Horrorcow Blue Moon Nursery by Smurf in Hand - Baby Smurf Gore/Snuff/Torture Pornography

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Wife's youtube account 1 (David is found painting some boardgame pieces)

Wife's youtube account 2

David's Channel

His cocktail blog

The Cocktail & The Noob

One man's journey into the exciting world of spirits, mixology, and the occasional brew.
cocktailnoob.blogspot.com cocktailnoob.blogspot.com

His cocktail related instagram

DavidT boardgamegeek account
boardgamegeek.com

Games | Profile | DavidT | BoardGameGeek

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This may be the origin of the Blue Moon name for the Blue Moon Nursery

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I always figured that he disappeared because he got busted for some unrelated crime. I guess he just got busy with law school and his career. I wouldn't be shocked to find out that he's abusing his family behind closed doors, but maybe his unspeakable urges lessened or disappeared. That happens to a not-insignificant number of people with disordered sexual urges.
 
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@S.C.U.D. Smurf In Hand started posting his story around late 2008: David changed his avatar to the same profile picture by 2009 at the latest. This story was not picked up by outsiders until long after that point, so I find that doubtful. It’s hypothetically possible that it’s another person from the bluebuddies forum, but the fact that he used the icon for more than a decade across multiple accounts speaks to the behavior of it being him.

Another detail that convinces me is that David has the exact same weirdly detailed writing style as Smurf In Hand, especially on his Cocktail blog. There aren’t the creepy turns of phrase and more childish writing, but he’s talking about alcohol and the way he writes is very similar to me.

The good news is, as usual, my lack of posting does not correlate to a lack of drinking. In fact, over the last few weeks, I spent a lot of time tracking down ingredients and experimenting with cocktails that no reasonable person would drink on a regular basis (specifically due to the difficulty and expense of sourcing the ingredients). Thus, this week's (month's?) blog post will be the flip side of last time, in which I sort of advocated limiting ingredients in your bar (or, at least, seeking ways to use the ingredients you already have before seeking out new ones).

This week's cocktail is definitely not the result of such silliness. Instead, it is the direct result of 3-4 weeks of indulging whims and experimenting with fun ingredients I will never use with any regularity. Do you recall the booze devil I mentioned last time? The one constantly tempting me to buy odd ingredients and fine spirits of very limited utility? Well, he won out over the past month, in spades. I've been using ingredients I dislike outside the context of cocktails, such as celery and tea; I've purchased even more bottles of incredibly bitter Italian liqueurs, such as Fernet-Branca, which booze devil specifically recommended in May; I've even combined way too many habanero peppers with ginger and beer in an attempt to create my own cocktail (it wasn't very good).

All of that exploration led to some really good cocktails, and one of the big stars was a complicated twist on one of my favorites, the Caipirinha cocktail. I've already explainedhow much I love the simplicity and jungle funk of the classic Caipirinha, one of the best 3-ingredient cocktails I know, but I recently found a recipe for a middle-eastern take on the drink and decided I would invest the time necessary to try it out. Not a small investment, either, since this was easily the most time-consuming libation I've ever mixed up. From finding the necessary ingredients to preparing all of the components for mixing, this cocktail was a multi-day endeavor.
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In all seriousness, I had good reasons for losing my stride, initially. After that, it just kind of... lingered. I could have returned sooner. It became sort of like that thing you don't want to do because you haven't been doing it and continuing to not do it is easier than tackling the idea of doing it again after not doing it for so long... or something. Like when you missed Monday and Tuesday back-to-back in 3rd grade because you had a fever, and then Wednesday literally seemed impossible. Or when you were behind on a project in high school and didn't even know where to begin catching up. Or, something very similar to both of those hypotheticals but which has nothing to do with school. For whatever reason, my anxiety exemplars are all about grade school.

...anyway. I'm back, and I will try to do better. The good news is I've built up a small backlog of things to write about--drinking is easier than writing a blog, so I've kept up with that end of things. From the Rye Negroni that fascinated (and incapacitated) me early in the month of March (pro tip: never overindulge in spirits as aggressively distinctive as Campari), to the various tiki drinks and flavorful punches I explored as the cold weather began to wane, there is a lot to choose from. And I'm sure I will share all of the highlights, at some point--there were a lot of really good ones in the month of the lion and the lamb, including the best MaiTai recipe I've ever tried.

But, I'm going to go a different direction for this post, because I'm not yet in the mood to really dig into a classic cocktail and try to relate what makes it tick. Instead, I'm going to share two very different cocktails (because two makes me feel better about being away so long), one of which I really detested, and one of which I really liked. The firstone probably doesn't deserve to be called a "cocktail," actually. It is something more along the lines of what our good friend Pooh Bear is enjoying up at the top of this post, in an odd mix of pop art-ish commercial branding and weird, copyright-infringing appropriation.
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Compare with excerpts from Smurf In Hand:
Upon gaining access to the warehouse it became readily apparent that the smugglers were forewarned and had likely abandoned this base of operations in the middle of the night. There were various partially empty bags of animal feed piled in one corner as well as a couple of empty cages. A metal desk’s drawer opened to reveal an empty ampoule of animal tranquilizer.

