All hail Dogecoin!!
Dogecoin is a “joke cryptocurrency” that some guys started eight years ago, just to be funny. Its algorithm doesn’t even limit production, so it doesn’t have that “golden seal of authenticity” that comes with Bitcoin (to wit, it’s not like the dollar, which can be created to infinity and back).
But it has always been a darling of the Reddit community.
And, with a little coaxing from Elon Musk, it became the darling of all those millennial day traders with their stimulus checks.
I bought a very small amount of Dogecoin on December 15th for the heck of it.
As of this typing, it’s up 1,700% (that’s not a typo). I cashed out 350% of my original investment, and now I’m just going to watch and see what happens.
If it goes to $10 a share (I bought at .0038 per share . . . that’s not a typo . . . 3/8ths of one penny), I’ll be giving up my day job and turning TDE into a full-time gig.
If I don’t turn chicken and cash out at 20 cents a share.
But regardless, it’s great fun, so the corks will pop tonight.
Or the tops will come off somehow.
Maybe I’ll open a Sam Adams.
Or maybe I’ll have a vodka and tonic with a splash of my favorite bitters: Fee Brothers Old Fashioned. I was re-organizing my bar after the holidays and I came across two bottles of this forgotten gem. I previously used it all the time, but then kind of forgot about it when I got on my gin kick (gin and its different subtle tastes is, in my opinion, ruined by bitters).
I wish I liked tequila, but due to a youthful indiscretion in Guadalajara when I was 17, I’m afraid tequila is forever banned from my system.
It’s enjoying a great run these days, especially Don Julio, which is skyrocketing in popularity.
Although I don’t hold out much hope that I can ever re-introduce tequila into my body, I am making progress in my attempt to love three great things I hate: tomatoes, coffee, and whiskey.
I’m making progress with coffee. I developed a strong like for Soul of the South Coffee from the Kalamazoo Coffee Company, then I started drinking Meijer’s Toffee Butterscotch at the office, much to the delight of the young attorneys in the office who have started referring to me in metrosexual or homosexual terms.
But I’m undeterred. I’m going to start mixing the Toffee Butterscotch with regular coffee, slowly building my tolerance.
And then I’m turning my attention to whiskey.
Oldest son Alex is in charge of this one, but I think we’re starting with Maker’s Mark (even I’m too sophisticated to start with the disgustingly sweet Southern Comfort).
I might have to try Maker’s Mark with those Fee Brothers Old Fashioned Bitters. “Old Fashioned” implies a whiskey drink.
I’ll suggest it to Alex.
I expect metrosexual and homosexual commentary . . . from my teenaged daughter.
I thought I was going to need Sam Adams, vodka, gin, bourbon, and tequila today after I read this headline: Pub frequented by Tolkien and C.S. Lewis closing after 450 years.
I screamed, “Nooooooooo,” gushed tears, then clicked on the link.
Whew. It is not the Eagle and Child.
It’s the Lamb and Flag.
The Inklings liked to drink. It’s no surprise they had more than one venue, though I’m pretty sure the Eagle and Child was their favorite.
I made my pilgrimage there in 2017. Pics and video here.
Why do English pubs have those odd names? “Eagle and Child.” “Lamb and Flag.”
Here’s Wikipedia’s explanation:
Unlike Ireland, where the names of pubs tend to be based on the name of the owner, or a former owner, in mainland Britain this has been unusual, probably because pubs wanted names that could be related to an image on their pub sign, a key means of identifying them in an age of restricted literacy.
It’s kind of charming.
I can’t imagine what would happen if our semi-pornographic society adopted that practice. The odd names and pairings would start to resemble the world of Idiocracy (PG-13 link).
I’ve come up with a few potential names:
The *(*@ and $%(@
The !*## and @%$^
The (@*# and !)($