shock that she wasn’t in fact late in getting her period.  She left happy.  I saw her a while later in the chemist buying tampons, we pretended we didn’t know each other.  As did I and Sandra who was there buying another tweezers, having presumably worn the old one out already.  Probably for the best.

hairy nipple

First time I licked a love mitten was with Lisa.  All was going great even if I was being confused by the look of pleasure on her face.  Weren’t girls supposed to be bored?  Ah well, we both got into it.  She got more relaxed and I got more enthusiastic.  After about 47 minutes, she told me not to stop so I clamped down and kept going.  She humped and thrashed and then shuddered to a halt.  She was spent.  She was also more relaxed than she’d been through the whole experience.  So much so that when I came up for air she farted.  That poor little methane cloud never saw much fresh air.  It left her and entered my lungs, assaulting my taste buds along the way before either of us knew what had happened.  I was too busy coughing and trying to suppress my gag reflex to see her dress and leave.  Probably for the best.

The first time I got to sink my sausage was with Laura.  All was going swimmingly, literally.  It was so moist down there I could have done with a snorkel.  I thought it was because she was still fully dressed and perspiring.  So I stopped for a minute to sensually undress her.  Figuring that I was going to be with a fully naked female for the first time, I decided to stick the lights on and take it all in.  I should have remained ignorant.  There on the bed was a sweaty panting mess in front of me.  Her hair was matted from the sweat.  I didn’t think leg hair could get matted, never mind grow so much.  As for her underarm hair, she looked like she had a Cuban fruit picker in a head lock.  I started to wonder where I had been sinking my sausage as the area that I should have been able to see was covered by a Cuban barber’s floor sweepings.  Don’t even get me started on her toe nails that were longer and yellower than even the most neglected nursing home patient.  I went and bought some porn and tried to instill some ignorance back into my world.  Probably for the best.

I’ll spare you the story of the first time trying anal.

Porn saved me from turning gay and kept me ignorant long enough until I could realise that women are just human like men.  It also told me I didn’t have to pick the girls that no one else would touch with a shitty stick.  And to realise that sometimes, just sometimes, graffiti on a toilet wall is gospel.

By | 23 Jan 2010 | 3 Comments