That's what my family called Weihenstephaner Hefeweizen. It was one of the few good beers I could get them to drink at Rich O's.

I went there today for a pizza, and saw to my delight that they had good old WeffenSteffen on tap. It was as delicious as ever. I was a little ashamed when I checked my app and saw that I hadn't had it since 2015.

See, there's no segue at all. I've tried to think of one. A way to smoothly and eloquently transition from woe is me I miss LaptopGirl to anything else. Anything at all, really.

I've got a lot of topics, but I've never had a segue.

Oh well. This will have to do.

Anyway...

Wednesday after work, because I'm stupid, I went to Sportstime (AKA The Weird Side). Just in case, you know? Last time I went there on a Wednesday was, um, interesting.

While there, I realized that I was there for a stupid reason, so I texted OddlyFamiliarGirl to give me a non-stupid reason for being in that area. Like maybe we could meet at stupid Jack's¹ or something. Kind of a virtual Sunday.

Well, she said she could-ish meet me, then she flaked, then she said she could meet me after all, but by that time I was home already. We ended up saying we'd do it Thursday night instead.

First thing Thursday morning, OddlyFamiliarGirl texted to flake again. I didn't let this bother me, because there was plenty of time left for an unflaking. I remained confident.

After work I went straight to stupid Jack's and texted OddlyFamiliarGirl. As I'd expected and hoped, she unflaked and said she'd be there at 6:00.

As I had over an hour to kill, I grabbed a table and shot pool for an hour or so. I was using my Predator SP, the one I bought in Omaha in 2004 and just had shipped to me. I kinda like it, but the main reason I had it with me was because it's the only cue I feel halfway good about leaving in my car.

Anyway, as women are so wont to do, OddlyFamiliarGirl was late. But, as most women are totally not wont to do, she texted me to let me know that she'd be late.

So I killed some time talking to this one dude who's also an outcast from Rich O's, and to this other dude who's pretty much an outcast from society.

Once OddlyFamiliarGirl showed up, we pretty much just did our usual thing. Sat and talked and drank and smoked. Fun and educational. She is trying to help me with this one conundrum so I don't fuck it up and make it even worse than it already is. I think she can help. OddlyFamiliarGirl is really smart and stuff.

Also, that one girl was really hot. I did an admirable job, I think, of pretending to ignore her while I continued my conversation with my friend. Had that girl been wearing glasses, however, then all bets would have been off.

I had myself a couple GumballHeads, then I switched to Diet Coke for the rest of the evening. I'm such a lightweight.

Then, around 10:00, I came back home and eventually went to bed.

It was a nice night.

1 - I don't think I've ever really explained why I call the place stupid Jack's. Instead of, you know, Jack's, which is its real name. It's stupid Jack's because I used to go there to be closer to LaptopGirl's apartment, in case she invited me over. It wasn't stupid Jack's at the time - it was all efficient and shit - but once the invitations stopped it became stupid. This is not the same reasoning behind the name stupid Bearno's when referring to the Floyds Knobs location of that chain.

I guess my recent blogging hiatus has mostly been innocent. I upgraded my PC, in several stages, from XP Pro to Windows 7 Professional 64-bit, and the upgrades didn't go very smoothly. My computer was down for well over a week.

But it's back now. I was actually very pleasantly surprised by the two different Microsoft support girls I talked to. They were very patient and knowledgeable. I also like to imagine that they were hot.

So now there are no more excuses for not writing anything. None except the usual ones, that is. None of that has changed. Just more of the same old shit.

Tonight, my tentative plan is to go out to my garage, glare at my phone, and drink a New Holland Night Tripper. It's a very yummy beer, and it's 10.8% ABV. So maybe I'll be loosened up enough to actually write something later.

I'm not making any promises, though.

Back when I started this thing - call it a blog or a journal, I don't really care - the purpose was very different than it's been lately. Back then, it was just something I did so that people (my sisters, mainly) would know that I had a life; that I didn't spend my life sitting in a dark closet, sucking my thumb and rocking fore and aft.

More recently, of course, this thing has been used primarily to whine about my life and the lack thereof.

Well, I'm not going to say that I'm not going to whine anymore. That would be a lie. I guarantee that I'll whine again, and probably sooner than later. But not tonight.

For the next 10 weeks, I'll be gone from that thing that I've been using instead of a life. I'm out of touch, despite the occasional email or text message, and I'm also out of sync. The three-hour difference in time zones sucks. It means that, for example, it's 10:00 PST as I type this in Bellingham, but back home all of the people I care about are already asleep.

I miss my friends and family, and I suppose that's to be expected.

It's such a nice night outside. It's warm, I mean. So even though the predicted thunderstorms look like they're a no-go, it's still nice.

I'm going to go out to my garage, and sit on my el-cheapo white plastic furniture, and drink at least one yummy Marzen, and I'm going to try to get out of this damn writey mood that I'm in.

How do I do that?

Well, I allow myself to be overwhelmed. So that thoughts refuse to line up like baby ducks. So that my mind is awash and aswarm with thousands of conflicting thoughts and emotions. So that I couldn't pick a single tree out of that forest if my life depended on it.

I make no promises, though. I might be able to keep my big fat mouth shut, or I might not.

There are things that I need to say, dammit. There are things that need to be said, dammit. There are thoughts that need to be expressed, dammit.

There are dragons that need to be slain, dammit, or at least acknowledged.

So, there is a very real chance that I'm drunk right now. But that's okay. It's 3:07 AM on a Thursday morning. I'm safely at home, where I plan to stay for the next several hours and/or days and/or weeks and/or months, at least until I become sober again. I am no menace to either myself or to society.

And besides, it's not even my fault at all that I'm maybe possibly drunk. And it's not even OddlyFamiliarGirl's fault, even though before her kind invitation I'd been planning to go to sleep at 7:00 or so, and after her kind invitation I ended up having a nice Marzen (16022) and a nice Urbock (437) while at Rich O's.

It is, of course, LaptopGirl's fault. Who's else would it be? She is, after all, the root of all evil and the fountain of all goodness in my life. Why shouldn't she also be in charge of my drunkenness or lack thereof?

So I ended up buying a bottle of Avery Reverend to take home with me, and then, because of the aforementioned you-know-who, I ended up drinking the damn thing (716) while I glared at my phone and replied to emails and strived to remain useful whilst I died inside.

I will be fair, though. I will share the blame. It was me who poured the beer from the bottle into the glass, and it was me who then poured the beer from the glass into my mouth.

Did you ever wish that water wasn't wet? Or that the sky wasn't blue? Or that the Sun wasn't hot and bright?

Or that love wasn't real?

Anyway, it just doesn't fucking matter. None of it does. I can no more take my heart back now than I could have resisted giving it away so long ago. It no longer belongs to me, and it never will again.

And the truth is that I like this mood I'm in right now. I'm fucking focused, after all. The universe, and the room, and the inside of my skull - these things are all quite blurry and wavy, but everything that matters is still in perfect focus.

I'm in love with her.

So there.

A lot of the fucking time, I wish that I wasn't in love with her.

So there again. Take that.

But wishes are as useful in my life as, as they say, screen doors on a submarine.

I sit here and I sit there and I sit wherever I might happen to be sitting, and I wish and I wish and I wish and I wish, and then on the good nights I wish no more, because I realize that it's a waste of time and effort.

Things are the way that they are. Things aren't the way that they aren't. Not a single thing that I do or say or think or feel will ever change anything, because it's not up to me, and it never has been up to me.

