My favourite beer is now available as an ice cream!

Although the ice cream is made using the ale, under licence from brewers Scottish and Newcastle, the cooking process means it contains less than 1% alcohol. Jackie Maxwell, director of Doddington Dairy said: "We were looking for an ice cream flavour that was distinctive, and had a strong identity with the region.

"Newcastle Brown Ale has all of that. It has been a fantastic challenge working on a product like this, with one of the world's most famous brands. Every part of the process has been great for us – from the design of the cartons, through to testing the ale syrup for just the right flavour. The ice cream highlights Newcastle Brown's unique flavour characteristics."

It does appear that it will not be exported from the UK, so I doubt I will have the chance to try it. Anyone over that way want to ship me a carton?

First, I will start with the entries I alluded to yesterday. Have you seen the new Oreo® Cookies that boast dual-flavour cream centres? There is an advert on television featuring blue-collar workers during their lunch break. An African-American man has the "Mint 'n Cream" Double Delight much to the amazement and jealously of his co-workers, who then try to offer their desserts in exchange for one of these new cookies. The bald man with the beard, moustache and cupcakes makes me laugh so hard. Reminding me physically of Clint Howard, this guy's final line of "Eight cupcakes!" is stupidly amusing.

Next, we have some bitching about the waste of money organisation, the United States Department of Homeland Security's preparedness website designed for citizens, ready.gov. I have made some comments here and there about it, but have you really ever gone to this site and read the material presented. I feel like we are back in the 60's again with the scare-tactic propaganda. Even if terrorism is a threat, I have to wonder if the employments of these tactics are being used to help gain popular support for the controversial, to mention nothing of expensive, security initiatives going through Congress. That was rhetorical, by the way. You should go and print out the instructions and information presented on their site, pinning them up on your wall in the event of a cataclysmic terrorist attack. God knows ducking under a table with your hands over your head is going to provide live-saving protection in the event of a biological or nuclear attack.

I was recently laughed at for my irrational fear of spiders. I feel the fear is irrational simply because I think people should not be scared of most of the things we fear. They are generally harmless, smaller and less intelligent then us. None the less, the fear exists and so I thought I would share now the story behind my arachnophobia. I believe I was twelve or so and was participating in an emergency communications exercise though an amateur radio organization I was a part of at the time. This twenty-four hour event took place at a church or scout camp situated in the woods not too far to the present location of the West Oaks Mall in west Orlando. I was in charge of desktop workstations that were used to log all communications during this exercise. At some point during the overnight, someone wanted to use the radio located in the most remote building of the complex, which had been shutdown due to inactivity. I was asked by this individual to accompany them, get the workstation online and make sure everything was ready for his use. As I entered the rooms walking toward the back where we had the station set-up, I rubbed the walls looking for the light switches. Finally, we arrived at the proper room where I began getting the computer ready for use. Something caught my attention to the right peripherally so I looked. Covering the far walls, floor and ceiling were fully-grown, large adult wolf spiders. I turned and looked back at the way I came in and saw they were there as well, hideously close to those light switches I had just before flipped without looking first. I worked with a swiftness getting that workstation ready for use and then hauled ass running out of that building and all the way back to the other, less secluded buildings. Since then I have been pretty intimidated by any spiders the size of a half-dollar coin (including leg span) or larger.

You Mac-lovers out there can laugh at this. I tried today to eject the CD in my drive by dragging it's icon to the trash. Um, yeah, you cannot do that in Windows XP Professional even though my "recycle bin" icon is labelled "Trash" and looks like the OS X icon.

Finally, some select search terms people used at Google or other engines and came to Mount Sutro.

playboy lingerie calendar
photographs of tallahassee
mount sutro tower
erik patten
bomb gallery
drunken party home photo
peacock room orlando gallery
pierced gallery
pierced orlando
playboy lingerie party
iv party
paypal granny sex

There are many others, but most of them revolved around lingerie, Playboy®, Mount Sutro and pictures of Tallahassee.

