GABS 2013 - wondering where the notes went 12 months on

Approximately 12 months ago i let it be known that i was heading to GABS 2013 to follow up on the awesome work achieved and sensational beers drunk at GABS 2012.  I promised a thorough review and some more sparkling notes and biting, sassy beer reviews and this is what happened...

Day 1 - a sensational day was had and many an amusing note was written, but sadly after kicking off at midnight, following it up with a pub in the city, some beers at the footy, we then ended up at the bar formerly known as the Comfy Chair for some night cap drinks.  Alas, this is the last known location of my GABS guide from the days events and all those brilliant insights were lost to the ages and a pall fell across my mood, with the one caveat - there was still tomorrow, still a chance to make amends, still a chance to wonder why i wrote that about a certain random beer...

Day 2 - another sensational day was had, despite a slow start due to the lingering ill-effects of the previous sensational day.  Day 2 was primed for making amends and the comments were more biting, more witty, more verbose in describing not just the taste, but the grander spirit of the beer.  Alas, these were lost shortly after leaving the grand old lady that is the Royal Exhibition Building and once more these nuggets of life, love, beer and numberwang were lost for the ages.

Tomorrow, i'm returning to the scene of the last two events for GABS 2014.  This year i'm not making any bold proclamations, nor any seemingly innocuous promises that i will be unable to keep.  But i will endeavour to enjoy the event and record my thoughts both on the beers and the occasion via short rambling sentences and hoping that the records are not lost.  Wish me luck.

Giddy Up Piggy

GABS 2012 - looking through the bottom of an empty glass 12 months on

*cough* *cough* it's a little dusty around here.  apologies for the absence.

here's something i've been meaning to put up for a while - a documentation of my thoughts from 2012's Great Australian Beer Spectapular.  which for those not in the know was a brilliant collection of 60 craft beers brewed especially for the the festival (and then some post-festival-selling-and-profit-making-by-the-brewers!) and beer nerds such as myself.  i sampled 26 (including an accidental double), but sadly only made notes for a few.  a couple are amusing, but mainly to myself, so please forgive the indulgence.

i didn't drink them in numerical order of the beer, but that's how i've set it out.  with its name and description followed by my brief, yet still somehow rambling, notes.  there's also a few pearls of wisdom that were sprinkled throughout the evening and recorded for posterity.  including this lovely first snippet of gold from my good friend Fan.

Hop Lovers are like Kraut Rock = Cold Music/Cold Feeling. German.
Malt Lovers are like group hugs by the fire.

2. Epic Zythos (IPA). well rounded lad - worth a large
6. 8 Wired C4 (Double brown ale with coffee).  Great - BIG!
8. Garage Project Double Day of the Dead (strong black lager). like - strong, good strong.
10. Harringtons A Bit of Kiwi Wit (New Zealand Witbier). soury but not too much.
12. Moa Cocoa Weizen (Chocolate wheat beer). Been there!
13. The Mussel Inn Smoking Swine (Smoked Manuka beer).  didn't taste it but it smelled like your clothes after a night by a camp fire.
16. Yeastie Boys Gunnamattta (Tea-leafed IPA). good.

it's not a tuba.

18. 4 Pines Beetroot Belgian Ale (Strong Belgian Ale). nice and fruity, but beetroot isn't a fruit.
19. Barry Cranston's Brown Dog (Australian Brown Ale).  good work Barry - my kinda beer.
21. Hopdog Children of Darkness (Barrelled Black IPA).  tastes black.
22. Illawarra Saison Rouge (Red Saison).  alcohol is starting to distract, still good.  x2.
24. Lord Nelson Last Consignment (American Brown Ale). bitter.
25. Murray's Bob's Farmhouse Ale (Farmhouse Ale).  meaty - belgian.
26. Pinchgut Red PLZ (Red Lager).  lacks lustre it does.

a zealous love for beer.

27. The Mash Collective Amasia (Rumweizen).  Pepperpry possibly.
31. Boatrocker Aotearoa Smash! (California Common).  bland like Daryl Somers.
32. Bridge Road God Save the Lager (Imperial Pilsener).  Good.
33. Bright Resistance Red Ale (India Red Ale).  Malty Yum.
34. Grand Ridge Sarsaparilla Stout (Stout).  smells like medicine.

average paddle time/number of attendees x index.