I did not lie.

Not even once.

Not even a little bit.

Lot of good that did me.

So there.

I went to Rich O's for a bit last night, after HatGirl and I parted company. I wasn't there very long. Just long enough for one beer, but it was long enough, I suppose.

Long enough to get me back into my old habits of flinching every time I'd hear a female voice, and of never ever turning my back on the door.

I'd been planning to just go to the Sportstime side of things, but a glance into the window had revealed that Sportstime was packed. Rich O's wasn't much better, but I was able to sit in the throne while I wondered (a) how stupid I was for being at Rich O's, and (b) who all those people were.

I didn't recognize a single person in that crowd. It was like I'd entered the wrong bar.

Anyway, I had myself a Marzen (15943) and then I left a little before 9:00.

It's funny that I'm calling this part one. That implies that there'll be additional parts. But I seriously doubt it. I'm really taxing my brain as it is, thinking about and writing about something that happened so long ago that it's almost folklore by default.

Anyway, it was 1996. Dinosaurs roamed the Earth, and primitive mammals spent their days scurrying to and fro and counting the days until they'd be in charge of things. I know. I was there. I was one such mammal.

I arrived in Alaska on January 2nd. It was my second trip to Anchorage, but the first one of any consequence or duration. I think the previous visit had been in the Spring of 1994, and it had only lasted a few days.

I wish I'd paid more attention. But, back then, I was too busy scurrying. And avoiding dinosaurs. And watching the sky for comets. And being cold.

I've looked at the weather pages on the internet, and I can't find confirmation, but the high temperature that first day was nineteen degrees below zero, according to the television lady. I remember that she was quite cute, as if that matters.

I spent my first night in a hotel. A Holiday Inn or some such. There was a brewpub in the hotel, and they had a pumpkin ale. Back then, I wasn't into beer at all. I mean, I knew that there was beer that I liked and beer that I didn't like, but I hadn't yet formed any theories as to why any one particular beer might be categorized one way or another. I was pretty sure that I didn't like lagers, and I was starting to suspect that I liked ales, but I'd gone no further that those two preliminary hypotheses.

So I had the pumpkin ale, and it was fucking yummy. Unlike anything I'd had before. I had three or four more.

But I digress.

The next day, my coworker arrived. He took over the hotel room, and I moved to the apartment that my company had secured. Fine with me. Mainly I just needed a place to smoke and watch TV and sleep, and an apartment seemed like a better place than a hotel. I don't know why.

The apartment was in the walk-out basement of a house in the center of town. There was a dude living in the house, and I knocked on his door to get a key to the apartment.

Anybody remember the old Captain Kangaroo TV show? Okay, remember Mr. Green Jeans from that show? Well, the dude who owned the house/apartment looked exactly like Mr. Green Jeans. But he didn't act like Mr. Green Jeans. Nope, this guy was between seventy and three-thousand years old, and, because of senility or brain-freeze or something, had the mental capacity of a turnip.

At first, I tried to make myself feel better by imagining that the dude was just a partier who was drunk all the time, but by the third or fourth time that he'd managed to wake me up by shoveling snow at 4:00 AM, I knew better.

I'm digressing again, dammit.

It was fucking cold.

The weather page on the internet is no help, but the hot lady on TV assured me that, for the first three weeks I spent in Anchorage, the high temperature was eighteen below zero. Then, on or about the 20th of January, it shot up to seven below zero.

Woo-hoo!

T-shirts and shorts became the uniform of the day. All over Anchorage, alabaster skin competed with reluctant sunlight in a contest to see which could cause the most blindness. Me, well I continued to dress like a normal person who was freezing to death - a cheechako in Alaskanese - with my coat and glove and boots and the like. I did learn an important lesson that day, though. For me, the dividing-line between cold and fucking cold is at ten degrees below zero.

There is a difference. There really is. At ten below zero, I can function. At eleven below zero, I might as well be a chunk of ice that won't melt until June.

In Anchorage, they say, there are three seasons each year.

Winter lasts from late August until April or so. Next is Breakup, during which the snow and ice decides that it's maybe time to start thinking about melting and forming puddles. The more disgusting the puddles, the better.

The third season is road construction, and that lasts from the end of Breakup until the beginning of Winter, or for about a week and a half during late July and early August.

Wow, I've already written more than I expected, and I haven't even gotten to the good part yet.

Stay tuned for part two if I ever get around to writing it.

So I went to the thingy. I went by myself, though that wasn't my preference. I'd invited KittenDamsel, but she was being weird. Then I'd invited LaptopGirl, but she'd thought I was being weird. This latter situation almost made me want to just stay home and pout, but then I called BadPickleGirl and she was going. Plus I was pretty sure that SpoonsGirl would be there, so odds were pretty good that I'd have someone to talk to at the thingy. Even better would have been if Eric and Teri would have gone, but they had some reunion to go to. Oh well.

I'd decided that Gumballhead would be my beer of choice for the evening. I was going to drive to Clarksville to get some, but BadPickleGirl said that the store right there in Greenville carried it. Even though I was doubtful, that's where I ended up going. BadPickleGirl was right, Gumballhead was available. So I got a warm six-pack of that and also a twelve-pack of Fat Tire and went to Dina's.

There were, of course, a million people there. Most of them I didn't know. But that was okay. I talked to BadPickleGirl and SpoonsGirl and SpoonsGirl's husband for most of the night. Over the course of about nine hours, I had a couple Fat Tires (1354) and four Gumballheads (1190). I talked to the aforementioned people. I watched the other people. I didn't glare at my phone too much.

And there were kitties all over the place. I got to pet some of them, and the youngest kitten did a decent job of shredding my hand as I played with it. I like kittens.

Usually I like to make an early Batmanesque exit from Dina's parties, so I have time to go to Rich O's. But last night I stayed until midnight or so, and I was one of the last people to leave.

I guess that's it.

Maybe it's just a matter of reigning myself in a little. I've certainly been unable to stop myself, even though quite often lately I've wanted to do just that.

This is an idea I had come to me last night. Apparently this idea was hiding at the bottom of a glass of Marzen (12419). That's a weird place for an idea to be hiding, but I'll still take it.

Wanting something because you feel like you should want it, or because you used to want it, or because you can't think of anything better?

Smells like bullshit to me.

I've been so damn stubborn. I watched everything crumble and I refused to really accept that it was happening. Had happened. Whatever.

Trying to stay somewhat cryptic here, while remaining readable. I don't think I'm succeeding.

The other night I found myself smiling, when I had a realization that there was one thing that hadn't crumbled.

One thing that hadn't changed.

And it never will. And it's the only thing that matters. There need be no expectations to erode or desires to dull. Lust lessens and faith falters and wants wane and hope becomes hazy.

Fuck all that other stuff, all that icing. I really think I can do this. I've already been doing it for years, after all.

So Sunday morning I found myself afflicted with a bad case of wanderlust. I didn't really know where I wanted to go, I just knew it had to be somewhere that wasn't New Albany. I looked at Nashville and Indianapolis and even Chicago, but eventually decided on Covington. It's not a big city, but it's got everything I need, especially distance from home.

I called KittenDamsel and invited her along. She declined, saying she'd had a long night. Then she said she might drive up there and meet me. I took this as "No way am I going to Covington" because that's how my brain works. Oh well. More beer for me then.