I took The Boy to Bodhisattva Social Club on Saturday night and then to The Peacock Room last night. He had never been to either, so it was a new experience for him. Not a fan of beer, he did not have anything to drink at Bodhisattva, a beer bar, but was amused by my selection of L'Alsacienne sans Culotte. If you go to their website, you can read all about this Belgium pilsner and it's interesting label. Fannie, the woman depicted on the front and who says "bottom's up" whilst showing her backside to you is wearing scratch-off panties. Go buy a bottle, scratch and see for yourself!

The Peacock Room was as nice as usual. I had my standard Stolichnaya Raspberry Cosmopolitan while The Boy enjoyed something with chocolate liqueurs (these, I believe) and vodka that was very tasty, and I am not a big fan of chocolate. Like he said, it was like a milkshake with vodka. A divine combination, indeed.

After running into an old friend last night that has since moved to North Carolina, I have been feeling a bit nostalgic about the three-bar establishment that I practically lived at for fun and eventually worked for as well. For those who know me, you know that I am of course talking about Yab Yum, Inc., which consisted of the Kit Kat Club, Harold and Maude's and the Globe (after Go Lounge closed on 23 August 1999) on Wall Street Plaza in downtown Orlando.

It all started in the middle of June 1999 when my best friend Erik "Chris" Patten and I were attending various films and seminars during the Florida Film Festival. One evening while driving around town looking for trouble to get into, Chris remembered hearing that one of the parties for the festival was to be held at a downtown espresso bar called Harold and Maude's. We stopped at the University of Central Florida student union to look up this place in the telephone book and give them a ring for directions. I can still distinctly remember being there for no more than thirty minutes, turning to Chris and stating how I could see Harold and Maude's becoming my new evening hangout. The irony of that statement is only appreciable now.

As time progressed, that is exactly what happened. My friends and I made Harold and Maude's a regular evening stop to enjoy conversation, various coffees and as I became friends with some of the staff, alcoholic beverages. From that point forward, my attraction to the place only grew and the time spent there greater. There came a point where I really started to feel like I was part of a family, almost like in Cheers. Hell, I had my own spot at the bar I almost always sat at, was served my raspberry cosmopolitans in special, larger cocktail glasses reserved by most of the bartenders for me and was greeted by name by the staff and some regulars when I walked in the door. So it is no wonder that I eventually began working at this place I enjoyed so much. As one of the managers once said, "You are here already, so why not make some money, too?"

In September 2000, I began working fill-in shifts at the Kit Kat Club door, checking identification and taking cover charge money. That temporary position later turned into regular work every Monday and Wednesday evening, picking up additional shifts as needed. Finally, I was made the "door manager" and was in charge of scheduling shifts and making sure things were running smoothly. One of my favourite, yet unfortunate things, was kicking people out and having them trespassed by the police. It was a known in-joke that I was the king of the trespass, which either meant I got a lot more troublemakers when I was on shift, or just put up with less shit than others. I knew the night-shift downtown bicycle OPD cops by name.

I have never again been fortunate enough to work with such a wonderful group of people. Our establishments were frequented by people from all walks of life and our diverse staff represented that as well. It was a great way to meet a lot of interesting people, sample the best and the worst of the local music scene and just get away from it all whilst making money and having fun.

Now, that they have been gone for over a year, I still find myself wanting nothing more than to go there and just sit and hang out. No substitute by any means, but Southern Nights and the Bodhisattva Social Club downtown have taken the place of the Yab Yum threesome for me. I still run into many old regulars and co-workers, which is nice. And as silly as this may seem, I do have a little tribute to Yab Yum on a bookshelf, containing my personal cocktail glasses, a Harold and Maude's menu, ashtray, matches, roll of logo stickers and the stamps I used whilst working. Now if only I would have been able to take the whole place home with me.

People that cannot fully plan ahead for multiple contingencies should probably steer away from a life of crime. If there were a children's version of Cops, the following story would probably had been a good candidate.

While leaving the local Denny's, a teenage boy pushed his way past my party through the double-doors of the vestibule. After exiting fully, he took off in a run. Not too far behind him was the waitress. We were not paying that close attention prior to the waitress coming outside, so we did not see where he went.