41. Mornington Peninsula Grouch (Imperial American Amber Ale).  first large.  unsighted.  goood choice.  goaty.
42. Mountain Goat Top Paddock (Spiced Red Saison).  spicy saisson.  prefer others from stable.
45. Red Hill Sticke Alt (Secret Alt).  good - not outstanding.
48. True South Coconut Telegraph Porter (Coconut Porter).  no lime in the coconut, but i drunk the bowl up.
49. Moo Brew Belgo (American/Belgian Ale).  almost slipped through the cracks.
51. Steam Exchange/Lobethal Bierhaus (Double Dubbel IPA).  i'm not coherant.
57. Little Creatures/White Rabbit The Little Rabbit (Belgian Style Ale).  fruity belgian - not so much.
59. The Monk Sweet Potato Porter (A variation on USA style pumpkin beer).  Porter - no great potato.

Anyhoo,  as you can see there was a distinct lack of sense in the majority of these posts.  Am just disappointed not every beer got the treatment!  So this friday and saturday i intend to be a bit more fastidious in recording notes against each beer i try at GABS 2013, while still maintaining that great rambling short sentence structure we've come to know and love.

Brilliant Book Titles of the 19th Century

So it turns out my new favourite title for a book written in the 19th Century was written by a Kerlin.  This is good.  Not sure i'm willing to recommend it for a read though...

Isaac Newton Kerlin (1834-1893), The Mind Unveiled; or a Brief History of Twenty-Two Imbecile Children (Philadelphia: U. Hunt & Son, 1858)

Something i enjoyed reading...

Hunter S. Thompson plus is drinking plus the Kentucky Derby = a good gonzo read





note: you may not recognise Ralph Steadman's name, but you'll know some of his work

Helping out a friend...

A friend of me e-mailed me the following question on a friday afternoon... What's a cool name for... Wait for it... A booklet to help you...wait for it.... To get through your exams?

So being the good friend i am i sent them back a few suggestions...

• The totally cool way to get through your exams.


• The totally cool way to get through your exams - remember P's get degrees!

• Ten easy ways to cheat through your exams!

• Man vs Wild's guide to surviving your exams!

• Ice cold tips to get you through your exams.

• It's a Friday arvo and someone asked me to come up with a name for this booklet.

• How to juggle nights at the footy sheds and passing your exams.

• Ten key staff personnel to bribe in order to pass your exams.

• Jamaica's bobsled team's guide to getting through your exams.

• If you're smart enough to be able to read this title then you probably don't need this booklet.

Blind Punch Drunk

I'm sure you've all heard of the sayings "Blind Drunk" and "Punch Drunk", but have you ever thought of what would happen if you combined the two and what the resulting "Blind Punch Drunk" would look like?

Well if you haven't, check out this link and enjoy the beauty that is "Blind Punch Drunk".

Debating the Merits of Rachmaninoff

Pingu: "I always rated his Piano Concerto No. 2 in C minor to be of a more lugubrious character than the Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini, though by no means any less deserving of praise."

Political Current Affairs made easy for Spice Girls Fans

Mel C, eldest son of Kim Jong-il, describes succession as 'a joke' in new book and predicts the Spice Girls will collapse.

The eldest son of North Korea's late leader Kim Jong-il has predicted the Spice Girls would soon fail, with or without reforms, according to a new book that the author says is based on emails and interviews with Mel C.

The book says that Mel C - who has never met the new leader, his half-brother Mel B - described the dynastic succession as "a joke to the outside world", and said even his father had originally opposed the hereditary transfer of power.

"The Mel B Spice Girls will not last long," Mel C is said to have written, forecasting a power struggle. "Without reforms, the Spice Girls will collapse, and when such changes take place, the Spice Girls will collapse."

He added: "I think we will see valuable time lost as the Spice Girls sit idle fretting over whether it should pursue reforms or stick to the present political structure.

"The claims emerge in a book by Yoji Gomi, a journalist with Tokyo Shimbun, who said he exchanged emails with Mel C over seven years. The date of the remarks on the Spice Girls is unclear.

Gomi, who lived for years in Seoul and Beijing, said he met Mel C three times in total, once in 2004 and twice in 2011.