First thing I needed to do, however, was buy a laptop. I'll need this for when I travel, whether it's for work or play. When my former employer eliminated my position, they had the nerve to take their company-owned laptop back. Imagine that. So I stopped at Best Buy, looked at their selection, and bought an el-cheapo Compaq that would suit my meager needs. Thusly armed, I drove to Covington. It's only a two-hour drive.

After I'd arrived, and updated RockGirl with my location - RockGirl knows everything about my life - I settled into my usual Covington routine. I checked into the Holiday Inn, threw my shit into the room, and walked across the street to Skyline Chili for lunch. Yummy. Then I walked up to The Cock & Bull for a couple pints of yummy Moerlein OTR (463). While I was there, drinking my beer and watching a baseball game on TV, KittenDamsel called and said she was on her way. Yay!

I had some time to kill, so I went back to the hotel and messed with my new laptop for a while until KittenDamsel arrived. She wanted to hear polka music for some stupid reason, so we drove over to the Hofbrauhaus in nearby Newport and had dinner. I don't like that place. Not only is it too loud, it's too loud with polka music. The food was good, though.

After dinner, we walked across this purple bridge spanning the Ohio River, and dicked around there for a while. Then we drove back to the hotel, parked, and walked up to the MainStrasse area where all the bars are. After that the night got a little blurry. I know that I had three more OTRs (523) and a couple Newcastles (13818) as we walked around to various bars and clubs. It was a nice warm night, but not too warm. It was almost perfect, in fact. Especially the company. We drank too much, but neither of us got sick, so that was good.

Monday morning we were both a little hung-over. Not surprising. What was surprising was that KittenDamsel wanted to go to King's Island, a local amusement park. She'd already called in sick, and I certainly didn't have any reason come home right away, so to King's Island we went.

This was the first time I'd been there since I was 14 or so. It's much bigger now, and maybe not as crowded, and there were no dinosaurs to be seen. It was a fun few hours, except for that last roller coaster that went upside-down and made me queasy.

It was a really nice time up there. I'm really glad that I went, and I'm really glad that KittenDamsel could make it. She almost managed to distract me from thoughts of LaptopGirl. Almost. And I think I almost managed to distract her from thoughts of her ex-boyfriend. Almost.

It was kinda weird to spend all that time with her and then have to drive home separately, but oh well.

Oh yeah, I also bought a case of OTR and brought it home. So that gives me something to look forward to.

It was a good day. Long, but good. Started at about 4:00 this morning at Denny's, and ending I hope very soon.

I was supposed to have Indian food with HatGirl, but she wasn't feeling well. I was disappointed about not getting to see HatGirl, but I hadn't been particularly looking forward to Indian food, so I guess it all worked out.

Problem was, I'd gotten myself all motivated to leave my house, and so I had to come up with some other reason to do so. I tried to book a hotel room in Covington. I was going to surprise KittenDamsel with an invitation because we were supposed to go there last weekend. But Covington was all booked up. I tried three hotels and there were no rooms available in any of them.

Next I tried to just book a room at the local hotel/casino, but they were booked, too.

Shit!

We ended up going down to the casino anyway. We did some gambling - I managed to turn $100 into about $105 playing blackjack - and we stuffed ourselves silly at the buffet. I was disappointed that their Asian noodle salad wasn't on the buffet today, but their Asian meatballs were, so I stuffed myself on those and kung pao chicken and moo goo gai pan. KittenDamsel had fish, because she's boring and stuff.

There was also beer consumed at their Legends bar. I had some Newcastles (13774) and she had some swill, because she's boring and stuff.

Later, what was supposed to be an hour long nap somehow turned into an almost six-hour nap. We have no idea how that happened. KittenDamsel was extremely late in meeting her friends, and I was extremely behind in my phone-glaring quota for the night.

So we parted company. I went to Rich O's and, after I'd glared at my phone for an hour, felt better. The Marzen (11568) didn't hurt matters either. It was quite crowded at Rich O's, survivors from some beer thingy they'd had in Clarksville. Most of the regulars were there, and some of the irregulars. I didn't really talk to anyone except NotHideousGirl and UPSDude.

After Rich O's closed, I came home. I've been glaring at my phone ever since, so I think I've satisfied my quota. Tomorrow it starts over again.

Now I have a decision to make.

I bought cold Barley Island Barfly, introduced to me by LaptopGirl and very good even though it is an IPA. I also bought warm Left Hand Smoke Jumper, a yummy smoked porter that is actually what I went into the store to buy in the first place.

So, I could drink some Barfly right now, even though it's not really what I wanted, and even though it might make me think sad thoughts. At least it's cold and ready to drink.

Or, I could wait another hour or so for the Smoke Jumper to get cold enough.

This is a tough decision. I think I need a drink while I try to decide.

My Monday night started out pleasantly enough. KittenDamsel bought me dinner (Wendy's) in exchange for me hooking her DVD player up correctly. I'd told her last weekend that she could get a much better picture and 5-channel sound just by using the proper cables and connections, but she played the girl-card, and so I offered to fix things for her.

Besides eating dinner and crawling around behind her entertainment center, I spent a lot of time poking my finger into her spiffy new sunburn and watching it change colors. Mesmerizing.

Then I went to Rich O's. While there, I alternated between glaring at my phone and glaring at the door. Neither activity proved fruitful. After PearlGirl and her boyfriend left, there really wasn't anyone there I felt like talking to, so I picked up my shit and moved to the bar to finish my Marzen (11138). By 9:30 I was really bored, and my eyes were kind of tired from all the glaring, so I left. But then I remembered that there was no place to go, so I went back to Rich O's.

I was having a nice glass of Franziskaner (39) when OddlyFamiliarGirl came in. So that was nice. We talked and whatever. I switched to Diet Coke. I left again at midnight when Rich O's closed.

That's when it got annoying.

I got pulled over. Or, actually, I went to the haunted Burger King and the cop followed me with his lights flashing, so maybe that doesn't really count as getting pulled over. I'm sure he would have pulled me over if I hadn't been stopping anyway.

The guy came up to my truck and asked for the usual paperwork. I gave him my license and, while I was fishing for my current registration, he told me that I hadn't used my turn signal when turning onto Grant Line Road. I felt like calling bullshit on that. I always use my turn signal, even when I'm leaving my own driveway, but I figured it would be his word against mine. Plus, he was the one with the gun.

He asked me, of course, where I was coming from. I said Rich O's. So he asked me, of course, how much I'd had to drink. I said a Marzen (11138) and a Franziskaner (39). Upon seeing the quizzical look on his face, I clarified that I'd had two beers.

I realize that "two beers" is probably the standard answer given by people under suspicion, so I wasn't surprised at all when he had me take off my glasses and follow his pen around with my eyes. I guess that test didn't yield the result that he wanted, because then he went back to his car for five years, and came back and had me blow into a thingy. As I was not immediately arrested, I knew I'd passed that test as well.

I will admit, however, that for a few moments there I was concerned that I might have grossly miscalculated.

And the guy was just doing his job, helping to keep us all safe. I have a lot of respect for (most) cops.

He ended up giving me a ticket for not using my turn signal, and then he sent me on my way.

I'd originally stopped at the haunted Burger King to get something to eat. But the crap with the cop had lasted just long enough, and they were closed by the time the cop left. So I came home instead.

It really is too bad that she's not photogenic at all, isn't it?

So this was pretty much the highlight of my night. After HatGirl left I glared at my phone for a while, then went over to Jack's. I was starving, but the kitchen had just closed.

I spent a couple of hours talking to this one dude about various topics, one of which being - All white guys look younger than they really are. So that was good to know, I guess.

