James Hartman
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jauntyjames.xyz
James Hartman
@jauntyjames.xyz
68 followers 63 following 81 posts
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Happy @clementeworks.com's birthday!
A mile-high lemon meringue pie in a basket
March 14, 2025 at 11:40 AM
jauntyjames.xyz
They call me Egg Money
Man posing with a quiche, a carton of eggs, and cash
February 27, 2025 at 9:20 PM
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I'm a very active boy
Strava year in sports showing my profile pic with my sleeve being munched on by a goat and statistics: Total days active 250 Total distance 1908 miles Total elevation 56480 ft Total time 254 hrs
December 12, 2024 at 5:00 PM
jauntyjames.xyz
When I worked at the beer shop downtown I had a fantastic time writing a review of a Lovecraft themed beer. It's one of my favorite pieces of creative writing I've ever done and it deserves better than to be buried in an obscure Beer Advocate post, so I went and found it for you.
I swore I would never tell a soul about the horror dealt to me by Narragansett Innsmouth Olde Ale, in hopes that it would decay into anonymity, but its sudden, grotesque appearance in package stores throughout the Greater Boston Area has forced me to speak out. I first came upon the odious 16oz can at Mad Abdul Alhazred's Discount Liquors in Arkham, MA. It was a wretched establishment, filled with degenerates and decadent neck-beards, but so desperate was I to find a cask of Amontillado to appease my step-nephew that I rushed in. Their sherry selection was appalling, but the proprietor insisted that he had an ale that would fill the void nicely. In such a rush was I that I scarcely gave it a second thought, and departed with that dreadful sixer of tallboys in tow. It was not until I had returned to my rooms at the Lord Whately Inn that the breadth of my blunder was made clear to me. Appearance: The geometries of Innsmouth Olde Ale were such that would defy the descriptions of an... ... an Euclid, and as such I was obliged to decant it into my Klein bottle. A squamous ichor oozed forth, dark amber in colour. It yielded forth a head of terrible density and with a colour I have only seen in the bones of ancient skeletons unearthed in Kathmandu. Scent: The foetor that assailed my senses was one of the dried fruit of unknown dimensions, as well as a scent I know only from the musty leather which binds that fateful tome, the Necronomicon. The mere scent of the hops was maddening, and to this day I know not if I truly smelt them, or if it were simply the result of some fever-dream. Taste: One sip, one sip! Oh why did I take that demoniac sip? The cyclopean malts that confronted me will forever haunt my dreams. As with the scent, the flavor dredged up visions of the withered fruit trees that do grow upon the fabled Plateau of Leng, and I sometimes wonder if I went mad then and there. Mouthfeel: The Stygian viscosity of the ale was an assault upon the psyche, poised in
October 11, 2024 at 1:30 AM
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Hmmmmm.
September 17, 2024 at 9:47 AM
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I did a triathlon! The photographer didn't get any pictures of the sprint swim )-:
Me on a stage with two other men, accepting the 2nd place trophy for the men's sprint 35-39 Me onna bike Me running. it's raining.
August 20, 2024 at 5:40 PM
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It's been so rough finding good saisons these last few years. Here's a good one!
July 1, 2024 at 4:15 PM
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Here we go!
Shirt and bib for the baystate marathon
October 14, 2023 at 12:55 AM
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I was bullied into opening my birthday presents early. Two very cool shirts, a camping mug, and a thermapen!
August 31, 2023 at 9:53 PM
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I made some grilled shrimp and sourdough sandwiches.
August 2, 2023 at 9:06 PM