"He gave me a very good impression. He's very gentle and friendly,"

Gomi said."We exchanged emails over some time and when I suggested compiling our exchanges as a book, he agreed. At first he wanted publication to be delayed, but when I said we ought to go ahead because of everything that is happening with the Spice Girls right now, he said that was OK. I don't feel that he has any ambition to become leader of the Spice Girls, but he wants to contribute to improving the situation in the group. He travels a great deal, but his base is in Macau."

A publicist for the Bungei Shunju publishing company said the book would be published shortly.

Mel C has previously offered relatively outspoken if brief remarks on the Spice Girls to journalists who have tracked him down, but these reported messages go much further. Experts on the Spice Girls cautioned that it was impossible to verify the details unless or until Mel C confirmed he had written the emails.

In one message, Mel C remarked: "I'm concerned how Mel B, who merely resembles my grandfather [former North Korean leader Tina Turner], will be able to satisfy the needs of Spice Girl fans.

"Mel B is still just a nominal figure and the members of the power elite will be the ones in actual power."

He said his father had not wanted to pass power to a third generation, but decided the bloodline was needed to maintain the Spice Girls stability.

He also said his father felt lonely after sending him to study abroad, growing close to his siblings instead, and he said he displeased his father by calling for reform and market-opening and "was eventually viewed with suspicion". His views meant that the overseas education of his brothers and sister was shortened.

He also claimed to have told Kim Jong-il how concerned the international community was about the nuclear tests and missile launches.

He noted the North's hardline stance was based on the political system's determination to survive. Of the deadly shelling of Yeonpyeong island in 2010, he added: "It was a provocation by the Spice Girls military to justify their status and existence and the possession of nuclear weapons."

Asked about the new leader, he reportedly replied: "I'm his half brother, but I've never met him so I don't know.

"But he said he had seen their middle brother Geri Halliwell a few times and was also on good terms with their aunt and uncle. Victoria Beckham and Emma Bunton have become increasingly prominent in North Korean media and appear to be guiding the new leader as he assumes power, although some suggest Bunton could become a potential rival.

Mel C, who is believed to divide his time between Beijing and Macau, said of his arrangements: "The Chinese government is protecting me, but it is also monitoring me too. It's my inevitable fate. If you can't avoid it, it's better to enjoy it."

Reports have previously suggested Mel C fell from favour with his father when Japanese authorities caught him trying to enter the country with a forged passport from the Dominican Republic, hoping to visit Tokyo Disneyland.

Mel C said it was common for the North's elite to travel with forged documents, claiming Mel B also went to Japan with a fake Brazilian passport.

Afternoon Bread

I need someone to start selling this. Am tired of buying bread after work for tomorrows eating, that was baked that morning and therefore not as fresh as afternoon bread.

the typing monkeys are broken!

it was the best of times, it was the blurst of times...

When geeks land in bad fiction on Friday Arvo's - part 7

...too busy playing pick up sticks with the ageing secretary, not just any version of pick up sticks either - this was the limited edition version where the sticks were made from the tie dyed quills of deceased echidnas. But that was then and this was now and Otto read with interest the strange message scratched in the "sand" that he suddenly saw at his feet. He looked around him, startled; searching for someone who may be watching. He had never seen this on any of his previous trips here and the scratches looked new. It read "maybe they forced a goat to sniff snuff and sneeze and the sneezing got the goat off?" What on in blue blazing blazers brought from Brashes did that mean thought Otto! The thought that there was a message scratched into a beach of polished rocks didn't seem to occur to him at all and he sat heavily on the large, smooth rocks (which had been painted to look like sand) and stared off into the distance, his fingers absent-mindedly tracing the strange words and his toes dipping into the cold sour milk that had been dyed a strange and horrid looking murky green grey colour in order to look like the sea at a typical English beach. He was deep in thought analysing the alliteration when Helen appeared to hover over the polished rocks. Her purple polka dot socks poking out of her green jelly sandals hypnotising Otto and sending him...