They showed a commercial for Skyline chili at one point, and after that I couldn't shut up about how much I was craving some Skyline. So, when I left Jack's, I went to Kroger and bought the stuff I'd need to make my own.

And that's what I did, as soon as I got home.

Oh yeah, I also had a new beer when I was at Rich O's.

Ayinger Leichte Brau-Weisse

(draft) Hazy yellow, with a decent head that lasted long enough. A nice aroma and flavor, both fairly standard for a German wheat beer. Good, a little dry. Tasted stronger than it was.

Then we walked a mile or so to HatGirl's car, so we could put our extra crap in there and not have to lug it around all day. Next, we walked all the way back to my truck. We walked all the way back to my truck because I'm retarded. I'd left our tickets for the craft beer tent thingy there. When we got back to the parking lot the dude was still admiring my truck. I think he had an erection, but I was afraid to look too closely.

Then we walked back to the riverfront. The craft beer tent thingy didn't open until 2:00, and it was only 12:30, so we went into Hooters where my cousin Jeff awaited. He'd gotten us free wristbands. That was nice of him. We had some Diet Cokes and sat around for a while.

Oh, and we saw TremensGirl and Bubbles walking around, so that was nice.

Once the thingy opened, we got something to eat and then went down this steep-ass hill to the river. We watched the airshow, which was very cool. There was a fucking helicopter doing fucking loop-de-loops. I didn't think that was even possible in a helicopter. During this period I had myself a Gumballhead (534). This is also when the events portrayed in the comic two entries ago happened, so I had myself 14 ounces of Upland Wheat (297), too.

This was about when I had myself another Gumballhead (550). It was yummy.

Anyway, once the fireworks were over, we were going to hang out for a while, but all of the bars closed early, so we went and sat in HatGirl's car for a half-hour or so, waiting for traffic to start moving. Then we went to White Castle then she drove me to my house.

It was a really fun day, and I only missed a certain person a million times, instead of the asstillion times I'd been predicting.

When HatGirl took me to get my truck yesterday, I'll admit that I was a little disappointed that the dude hadn't washed and waxed it for me. I guess I should have just been grateful that it wasn't covered with his semen.

The first part of the day consisted of work, punctuated by lunch at Wendy's with HatGirl. I only mention that because, after work, I had dinner with HatGirl at Buckhead in Jeffersonville. I only mention that because tomorrow HatGirl and I are going to this fireworks thingy. I only mention that because, as I said a few entries ago, I got to see HatGirl at Rich O's on Tuesday and Wednesday.

Like I've already said, HatGirl is doing one hell of a job keeping me distracted. In other words...

HatGirl!

Yay!

It was funny to us.

I will never get tired of HatGirl, by the way.

So then after dinner - I had a Paulaner Hefeweissbier (607) - I decided to stop at Rich O's. You know, just for a change of pace, also known as a Schlenkerla Marzen (10299).

This is, from right to left, the lovely BadPickleGirl, my lovely self, and the lovely friend of BadPickleGirl who doesn't get a nickname unless I see her again.

Tuesday and Wednesday nights were very similar to each other. Both nights I went to Rich O's and met HatGirl.

HatGirl!

Yay!

I'm getting so spoiled by HatGirl. She's been so good about helping to keep me distracted. She's always been really good at distracting me. Plus, she managed to talk me into going to the fireworks thingy without even really having to try.

Also, both nights I drank some beer. Also, both nights MusicalYuppieDude was there and I talked to him some.

Wednesday night was a little different because I texted OddlyFamiliarGirl and she came down after she got off work. So we sat and talked for our usual couple of hours, then I gave her a ride home.

I never said this would be an interesting entry. I'm suprised I can write anything at all.

It was really fucking crowded when I got to Jack's last night. So crowded, in fact, that I had to walk back outside and try to come up with reasons to go back inside. I guess the reasons that I came up with were (a) I'd driven down there, (b) I wanted a beer, and (c) I'd already told OddlyFamiliarGirl that I was there and (d) she was on her way.

Originally, there wasn't going to be any beer last night, and therefore no Saturday Beer Report. I'd had an impromptu date at my house, and we watched Big Fish and Meet Dave courtesy of Netflix. Those two movies put me into a bad mood, mostly the latter, because it was so stupid.

So I decided, once I was alone, that I didn't really want to be alone. So I went to Jack's.

I managed to grab a table and, once OddlyFamiliarGirl showed up, we sat and talked for a couple of hours. I had two bottles of Rogue Dead Guy (879) and they were very good.

Oh yeah, now I'm supposed to watch Gone with the Wind, because OddlyFamiliarGirl says I'm either Rhett or Scarlett. It's been a long time since I've watched that movie, but I'm pretty sure I own it and it's around here somewhere.

After OddlyFamiliarGirl went home, I moved up to the bar and had some Diet Coke and talked to these chicks who kept having flaming homers or something like that. I asked if the flames made the drinks taste any different, and they admitted that it was all just for show.

Omaha was just too far away, I finally realized. I really wanted to be there, but I didn't want to go there. It's a 13-hour drive, after all.

But I still wanted and needed to go somewhere, just to get away from this situation for a night. So, I went to Covington KY.

The drive up was uneventful for the most part, except for the inevitable slew of emails and texts that always start streaming in whenever I'm driving. I replied to those as well as I could and managed to not get myself killed in the process.

When I was about halfway to Covington, SassyGirl called! We talked for a half-hour or so as I made my way up I-71. She and JauntyGirl are in Las Vegas, of all places. And so, of course, is HatGirl. And StupidGirl, of course, lives there. So three of my favorite women on Earth are all in Las Vegas at the same time. I'm a little surprised that MixedSignalGirl didn't call me to tell me that she was there as well.

And there I was, going to stupid Covington KY.

Once I arrived, I had my usual Covington lunch at Skyline Chili, then drove the short distance (it was raining) to the Mainstrasse area and went into the Cock & Bull bar. Not much has changed since I was last there in November, and that was good. And they still had Moerlein OTR on tap!

Yay!

So I had a couple pints of that (400) and decided that I'd be spending the night in Covington. I hadn't really made up my mind until then. I went and got myself a hotel room and took a nap for a couple of hours.

Went back to the Cock & Bull bar at 8:00 or so. I ordered an OTR, but they'd changed kegs and there was something wrong with it, so I only had a few sips (403) before switching to Newcastle. Then, after my Newcastle (12578) I decided to risk the OTR again. I figured maybe the glass had just been soapy or something. Well, I guess I was right, because my next OTR (423) was just fine.

Switched to Diet Coke and then, once the Cock & Bull got too crowded, I went back to the hotel and tried to sleep.

At 12:30 or so I gave up on sleep and drove home.

It has been proposed that it was weird for me to drive home last night. Perhaps, but I could tell that it was going to be a long sleepless night for me, and I was really dreading driving home this morning on little or no sleep. Better, I reasoned, to just drive home last night when I was still semi-alert. So that's what I did.

I was still awake at 5:00 when HatGirl started texting me from Las Vegas. I didn't complain because (a) it was HatGirl, and (b) I was awake anyway.

I think I finally got to sleep at 6:30 or so. Then I was awakened at 10:30 with an accusatory email.

Las Vegas is so lucky!

