I am a big fan of hairy things. Hairy people, my legs, hairy tumors, your mom, et cetera. Check it:

These guys are part of a beard and moustache club in Germany. Kickass. I believe these guys present the coolest facial hair I have ever seen.

Highland Tasgall Ale

Another beer review from weathered...

It is one of those chocolatey rich ales. Flavors you would expect from a porter, but that nice light-hearted nature. The kind of dark ale Chiggers approves of. Now, technically it is a Scottish Ale, and the Tasgall truly lives up to the full nature of such. It doesn’t have the heavy, robust quality of an Oskar Blue’s Old Chubb, but this is okay. I decided to look up the top ten Scottish Ale’s according to the Beer Advocate, and I was highly disappointed to see Highland not make the cut. But I promise you, it is a hell of a beer.

The dark chocolate coloring with cherry red hues exude from the bottom of the glass. The red manages to reflect in the foam, which, by the way I consistently attempt to not refer to as “head” in beer reviews. Each attempt tests the large immature portion of my brain. Naturally a reference to “head” doesn’t go over so well...Dang.

2 minutes later....

So, the smooth, yet rich, mildly chocolate, barely hoppy flavor, along with a little something something extra presents the Tasgall to the best of my now inebriated ability. But you know while I’m on the subject of taste, the flavors that you can identify with are only the flavors you have tasted before, therefore the flavors in which you have been taught to identify with so really the ones you’ve had before... so... yea. Yea. In fact, when I refer to the actual flavor in must be subject to interpretation by your very own taste buds or I might get myself kicked in the butthole. Any philosophy majors out there? Was that a sound argument?

4.33 out of 5 !@#$%&.’s.

it's that time again...

Once again I bring you cuteness overload. Just for the guys, cause you know you love it. Especially this guy named Bones.

Disclaimer: Chiggers Inc. is not responsible for any dead or beaten bunnies.


Seeeeee... baby bunnies do like carrots! Baby carrots!

Loooook at da face!

What are you looking at Mr. Camera-man?

Awww... look at the bunny tugging at the blanket!!!!

Now, don't you just have the biggest smile on your face!?

missiles. boom boom boom.

I have spent way too much time today reading about the situation with Iran and their long range missiles. I don't feel at liberty to make an outrageous comment on the occurence of missile tests. But, it is very obvious to see what the agneda is here, and it smells like Israel. However, as I was reading some posts, a fellow who referred to himself as "Ross Perot" made a very humorous statement in his post:

"To Iran I say only this, 'Walk towards the mushrrom cloud, Allah is waiting.'"

chiggas wanna know

Here we have Neko Case.
Here stands Jenny Lewis.

It has plagued me for a few weeks now, so I wanna know, Jenny Lewis or Neko Case?

Clearly this is a serious matter.

So, which one? Keep in mind this could involve aspects such a musicality, ass kicking (literal ass kicking, as in who would win the fight?), a walk off, nails and hair, poop, water chugging skill, et cetera, et cetera.

Please do share your thoughts. And, please let us not let the photos dictate the opinion. I reapeat, this is a serious matter.

the ocean is a toilet.

I went to the dermatologist on Friday with concern for the carbuncles on my face. Okay, okay, they aren't that bad. Just some patches of zits. Now I am not one to be concerned with looks too much. I don't even bother putting on makeup to cover the pimples up. Besides, everyone looks rather nice under the dim bar lights. But, I don't want scars on my face later in life. I had him pump me up with as many drugs as possible to rid them as quickly as possible. Then the downside came. I cannot go out in the sun or I will, I quote, "have a sunburn you will never forget." Now, I get this two-fold from the topical cream and the antibiotics. Dammit. I like the beach, I like to sit out by the pool with a good book. Dammit.
I have been insipred to reminisce the joys of the beach... In particular, the beautiful beach of Roatan. And the best part is, the sand there is all poop. Yep, that's right. It just so happens that parrot fish munch on coral and poop out approximately one ton of sand each year. These reefs contain abundant populations of these fishes, and I was one of the many priveledged souls who frolicked in masses of poo.
Observe the vast poop displayed below. It extends for coutless kilometers...

Here are some mangrove prop roots interacting with the future fecal matter.

Here is chiggers on the far left emerging out of the toilet after taking some serious data. The dive spot was Pillar Coral. Lot's of parrot fish. Lot's of poop.

And finally, because the ocean really is a toilet, I did what any rational human being would do. Look at chiggers there on the left, peeing into the water with a big smile on her face.