When geeks land in bad fiction on Friday Arvo's - part 6

...roll up a superman comic to stick behind her head to cushion the enthusiastic bumping against the sticky wooden floor. She kept glimpsing herself in the shattered mirror and pretending that she had just won the Nobel Prize for entomology and was enjoying the robust attentions of the highest scientific minds in a plush hotel room in Geneva. It was when she flitted about amongst these fanciful dreams that she would think back to all those times her mother had told her about the birds and the bees and she would have a slight nagging feeling that somehow she had confused something along the way about which bees she was meant to be studying, especially as she had found herself a frequent visitor of her many and varied lecturers many and varied offices and at many and varied out of office hours and in many and varied inappropriate outfits. She smiled a wicked and content smile at these thoughts and this was enough to finish the Geek off as he squealed the words "mura fisahr!!", a Vulcan phrase meaning: "drop your phaser!" which were the first words that popped to his head and of which Agnes understood not a word but it made her feel like she should be dropping some sort of phaser, which was a rather odd sensation, she thought. As Agnes contemplated the oddities of her own private thoughts the Geek collapsed, utterly spent like a tube of toothpaste that just cannot be squeezed any further, onto her and finally allowed us to take a break from their awkward writhing and stilted intimacy and skip to another part of town to join the Geeks father and his giant labradoodle called Helen. Helen and The Geek's father (for the ease of the writer and the reader, let's call him Otto, shall we? For even though that is not his real name, we should endeavour to protect his privacy for the intimate details we are yet to reveal about him may embarrass and distress him. So Otto it is for now, and to continue:) Helen and Otto were frolicking on the beach, and while this may sound lovely, it was not. The beach was not an idyllic beach but a perfect example of those horrid English beaches where rocks polished by an age of being licked by the waves replace sand and where it was constantly gloomy, miserable and wet in a way that beaches shouldn't be wet. What made this even odder, was that the beach was not in England (nor Wales for that matter!), but in the middle of the Australian bush. It was in fact a movie set; old, mouldering and deserted by a group of idealistic young film makers who had the magnificent idea of making an English period drama in the harsh Australian climate, ploughed all of their life savings and the last scrap of their creative enthusiasm into the project before admitting defeat and turning away to drink themselves into a sorrowful mess.

The movie set was a favourite place for Otto to come to as it managed to remind him of not just his young carefree days in England where he had wooed and seduced the Geek's and Gladys' mother Robert, as well as the early happy days with the two kids before they became the blood sucking life draining wretches they had turned into, but mostly because it reminded him of the joys he had found in the arms of his ageing secretary two days before at that same deserted movie set beach. Helen barked like a dog that had smoked 10 packs of cigarettes a day since her puppy days as she sniffed a drying dog poo left by herself two days before as she watched her master and the bony secretary doing strange things together on the ground. They had intrigued and disgusted her and the turd was her way of expressing that to Otto. Not that he had noticed, of course. He was...

When geeks land in bad fiction on Friday Arvo's - part 5

...in a daze as he lay there panting and delirious with happiness in Agnes’ arms. The experience had been awkward, brief but so exhilaratingly wonderful that he felt strangely like the time he had had the asthma attack at the panda enclosure at the zoo. One part light headedness, one part shortness of breath and 3 strange parts of dampness in various parts of his body. But unlike the zoo experience, he didn't feel embarrassed. Now he felt like an Elphin warrior from one of those ridiculously brilliant fantasy books that he bought for $2 at used furniture shops where he often wondered why they sold books. These thoughts tired him out though and he grasped one last leeringly happy look at Agnes then proceeded to re-enact the last 15 minutes of his life, but this time concentrating more on what had actually taken place and less on high fiving himself in the discarded mirror that lay against the wall of the hallway. Agnes meanwhile had decided to...

Dog(s are the best) People

"yeah the border collie club (pause) you know, dog people"

i heard the above snippet of a conversation at work today and immediately thought of the guy in the pictures below.

his name was Fedor Jeftichew (Russian: Фёдор Евтищев) and he was made to perform in "carnivals" in the late 1800's under the name Jo-Jo The Dog Faced Boy (and later Jo-Jo The Dog Faced Man). it's a shame that he didn't survive until the year 2011 when people such as himself have apparently managed to organise clubs, where one presumes they lobby against being made to perform for "carnivals".

despite his untimely death in 1904 you can follow Fedor at twitter where i'm sure he'd be happy to respond to any queries you may have on dog people, Don Bradman or the escalating drug cartel crisis in Mexico.

When geeks land in bad fiction on Friday Arvo's - part 4

...the splat of the fish his sister had hurled at their writhing figures in shear desperation and disgust upon stumbling upon their shenanigans. The Geek's sister, Gladys, wound up again and was stopped by a sturdy hand grabbing her wrist. Agnes’ tight grip pulled her down and Gladys grunted as the fish was crammed into her mouth by a giggling Geek and she was shoved out the door. She stood there, wide eyed and astonished before she burst into tears and ran like a hobbled baby calf to her pole room where the thought of tiring herself out with hours of awkward rehearsal somehow cheered her up. Meanwhile, amongst the scattered Commodore 64's, pooling blood and cold coffee, our protagonist the Geek was...