So I dropped HatGirl off at the airport, and hung out there with her for an hour or so before she had to go through security. Next, I was planning to just go over to Rich O's because I was meeting BadPickleGirl and some other people at 5:30 or so. But around 4:00 I found myself suddenly starving to death. I mean, I was so hungry that I was actually shaking a little bit. So I went to the haunted Burger King and scarfed down some food. After that I felt better, but my stomach was a little queasy.

I went to Rich O's. I sat at the throne and had a couple glasses of Diet Coke to calm my stomach. I glared at my phone. I waited for BadPickleGirl.

Once they all showed up, it was a pleasant enough evening. I had some glasses of Schlenkerla Marzen (10040) and then a Diet Coke. It was nice to be able to talk to some people closer to my own age.

I came home at 10:00 or so, then slept for a couple of hours before sleep once again escaped my grasp.

Tomorrow I want to take a trip.

So I decided, before I went out last night, that I was going to write a beer report about my evening.

Then it ended up being a very boring night.

I sat on the throne and had a couple glasses of Schlenkerla Marzen (9958) and talked to StonerGirl and a few other people. Then I switched to Diet Coke and talked to OtherDave for a while.

Then, after Rich O's closed, OtherDave and I went over to Jack's and talked some more. I had a couple bottles of Rogue Dead Guy (855) while I was there.

Other than those things, all I did was glare at my phone.

I'm still doing that this morning.

There was no way I could risk another "normal" Saturday night. Nope, not with the week I'd had. Any other blow would have been a fatal one.

So I decided that I'd go to Covington. I'd go there and I'd drink some OTR beer and I'd be far away - physically at least - from my life with all of its perils.

But noooooooooooooo!

Some crap happened at work, and I was informed that I'd need to stay close to home, in case things got worse.

So, at around 3:00, I had a brilliant idea. I texted HatGirl to see if she wanted to hang out.

She said yes!

HatGirl!

Yay!

We had a lot of fun just talking and hanging out. We went down to our local casino, ate too much food at their buffet, then drank too much beer at this Legends bar. Or I guess she drank too much beer - I was perfectly fine.

And now this makes two nights in a row, two different girls I've hung out with, and both have gotten sick. I guess I just have that effect on women. This is something I've long-suspected.

Anyway, I adore HatGirl, and she was exactly what I needed last night. After the horrible week I'd just been through, and which promised to spill over into the upcoming week, she was the perfect reminder of why it's sometimes worth the effort to keep breathing.

I was struck by a small series of thoughts today, as I sat hunched over my liquid lunch (Schlenkerla Fastenbier - 553) contemplating this ridiculous series of rejections that I use instead of a life, and because sometimes I just feel like writing something, I thought I'd write about my series of thoughts.

I guess most of us were young and obnoxious once, except those of you who are still young and obnoxious - get off my lawn, by the way - and even though most of us have outgrown that phase, we still remember what it was like.

Remember how, on warm days, how good it felt to roll down the car windows and crank up the volume on the radio? Or the tape player or CD player or whatever; you know what I mean.

It was impossible to not feel really cool, cruising down the street with your music blaring all around you. People would turn their heads as you drove by, and you'd imagine them thinking, "Now there goes a cool person. He's bringing music to the world. Livening up my boring life. Thank you, cool person."

But the problem is, never once in the history of the world has anyone ever thought those things. The people who drive around with their music blaring so loudly that everyone within a five-block radius can not only hear it, they can feel in their bones and in their teeth as the bass notes vibrate their fillings loose - those people are assholes. I'm also pretty sure that they blow dead goats when they get home.

I never said this would be an interesting entry.

Of course, I want to write something tonight. I'm actually in the mood to write, but I have no stupid power in my stupid house, so I'm typing this thing into my Blackberry. It works, but it's a hassle.

Both of my cats sensed my mood tonight, and both stayed close to me. Nugget stayed on my lap, and Buddy camped-out on the back of the couch, behind my head.

My fire, in its weird way, also kept me company. It's gone out now. I haven't decided whether I want to burn another log or not. That decision will go hand-in-hand with whether I want to have a third Marzen or not.

I was thinking about something I read once. Back in the olden days, before I was even born if you can believe that, they'd chop peoples' heads off. Criminals, mostly. But also, I like to think, people who were just assholes.

Anyway, I read once that some weird dude decided to conduct experiments with the recently beheaded. Right after the *thud* he'd pick up the head and look into the eyes. He was looking for some sign of consciousness, I guess.

Wait, maybe that's not quite appropriate.

There was a movie I once saw. This one dickhead pulled the heart out of some poor dude. He then showed the dude the heart, still beating in his hand. What a dickhead, right?

So the dude knew he was dead, and he also knew there wasn't fuck he could do about it.

Damn, this entry seemed like a much better idea before I started typing it.

I think it's time for another beer and another fire.

So, back on December 14th, I wrote that I'd managed to score myself some bottles of yummy Alaskan Smoked Porter. I estimated that those fifteen bottles, with proper discipline, should last me for a year.

Well, tonight I'm drinking my last bottle.

Between my ever-loosening definition of "special occasion" and my totally understandable desire to share my favorite beer with my favorite person, I'm down to one bottle.

I'd been thinking that I should at least save it until my birthday, but now I'm going to Las Vegas for my birthday. And I'll probably be able to buy some Alaskan Smoked Porter there.

Plus, it's been one of the worst weeks I've ever had, so I fucking deserve to have this last bottle tonight.

My only regret is that my swing is gone. I'd love to be able to sit on my swing with this lovely beer. As it is, I'll just sit out in my garage like a sucker.

So what do you do when something weird happens? Something so weird and unexpected that there is just no way to prepare for it ahead of time? And no way to react with anything besides reflexive babbling?

Like when you find yourself having a conversation that you'd been expecting to have six months earlier? A conversation that you'd thought was never going to happen, because so much time had passed, and so much trust had been earned and built?

Well, I now know what I do when something like that happens.

After the aforementioned reflexive babbling, I go to Rich O's, and I text OddlyFamiliarGirl to come see me. Then I talk to OddlyFamiliarGirl about various things for several hours.

Oh, and I also have four glasses of Marzen (7778) but three of those are gone before OddlyFamiliarGirl shows up.

That comic has nothing to do with anything. It's just something I thought of that was funny to me.

This entry brought to you by Alaskan Smoked Porter (773).

Recently - it might have been Monday or it might have been some earlier night, as the last months of my life have quite blurred together - OddlyFamiliarGirl told me that I should write more often. She talked about the things that had first drawn her to my blog; the honesty and the passion that I felt, which would so easily flow from my heart down my arms through my fingers and onto my keyboard. She wanted to read that kind of entry again.

I replied that I couldn't do it, that some things were just too hard to write about.

Like how an important question can seem to go unanswered, but it's not really. Refusal to answer is an answer all in itself. Evasion is taking a stand.

And like how unwillingness to choose is really just choosing to leave things the way that they are. To maintain the status quo, no matter how unstable it is. No matter how untenable the universe is.

And how Patience is a virtue, as some dillhole once said. I suppose I agree with that, most of the time. But sometimes, sometimes patience is a hindrance. Like when it's running out, and you can feel it draining away from you like dirty water spiraling down a drain. It's going away, and you know that you don't have much left, and all you can think about is, What will be left of me when it's gone? Will there be anything left at all?

And how sometimes the only way to be happy is to lie to yourself. To fool yourself into believing, even if only for a few hours, that it's the universe around you that lies, and it's not you lying to yourself.

And how it breaks your heart every single time you're reminded that sometimes love is irrelevant.