I guess even though I can't enjoy beautiful beaches to their fullest, I can always think about poop.

beer of the week: brooklyn east india pale ale

Here's my Beer Review currently on Weathered Living for you non-weathered readers...

My immediate impression... Hop! Hop! Yea! This IPA glows amber, yes, yes, it gleams under the bar lights. And when you peer in it even looks orange, intriguing.... A sharp, bitter hoppiness, with citrus undertones, leaving remnants of grapefruit and orange.

For the lover of hops, this beer has a rather neat way of leaving a hoppy aftertaste. As my blonde, Barbie-esque friend would say, “Loves it!” You have to give it to those Barbie-like friends, they know more than shopping and makeup. Brilliance in disguise.

Anyhoo, the aftertaste slowly dissipates in strength and you can actually acknowledge it happening. Of course it doesn’t fade completely because you have already taken another sip because you love hops and this IPA is so damn delicious.

For whatever reason the bottle isn’t so aesthetically pleasing, and I am not certain as to why I even care since I like the beer. I just really hate the color “red-orange.” Dammit, just pick one please. Red. “Loves it!” Orange. “Loves it!” Red-orange. “You buttplug.” Can’t pick on side or the other can you!? You have to rest in between!

Right....

Well, the horrid shade sits next to a nice green color, but they just don’t gel, so I don’t approve.

So now that I haven’t really told you very much about this beer at all, I hope you drink it.

4 out of 5 !@#$%&’s. (My lazy approach to a rating system.)

And just for record, Brooklyn beers stand on their own. Cheers to donating unique taste to brews. Be sure to keep an eye out for their Monster Ale, Winter Ale, Brown Ale, and my much loved Black Chocolate Stout. They all have received the chiggers’ seal of approval.

dirty water

Location: West Bank Park, Lake Lanier
Bottom Temperature: 72 degrees (= too cold)
Visibility: maybe 2 or 3 feet
Findings: random trash, RayBan sunglasses, beer can, fishing line, rocks, and 1 fish (species unknown)

This was chiggers' bad idea to dive in Lake Lanier. If you are familiar with Georgia, you know that this lake is overpopulated and overused. What does this mean? It's probably filled with intestinal bacteria which are thriving in the waste.

Let's just say that I am happy I never wound up with a atrange infection folled by smegma.

my one and only

My love for beer is nothing short of intense. On weathered living today Bones presented his love of beer.

Exhibit A:
"Oh man, do I love beer! I love it with an unbridled passion like you wouldn't believe. Sometimes I'll even talk to it. Nothing weird of course. Normal stuff like, "My heart yearns for you, beer! I love you! Make love to my brain, beer! Make love to my brain! Just one more time! Once more before the enemy arrives and tortures me for data!" It's a guy thing. We all say stuff like that. Right, dudes?"
-Bones

Now I must say that I feel my love for beer goes beyond this. And it is not a guy thing. Taking beer away from me would be like taking a chunk right out of my soul, throwing it upon the ground, plowing over it with a lawnmover, and then preceding to scoop up the pieces and throwing them into an incinerator. I love beer as much as poop, and we all know how intense that is.

Exhibit B:


Please note the look upon my face as I long to take a nice big gulp of that brew I am holding. My friends, this is what they call love. True love.

picture tuesday is it.

Look how far I have come in four years...

2002: I was known as the Easter Bunny.




2006: Chiggers.



The keen eye can see the rise in maturity.

yuppie puppies

I absolutely love my new apartment, but dammit, everyone has a dog, or two or three. Big dogs, little dogs, medium sized ones... Imagine if all the stray dogs in Georgia wound up in one place. Yes, that is how it is. I think I missed the memo about how having a dog makes you "cool." There is even a "Yuppie Puppy Bark Park" here. Dead serious. The other morning a little pup managed to wrap the leash it was dragging around my legs as I waited for elevator. Then yesterday there was an Atlanta cop here for a "dog situation." What the hell did they need a cop for? Are they killing humans now? The world has officially gone nuts.

just a little something something

As I sit here on this lovely Friday evening studying inefficiently, sipping wine, and pondering the more useful aspects of life (particularly mine) I bring to you one of those "no shit!" things.
This is a concept I must be familiar with in morning, keep this in mind.

*cough cough

"The aniexty theory of magic: people will use their scientific technology as far as it will extend and then will resort to magic or religion to reduce anxiety."

Holy crap! What a fucking original theory there! Could I not have inferred this on my own? Have I not before?

Alrighty, back to the drinking.

picture tuesday!

anyone for strip twister?

: o

Blasted blogger! I have been trying to put up a picture forever. Arrrrrgh. Picture Monday has now died and gone to the firey pits of hell.