She did. A minute later she came walking back to the entrance with the guy closely behind, speaking, but it was incoherent at our distance. After being inside for several more minutes, he emerged and left, presumably in his vehicle which was parked behind the restaurant where he had run.

I had to learn more, so I went back and asked the waitress some questions to wrap-up the story a little more and confirm our suspicions of what had just gone down. The waitress said that when she approached the vehicle, the guy was inside it obviously readying to go. She pointed out to him that she had his car's colour, make and tag number so it would be a good idea to follow her back inside to pay his bill and avoid the involvement of the police. His grand defense was that he had dashed outside to check on his friend. After paying, he left and drove off.

A lame crime being pulled off (or not) in a terrible, non-planned manner by a teenage boy who was not even cute. That is practically a crime itself.

I had the opportunity to visit the year-old Hue restaurant located downtown at the corner of Central Boulevard and Summerlin Avenue. The facility is snugly featured inside the monolithic Thornton Park Central that I find represents the new trend toward making downtown Orlando more like a "real" city, like New York, Los Angeles or San Francisco. I am not a fan of this trendy, urban and hip persona because I mostly find it to be pretentious and unlike the actually trendy, urban and hip city centres around the world. Yeah, sue me.

That said, I approached Hue with cautiousness, a friend and a twenty-five dollar gift certificate to get us started. It was around 2030 last Saturday night when we arrived after having entered a pay-parking garage to spare us more walking than necessary in arguably one of the coldest Florida evenings this season. This was another immediate concern upon entering the restaurant.

Normally, there is a full compliment of customers enjoying the spacious outdoor patio seating area. With temperatures slated to fall to the low to mid thirties, the largely middle-aged crowd was jam packed into the rather small bar/lounge area. As the wait for a table would be 45 to 60 minutes, we trekked to the bar (it was quite a feat to approach) and ordered the House Cabernet Sauvignon, which we both surprisingly enjoyed. Our wait brought another element that was not perfect. Since the outdoor patio was unused and all those people, plus the bar/lounge's normal compliment was occupying that small space, my dinner partner and I had to stand practically at the hostess' podium to avoid being incessantly knocked into.

A few more rounds of wine later, we were seated in a very artistically lit room that contained very little actual decoration or artwork, but more in design, lighting, colour and some accessories accomplished the decorative element.

The server was prompt, friendly and informative. The arrival of the menus ushered in a new aura of the fancy restaurant stench I was hoping to avoid: they print new menus every day, sometimes more often depending on availability and the whim of the master chef. A novel idea perhaps, but I would rather see the trees and ink spared in exchange for the server simply telling me what they had run out of that evening (that night it was one of their many fish dishes, a prominent staple on the Hue menu).

I ordered the mid-range priced Wood Grilled Filet Mignon with Steak Sauce with Mashed Sweet Potatoes and Sauté of Vegetables ($27.00) and my dining partner purchased the lower-range priced Oven Roasted Chicken Breast with Tomato Basil Glace, Garlic Mashed Potatoes and Pesto Vegetable Gratin ($17.00). Our entrées were preceded with a fresh loaf of bread served with a unique, but excellent garlic butter.

Contrary to our expectations, our food was wonderful. The meat of the dishes was prepared exactly as ordered (medium-rare for my steak) and seasoned excellently. The chicken was moist, flavourful and tender. I am not a fan of sweet potatoes as a rule, but my mashed sweet potatoes were phenomenal (the first time I have had them mashed, actually). Both dishes came with a small compliment of vegetables that could only have been better had more been included. An original au jus-esqe sauce came with my steak and was an excellent addition to an already perfectly prepared slice of nearly fat-free meat.

When all was said and done, my dinner partner and I enjoyed ourselves, had a wonderfully filling, but not over-portioned meal and adjusted our previous judgements. Sure, the miasma of pretentiousness still fills the air and the tab ended up being around $80.00 (before the gift certificate was taken into account and including our pre-table bar tab), but I would certainly never discount an opportunity to visit again.

Scott Joseph's Orlando Sentinel Review [ review ]
Hue – A Restaurant [ official site ]