And how love can spring from the most unlikely connections, but you can't even come close to writing about that, because it's

After I got home Friday, I attempted to take a nap. That attempt, of course, failed. By then, I figured, I'd had about eight hours of sleep since the previous Saturday morning.

Yes, I was tired. Thanks for asking.

But I guess I must have hit some kind of wall, like long-distance runners always talk about. I reached a certain point of exhaustion, and not only did it not get any worse, it actually got a little better.

So I was dicking around on my computer, catching up on some of the reading that I'd let lapse during The Week Of Hell. I clicked over to the blog of MrPopular, and saw this entry.

For those of you who didn't feel like clicking, it has a mention about how this dude Mike was selling some bottled overstock and such. But even more interesting than what it says now it what it used to say.

It used to say that the items for sale included some bottles of Alaskan Smoked Porter.

It used to say that, and it doesn't anymore, because of me.

Now, I happened to be wearing pants when I read that Alaskan Smoked Porter was for sale. So the Rich O's crowd was spared the thrill disgust of seeing me run into the place as God might have intended. Not sure that a little public nudity would have made much of a difference, though, as I broke every traffic law known to man getting down there. I think that the trip that normally takes 15 minutes took about 15 seconds.

See, MrPopular has been sitting on these bottles (not literally sitting, I don't think) for a very long time. Every now and then I'd hear rumors about them, but rumors were all they were. Rich O's used to sell Alaskan Smoked Porter, but it's been years since that happened. I could, and did, have that lovely beer every time I went to Las Vegas, but even that luxury had been unavailable for over a year.

So I was excited. And I was also quite fearful that I'd be too late. That it would all be sold before I got there. That's why I broke all those traffic laws, and that's why it was probably a good thing that I was wearing pants when I read about the sale.

What ended up happening was that this server dude and I spent a few minutes looking for that Mike dude. Then, when we found him, I bought every bottle of Alaskan Smoked Porter there was.

Fifteen bottles of ebony ambrosia.

It's out there in my beer fridge now. That crappy dirty old refrigerator. Never before has it served such a noble purpose.

Those beers call to me. I estimate that, if I limit my intake to special occasions, I can probably make those bottles last a year.

But tonight I'm going to have one. As soon as I post this entry I'm going to sit in my detached garage and I'm going to have one.

"What's the special occasion?" you might ask.

It's quite simple, really.

I have fucking Alaskan Smoked Porter, and if that's not special then I don't know what is.

UPDATE: Fucking yummy! The only thing that could have made this beer taste better would have been if I'd been sharing it with her.

Last night I was able, thanks to some unseasonably warm weather, to sit out in my detached garage for a while. I'd found a bottle of Schlenkerla Marzen (6789) in my refrigerator and, what with yesterday having been what it was, I needed to drink it. So that's what I did. I sat on my el-cheapo white plastic furniture, drank my yummy beer, and contemplated the universe.

Much like when I went to the grocery store Monday night, I couldn't remember the last time I'd sat in my garage. It had certainly been a while. And, though the circumstances that led me to sit out there last night were pretty horrible, I suppose that I ended up enjoying it. Sometimes it's nice for me to simply enjoy my own company for a couple of hours.

I just sent RockGirl an email. She'd asked me when I slept.

Saturday night I didn't sleep a wink. I finally got to sleep at about 3:00 Monday morning and slept until 7:00. Monday night I think it was about 4:00 when I finally got to sleep. Yesterday after work I actually managed to take a two-hour nap, then I couldn't get to sleep again until at least 2:30.

This is a boring entry.

Early Friday afternoon I found myself missing my dad. A little more than usual, I mean. I was sitting in my Monte Carlo at the car wash, so that probably had something to do with it. The next thing I knew I was shivering at his gravesite.

Then to continue down nostalgia's trail I went to this Hitching Post bar in Louisville. It was Dad's hangout in New Albany. I try to go in there each year, on the anniversary of his death, and have a Falls City beer to his memory. Well, they don't make Falls City anymore, but they do still make Budweiser (24), and it's pretty much the same thing.

After a while, the bartender recognized Dad's old Monte Carlo parked out front, and so he figured out who I was. Next thing I knew there were three or four people in there talking about Dad, and they all had very good things to say. So that was nice.

Then this lady and her hot daughter came in and sat with me for a while. The mom said she'd met me before. I didn't remember it. The daughter kept making goo-goo eyes at me, and we made half-assed plans to go out sometime. I doubt that will ever happen but, just in case, I've dubbed her GooGooGirl.

I think I'm supposed to write something now. What, exactly, I'm not sure.

---

I had a very good evening.

---

I'm sober, but I'm not really sure how I managed it. I had a Newcastle (11787) at lunch, then a Schlenkerla Marzen (6592) before dinner, then three bottles of Barley Island Barfly (286) and a bottle of Barley Island Dirty Helen (484). I should be shitfaced, but I'm perfectly fine. Weird.

---

As I was driving home tonight, I saw a very bright shooting star, and I gave my wish to LaptopGirl. I hope she uses it wisely.

---

Today I had lunch with HatGirl.

HatGirl!

Yay!

She's such a good person. One of the best.

---

Sometimes I wish things weren't so lopsided. Because then I'd not only know exactly what to do, I'd actually be able to do it without it being weird.

---

There's been this hole in my soul for a long time. During times like tonight, when that hole is filled, I feel like a real person for a while. And then there was another hole. One I didn't even know about, and a little kid snuck right in and filled that hole like it was never even there.

---

Sometimes I can imagine myself being happy. It's nice, when I can do that.

---

I think I'm tired. I won't know for sure, though, until I go to bed. I guess I'll try that now. Long day tomorrow.

I think it took a single email, to start me down this path tonight. It doesn't take much, after all, to right that which is wrong.

Three bottles of Gumballhead (494) certainly didn't hurt, either.

I imagine good things, when I'm in this kind of a mood. I imagine them and I let the feelings - the feelings that always accompany such imaginings - wash over me. Wash away the debris from my heart and let it beat freely for a while.

I imagine fitting together. I imagine hands, arms, legs, intertwined. Of course I imagine those things. I'm not a eunuch, after all.

I imagine kissing lips, softly at first. I imagine that a lot.

But I imagine so much more. I imagine my heart, my mind, my very soul melded with those of another. Two people functioning together. So much stronger than the sum of their parts. Unbreakable. Indestructible.

Invincible.

People tell me that my heart, having been awakened by chance years ago, is now something rare and precious. That's just so very strange to me, when I realize just how true those words are.

Unconditional.

Boundless.

Devotion.

My heart is a fountain, longing for someone to take a drink.

Well, that might just be the cheesiest sentence I've ever written.

I am in a very nice mood. I hope it lasts for a while.

Work yesterday was fun. I'm on-call this week, and all hell broke loose Sunday and spilled over into Monday. I like dealing with technical problems like that. Much more fun than shuffling paperwork all the time.

Then I had a good evening. Of course I had a good evening. That which had been missing from my life, it was back. So that was cool.

Then all hell broke loose at work again, and I had to deal with that. It wasn't as much fun as it had been earlier.

Anyway, to review:

Pizza Hut Meaty Marinara = tastes like Chef Boyardee.
Schlenkerla Marzen (6396) = yummy.
Barley Island Barfly (170) = good.
Harpoon Winter Warmer (254) = yummy.

I wasn't even going to write about Saturday night. The entry would have seemed like a copy/paste of Friday, but there were some differences.