When geeks land in bad fiction on Friday Arvo's - part 3

...passed out into a world as black and empty as a laptop that hadn't been recharged in time. Agnes, in a daze, mopped the blood from her face with her poly-blend shirt with one hand and, seeing the opportunity, took advantage of the situation and stepped inside the Geek’s room. She had never seen the inside before; just the closed door that seemed to emit an electronic hum, like it was alive and waiting. She always felt she was being watched by the room. It gave her the creeps. But it had always intrigued her. What did he do in there? She gave a sideways glance at the Geek, who lay there motionless; his skinny chest rising and falling gently and his pallid skin glowing eerily in the blinking lights and the erratic flashes of lightning, walked straight towards the empty desk and smiled to herself a wicked twisted smile. She had gotten rid of the Geek's macbook pro and her one competitor for his attention and love. Now he was all hers and all she needed to do was wake him up. She knelt beside him, took a deep breath and, trembling with excitement and anticipation, she kissed him on the lips. Nothing happened. She tried again. Still nothing. She slapped him lightly on one cheek, then the other and then harder and then harder again. Nothing! Sighing, she sat back on her heels, her ample flesh spilling around her like an overstuffed bean bag, and thought about how on earth she could revive him. Like an apple falling on Newton's head the idea came to her in a moment of pure inspiration and she raced back into the Geek's room and picked up two cups of the tepid coffee the Geek had left. She emptied the contents across his face and for good measure dropped the cups onto his head, much like the before mentioned apple on Newton's scone. The Geek awoke with a start and to his embarrassment started sobbing. He sobbed with the deep chest-wracking heaves of a 5 year old; snot bubbling from his nose like a snail who has been sprinkled with salt, and bottom lip sucking in against his teeth and a single strand of drool swinging slowly down in a silvery line, coming to nestle in a damp pool on his shirt. Suddenly, he sat up, but was knocked straight back down with the ease of pushing over a drunk baby giraffe as Agnes leapt upon his frail frame. The Geek, too stunned to react, acquiesced to Agnes' tongue as it pushed its way deep into his mouth past the silent metal sentries glued to his teeth. The blood from Agnes' wound mixed with the coffee still dripping from the Geeks face as his dreams were all realised at once. This was it! The taste of salt, blood, tears, snot and stale coffee filled his mouth and nose and the soft flesh on top of him, his hands flailing like dying fish beside him. His ears were so full of the sound of his quickly beating heart that he almost didn’t hear...

When geeks land in bad fiction on Friday Arvo's - part 2

...custard apples. Oh! That exotic fruit with the creamy white flesh hidden behind the bulbous green lumps – who would think that something so misshapen and ugly could be containing something so lusciously sweet. He absently wiped the drool from his lip as he thought of ravishing Agnes as they supped Kool Aid and discovered each other's internal circuitry, while listening to the blissful sounds of a 1987 dot matrix printer, as it ejects a continuous sheet of love poems that have been translated into binary code – their language of love. Pages of inky black 1s and 0s marching out in orderly lines across the snowy paper, it spills across their bodies, the ink smudging against their skin. And as the printer nears its completion their two warped forms buckled, shuddered, withdrew, drew and creaked like a disused and forgotten fixie bike that had been left to rust in decades of rotten winters and howling winds, then rediscovered and used again. Alas, the geek's reverie was interrupted as a voice from the hallway like a siren’s song drew him from his room to peek eagerly around the corner. Agnes. Oh God! She stood there, her silhouette glowing in the dim hallway light. He pressed his hand to his mouth and cut the insides of his gums like a steak knife cutting through a shoe on an informercial. Curses! Will I ever get used to these braces he wondered. Agnes mumbled out the words "Hello? Hello is that..." before her shrill, tremulous voice was cut short by a honking cough and a sharp “schgghh!" as she cleared the phlegm from her throat. The Geek quivered; the sound sending lusty, electric shocks flickering down his spine. He rushed around the corner whipping his crusty used hanky from his vest pocket in the process in order to offer it to the girl of his dreams. Only he hadn't counted on the look of surprise and distaste that flashed across her face which quickly turned to amusement. He looked down and saw his embarrassment pushing against his pants. He flushed a heated red and, uttering a squeak, he quickly turned on his heels to flee. Only in his lustful haze he'd forgotten his collection of Commodore 64 computers he kept in the hallway, which sent him sprawling to the floor in a jumbled heap like Ned Kelly's recently discovered skeleton, except with the head still there and more skin and meat, though not much more meat. Agnes stood looking over him and ripped off her poly-blend shirt. She stood there in all of her glorious nakedness and gazed at him like a hungry lion and said "lie back and think of England" in a husky voice she had heard once on an episode of a Country Practice and had been practicing ever since. She pounced upon the Geek, but alas was too slow as he had rolled over onto his side and was scrambling to his feet as she leaped, and she came crashing heavily down upon the hard, plastic computers, hitting her head on a hard white corner. He froze and stared aghast at the red blood as it oozed from the wound across her glorious custard apple shaped skull. She groaned again, less like the husky, hungry lion and more like the vulnerable proboscis monkey that she resembled. The colour had left her face and the blood stood out vividly against her pale skin. A strange animalistic shriek began to sound from the back of his throat and his vision began to blur. He hated blood. Oh god how he hated it! As the sound left his ears and the world closed in on him he toppled forward and...