We were going to tape the area off for later inspection when a faint noise drew my
attention. Inside a wastebasket lying on top of a pile of dirty rags was what appeared to be a tiny blue humanoid creature’s head, I thought back to a recent training seminar and wondered if what I was looking at was the seldom seen Smurf! Remembering that these sentient Lilliputians could speak I was about to address it, but I realized at a second glance that this was an infant of the species, a baby smurf.

What my daughter wouldn’t give to be here right now! She actually made me take the photos of baby smurfs from last year's National Geographic and blow them up to poster size for her room. She even had the official life size (which isn’t very big at all) baby smurf soft vinyl doll, the proceeds of its purchase going to the preservation of the smurfs’ habitat worldwide.

The baby smurf before me wasn’t in good shape however. The noise I had heard had been it’s hoarse crying and sobbing. Looking up at me the creature was visibly terrified. The diminutive blue being’s body had bean tightly wrapped in rough sisal twine from chin to toe. The wee little infant strained futilely against its bonds, rocking back and forth between sobs.

I picked the creature up, noting by the color of its trademark little hat that I was probably looking at the very rare (except for baby smurfs) female of the species. The bewildered thing’s face was a mask of terror as I scrutinized it with fascination. The other agents had by now gathered around and there was nowhere the panicking baby smurf could turn without seeing a human face.

I started to unwrap the twine and when I’d finished the poor little creature was naked except for it’s little hat. I had guessed right about the baby smurf’s ***. The tight, rough sisal twine had gouged into the smurf’s tender blue skin, leaving its impression deep in the flesh. The creature also exhibited signs of abuse; miniscule bruises everywhere including on the unusual round little tail. I gave the tail a curious gentle squeeze as the little blue biped squirmed in my grasp, eliciting a frantic yelp of pain. It’s pitiable appendage was still sore from being pinched by whomever the smurf’s former tormentors had been. Its tail also exhibited the telltale puncture mark of a syringe.
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A stern looking nurse guided me down the hall, explaining that on the weekend she was the only medical staff on duty. We passed by a windowed room where a half dozen or so baby smurfs slept and played, attended to by a pleasan looking lady that obviously loved her tiny charges An armed security guard stood outside the door
Further down we entered the examination room. I tried to reassure the smurf baby that it was okay as I took him out of my pocket and handed him over to the nurse. With an efficient hand she immediately stripped off the tiny smurf's pajamas and his smurf hat, plopping him onto the cold metal exam table. The exposed little blue fun was a pitiful sight, shivering from the touch of the cold metal on his bare skin. He whimpered as he did the day before when I had tried to remove his little hat. I was about to say something to the nurse about it
but she now acted like I wasn't even in the room as she went about the exam. When she produced a niny glass thermometer I knew what was coming and simply had to look away. wincing with empathy when I heard the little creature's distressed squeak. At last the ordeal was over, and my baby smurf was declared to be in fine health. I finished up the paperwork in the reception area as the traumatized little being hid in my coat pocket. Later, back at my home I consoled the little blue creature, affectionately stroking and squeezing its soft knob of a tail for nearly half an hour before he reverted to his playful and carefree demeanor. I thought that while the weekend nurse may have done her job "by the book" I was still stunned that she hadn't made any effort to treat such a
precious, sentient being with the dignity that it surely deserved.
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IIRC Null used an authorship AI to determine that May’s tweets were being ghostwritten by Ralph, but I can’t find what it was. Does anyone have that?

In addition: Smurf In Hand admits he has a daughter. David’s daughter would have been about 10 at the time, which fits with what he’s describing.
What my daughter wouldn’t give to be here right now! She actually made me take the photos of baby smurfs from last year's National Geographic and blow them up to poster size for her room. She even had the official life size (which isn’t very big at all) baby smurf soft vinyl doll, the proceeds of its purchase going to the preservation of the smurfs’ habitat worldwide.
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He presents the story as what he ”would do if baby smurfs were real and he found one”, so…
 
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The Vietnam flashbacks to this thread are harrowing, but the update makes it a closure. Holy fuck, was as simple as reverse-imaging his stupid avatar and boom.

So his wife's a whale, no wonder he developed the Smurfs kinks he did. He needed to get it up somehow at the cost of everyone else's sanity.

Sentient Vaccum said:
'How did you do it? How did you manage to find this mystery man after all this time??'

'Googled a picture. Fun times'.
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Just have to say QT's face there makes the reply quote all the more palatable.
 
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Windows Error 98 said:
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He looks like Bald and Bankrupt (the YouTuber who explores ex-Soviet countries and/or scary places who is likely a sex pest):
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@Pee Cola didn't you and some of the other B&B watchers say he always had something mildly off/creepy looking about him? This Tolin guy being a likely sex pest too isn't helping with the whole physiognomy correlation here...
 
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thinking a bit more, "it was obviously this one dude but nobody bothered to check the image" might rival the reveal after the death of the Kit N Kay Boodle guy that literally his entire family was made up but since he wasn't a jerk about being batshit insane it apparently never came up enough for anybody to really call him out on it
 
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