Instead of standing at the bar talking to ActualGeorge, I stood in the annex and talked to MusicalYuppieDude. He also wasn't quite as sure of my retardation as ActualGeorge had been Friday.

When I first got to Rich O's, there were about a dozen hot girls in the red room. So that was nice, I guess.

The place wasn't nearly as crowded as it had been Friday night.

After I left Rich O's, I went over to Louisville to see WeirdGirl for a bit. She was having some kind of crisis, but it must not have been too bad because she wanted to go bar-hopping and partying all night. I came home instead.

Those were the differences. The main thing that was the same was that I had three more glasses of Schlenkerla Marzen (6379) while I was at Rich O's.

Meanwhile, my refrigerator is broken.

Had a million things to do yesterday, so I ended up taking a half-day off work. And I managed to get everything done, mainly I think because HatGirl was sick and had to cancel our lunch date.

Last night I was in a pretty crappy mood, and I felt like I needed to share my crappy mood with other people, so I went to Rich O's at 7:30 or so. The place was pretty packed, both because it was a Friday night and because they were having some thingy out in the special people room. I don't know what that was all about, and I don't care.

At first I sat on the sofa, but as soon as TallLady left I moved to the throne. I had myself a Schlenkerla Marzen (6294) and talked to OtherDave and some other people. Oh yeah, StoreGirl was there. Hadn't seen her in months. So that was nice.

Then MusicalYuppieDude and WeatherGirl came in. It sucked that it was so crowded. I really wanted to talk to WeatherGirl because she's one of the people taking my side about this whole mess I use for a life. But the living room area was packed. I did try to get them to come and sit at the kiddie table, but they didn't, and then some weirdoes sat there instead.

I had a nice text-messaging conversation with HatGirl. She was still feeling a little icky, and declined my offer of free beer if she'd drag her ass to Rich O's. HatGirl is another person who's definitely on my side.

After a while, I got really claustrophobic, so I picked up my shit and moved to the end of the bar. Pretty much spent the rest of the night there, drinking a couple more glasses of Marzen (6328) and listening to ActualGeorge tell me that I'm retarded. Like I didn't already know that.

Once the thingy in the special people room was over, Rich O's proper got even more crowded. Part of the crowd was some photographer. I got to talking to him for a bit. He was there taking pictures for some website. I got him to take a bunch of pictures of me and StoreGirl - she being the only person I know who's more camera shy than I am.

Then I went back and let ActualGeorge tell me that I'm wasting my time for a while. I disagreed with that particular sentiment. Then at 11:30 or so I went to White Castle then came home.

Tuesday night seems like such a long time ago, but I'm going to try to write something, and Tuesday night would be a good place to start, I suppose.

The entire day pretty much sucked, what with my cat dying and all. I also didn't get to see her at all, and even email contact ended abruptly at 5:30.

So, I went to Rich O's. On a Tuesday night. Weird, I know.

At first I sat in the throne, but people kept trying to talk to me, so I moved to the island once it had been vacated. I had a Schlenkerla Marzen (6193) and a little pizza. I did my best to hold myself together, and I suppose I did okay for a while.

Then people came and joined me at the island and started talking to me. Being too unmotivated to pick up my shit and move again, I stayed put where I was.

Oh, and by people I mean ElPresidente and FirstLady, though some other people stopped by from time to time. I spent most of the next four hours talking to ElPresidente - a conversation which can be summed-up as follows:

ElPresidente: You're still whining about that?

Me: Yes. Yes I am.

ElPresidente: Idiot.

And so it went. But it was still lots better than going home and having to watch my remaining cats search in vain for their missing friend. And I even had another Marzen (6210) to help take the edge off things.

Wednesday was, by my estimation, a million-bazillion times better. I was still sad about Happy, of course, but I found myself a very nice distraction. I didn't get to eat lunch, but I got to see her and play Santa Claus to her son, so it was a very fair trade.

After work I went back to Rich O's. I had myself a Rogue Hazelnut Brown Nectar (243), then I bought a growler of it to take with me. For the second time in only a few hours, I got to be distracted from this bullshit I use for a life. We had this alfredo stuff from Pizza Hut that I thought was very good. We each had a couple glasses of the Rogue (273).

Then on the way home I stopped at Rich O's again. I had a Marzen (6227) and had a nice little email conversation. I also had a nice actual conversation with OddlyFamiliarGirl, who surprised me by still being alive.

OddlyFamiliarGirl said some very nice things to me, and made me feel like an actual decent person. So that was nice of her.

Anyway, then I came home and successfully avoided calling out Happy's name when I walked in the door.

We did end up hanging out for a while Sunday afternoon and evening. I can't write about that, though, except that I had a Barfly (140).

I've been saying that I've got this mood that I can't seem to shake. Well, that was wrong. It's not a mood that I get into, it's reverting to normal. That's why I haven't been able to shake it. Because it's not a mood at all, it's the way I am now. Instead of being a happy person with occasional bad moods, now I'm quite the opposite.

Anyway, after I'd reverted to normal last night, I stopped at Bearno's for a Newcastle. The keg blew, but the dude did manage to get most of a glass poured (11638).

Then I came home.

My cat Happy is very sick. He's going to the vet this morning, and I fear that I won't be bringing him home. I guess I'll know more by 11:00 or so.

I had a couple bottles of Newcastle (11662) last night while I tried to comfort Happy.

Well I ended up not taking a trip yesterday. The same lack of motivation I'd had about writing kept me from making up my mind about going anywhere until it was too late. So I just dicked around the house for the most part.

Then last night I got to do some stuff I can't write about, I guess except that I had a Marzen (6152) and three bottles of Barfly (128). And I think I did a pretty good job of keeping my thoughts where they belonged.

Today we might do something. Or we might not. It's kinda hard stupid to plan anything more than about five minutes ahead of time. As proof of that statement, I offer yesterday, and next weekend, and probably Thanksgiving. But it's okay. Spontaneity has its charms sometimes, and being penciled in is better than nothing.

A pen would be nice, though, every now and then. It would be nice to be worthy of a pen. The dipshit gets a fucking pen.

I'm supposed to write in this thing. That's pretty much what it's here for. Some days it's really hard to get motivated, though. That's what today is. I just don't feel like writing. Because of that, this is going to suck.

My life is a fucking lie. A play in which I'm forced to perform, and they forgot to give me my lines.

Lunch at this weird Lynn's Paradise Cafe place was nice. A little strained, I thought, but that's to be expected, what with everything going on and what with me being in this damn mood that I can't shake.

After work I tried to take a nap. It didn't take. I think I'm overly tired. Two or three hours of sleep per night for a week will do that to a person.

So then I went to Rich O's. I'd thought it might be a short visit, because sometimes I forget that hope is stupid and that I should stop having it. I ended up sitting at the kiddie table for four hours talking to OtherDave for a while, and ActualGeorge for a while longer. I tried to talk HatGirl into coming, but she was busy or sick of me or something.

I had a couple glasses of Schlenkerla Marzen (6135), which were quite good. I had a drawn-out email conversation, and that did help to make me feel a little better.

I stopped at White Castle on the way home. My jalapeno cheeseburgers were very yummy.

Oh yeah, remember how I found out yesterday that MixedSignalGirl wasn't dead? Well, last night I found out that NotHideousGirl wasn't dead, either, because she came in to Rich O's. So that was nice. And I got a couple of text messages from SassyGirl, and she wasn't dead either. I miss SassyGirl. I think I miss just about everyone. My own damn fault. I've almost totally isolated myself.