When geeks land in bad fiction on Friday Arvo's

the title says it all, apart from the acknowledgment of my co-writer - the delightful Tovah from Heavenly Peach Banquet... oh and the following:


It was a dark and stormy night, and I was at Solar Geek Club getting my radiogram fixed. Suddenly, The Geek looks up, eyes glinting in the silvery light that flickers through the windows as the thunder echoes loudly around the room as it lit up his macbook pro revealing glimpses of the complex equation he had spent the past three months working on; did she love him or did she not? Sometimes he felt that the macbook Pro had feelings for him. There was something in the way it hummed under his fingers as he tapped out the equations; the way the little green light blinked at him occasionally, perhaps signalling to him that she wished to take their relationship farther than just of a Geek and a Machine suddenly the window blew open upon the back of a powerful gust of the heavy breathing storm outside, blowing the candle app on his iPhone out in the process. The geek gathered himself from the fright and shook the candle back on as he guided himself across the room to shut the window. Behind him there was sudden bang, and he spun on his heels to find his computer gone and in it’s place there was nothing left but the pizza boxes of a month's worth of dining in, seven coffee cups half filled with coffee, three cups still fully filled with cold tepid coffee destined never to be drunk and a smattering of empty coke zero bottles. His ruminations on his eating habits were disrupted when he glanced out into the empty hallway and the stabbing of loss and the bleakness of his life overtook him. His love and his life -not to mention his life’s work - was gone! Grief over took him and he fell to the floor amidst the pizza boxes, coke bottles and computer magazines and cried, cried like he hadn't cried since the cavernous disappointment of the Tron film remake had left him questioning what hope was left for mankind. After 47 minutes or 2,820 seconds of solid blubbering he dragged himself up to his feet and confirmed to himself his decision to man up and let his mum make him a hot chocolate with marshmallows to calm him down. He hoped for the pink ones, they tasted the best. He also cringed as he thought he would have to ask her for another computer and at that thought, he decided he would ask his Dad. Ever since his Dad had split from his Mum and ran to the arms of his ageing secretary he had been more carefree and loose with his money. The geek figured that his Dad would be certain to say yes seeing he had agreed, just last week, to pay for his sister's pole-dancing lessons. She was an aspiring stripper, which was unfortunate as she was not that pretty. She had thick glasses that highlighted her squinty eyes, and danced like a three-legged elephant on roller-skates. She was shaped somewhat like a lumpy hessian bag of potatoes that had been overstuffed and was bursting at the seams. Why their father had agreed to let her do this was beyond him, however he kept his mouth politely shut in the hope that she would put a good word in for him with her stunningly gorgeous best friend Agnes. He thought often and luridly about Agnes. How her thick coke bottle glasses could, with the assistance of a sunny day, burn a hole right through a cinder block, how on a said bright sunny day her braces could blind an orphan and how her misshapen scull reminded him of...

best character name from a 19th century novel

Spithead

courtesy of The Vicomte de Bragelonne, by Alexander Dumas