I want to take a trip today. I need to get away. But I probably won't.

The rest of Wednesday consisted of spending all afternoon in one of the saddest moods I've had in months, then spending the evening pretending that everything was fine. Until, eventually, thanks to a little kid mostly, everything was fine. What a delightful child. His mommy is kinda neat, too, for a jailer.

But eventually, the cage walls started closing in on me again, and I made a graceful escape. One made a bit less graceful because of my Blackberry. Upon leaving, I sent an email saying that I'd had an overwhelming urge to give her a foot massage. But my Blackberry, in a fit of stupididy, had interpreted my typing of the letters f-o-o-t as d-o-o-r instead.

Now, I don't really know what a door massage is. Sounds pretty kinky. But I bet I'd give a good one, and make her forget all about the dipshit.

On the way home, I stopped at Rich O's and had myself another Marzen (6101) and ordered a pizza to-go.

And another thing is that I don't care about this blog anymore. Not at the moment, anyway - my interest might eventually resurface. So the only reason I'm writing here now is so people don't think I'm dead. Like my sister today asked me if I was okay, because I'm not writing here anymore.

Today I drove to Covington, KY. Once I got here, I glared at my phone, and I had some Moerlein OTRs (360). Now I'm going to bed.

Oh yeah, I got a nice email from HatGirl.

As I'm clearly unfit for the world, and as the world is clearly unfit for me, tonight I'm just going to stay home and drink some fucking pumpkin beer. I was saving this, but oh well.

Jack's Pumpkin Spice Ale

(bottle) Clear medium amber in color. Small head. Aroma of pumpkin and spices. The flavor was more spicy and metallic than I was expecting. There was also some hop bitterness that I didn't care for at all. Decent is all I can say.

---

I used to think that I knew how this would end. Not that it would end, I'm not quite that much of a pessimist. Yet. But if it ended, I thought I knew how and why. I was so sure. It was going to be all my fault, but I wouldn't be the one to end it.

Schlafly's Pumpkin Ale

(bottle) Clear copper in color. Small head that dissipated almost immediately. A very nice aroma of cinnamon and other spices. Medium mouthfeel. Very good flavor of all sorts of spices and, of course, pumpkin. The 8% ABV is hidden very well. A very good beer.

---

Lately, though, I haven't been so sure. Maybe it won't be her. Maybe it'll be me who recognizes and does what needs to be done. Walks away. I hope not. There's nowhere to go.

Post Road Pumpkin Ale

(bottle) Slightly hazy amber. Smallish head. Aroma of pumpkin and spices. Thin mouthfeel, but the flavor is very good. There's a bit of a bite - not bitter - that is a pleasant surprise. Very good.

So many people advised me to lie to her. To keep living my lie of omission. "Don't tell her everything," they said. "Just be happy with what you have," they said. "Don't rock the boat," they said.

But the damn boat was already sinking. So I sounded the alarm. I stopped lying.

And then, yesterday, she said that nobody ever says what's on their mind, except for me. I took that as a compliment.

---

She keeps using the f-word to describe what we're doing. But I don't think of it that way at all. It's not a friendship, at least not from my perspective.

Nope, from where I sit, it's a one-sided love affair.

A million times better than a friendship, and a million times worse.

---

Considering how I started missing her before I'd made it halfway out of her parking lot last night, of course I wanted to go back later and see her some more. But, considering how I actually started missing her before I'd gone three steps out of her door, I didn't think it would be a good idea.

---

Yesterday the only beer I had was about half a Schlenkerla Marzen (6016) at 1:00 or so. I have some pumpkin beers in my fridge, but I'm saving those for something.

---

This was funny in real life. Not mean at all.

So she asked me if I was mad. I'm not mad, I'm retarded. Big Difference.

And then, I went to lunch at The Pub - Newcastle (11498) - and surprise! It was a bonus AlliDay!

And then, desperately craving interaction with a girl who doesn't make me crazy(er), I arranged to have lunch with HatGirl this Friday. That should be very nice, as it's been a long time since it's just been just me and HatGirl. What with the whole her-getting-married and stuff.

Also, I can't follow my own fucking advice, so why should it bother me that nobody else follows it? I'll tell you why. Because I don't have a choice in the matter.

I've got all this damn pumpkin beer in my fridge, and now I don't know what's going to happen with it. Worst case would be that I'll drink it, I suppose. By myself. Like a chump.

Also, I think I'd be pretty pissed if I were a pigeon. I mean, being able to fly would be cool. But the rat with wings nickname would get old very quickly, and I'd really be pissed off about not being able to take a step without my head jerking back and forth like I was having a seizure or something.

Also, I really and truly don't think there's any cruelty behind any of this. I don't think my strings are being yanked just to watch me dance. Unfortunately for me, the results are exactly the same no matter what the intentions might be. I end up looking like a jackass, and everyone gets a good laugh out of it. Everybody except me, that is.

I need a nap.

And a vacation. Mustn't forget that.

I didn't really get much accomplished yesterday. I went to Home Depot to get some lumber for my swing but, while I was there, I kinda lost all motivation for everything. So I just came back home and shot pool for a while.

Then at 3:00 I went to Bearno's for something to eat and a couple glasses of Newcastle (11456). For a while, I was the only customer in the entire place. That was perfectly fine with me.

Traded a few emails with her, and that put me back into a good mood until the subject changed. Then my mood deteriorated very quickly. I said some things that were unwelcome, I'm sure. But, like I keep telling myself, if I'm going to ruin this, as least it will be with the truth. Sometimes I wonder if the two of us are strong enough to hold something this lopsided together. Or if she thinks that it's worth the effort.

Later I went and picked up this Blue Moon Pumpkin Ale (24), which was new for me.

Blue Moon Harvest Moon Pumpkin Ale

(bottle) Clear light amber. Large whitish head. Not much of an aroma or flavor with this one. Everything was very subtle - too subtle. I don't think I'll bother with this again. Decent is all I can say.

Anyway, other than having a couple bottles of that beer, and watching some movies, I had a nice phone call that I don't think I want to write about here. I went to bed fairly early and slept for 10 hours.

Today is HatGirl's wedding reception. As was expected, I will be going alone. But it should still be fun to see HatGirl in her wedding dress. I hope she remembers that she was supposed to learn how to dance, so she can give me a quick lesson before I dance with her for real.

I suppose that a brief beer report is in order. I did, after all, go to Rich O's last night. I bet I could count on one hand the number of times I've been in there, on a weekend night, in the last three months.

Anyway, I wasn't planning to go, but my sister called to say that she and her husband were there. So I went.

It was extremely crowded and LOUD. I ended up standing by the bar, talking yelling with Dina and Kenny. I had two and a half glasses of Marzen (5902). By the time Dina and Kenny left, my mood was shot to shit. I tried to hang out for a little bit longer, but there was no sense in it. I came home around 10:00.

---

Last week I was going to buy some wood to start repairs on my swing. But while I was cutting some rope, I ended up slicing my finger instead. Today, my plan is to go and finally buy that wood. I'll probably manage to amputate my leg somehow.

I guess today kind of sucked. I don't think it was really a bad day, but compared to Thursday, it sucked. As would most days, compared to Thursday.

This chick who looks disconcertingly like MixedSignalGirl was working at The Pub, after having been fired for the last month or so. Plus, she insisted on talking to me the entire time I was there trying to enjoy my Newcastle (11280). So I was in a pretty shitty mood from about 12:00 on, then after work I had a couple of weird dreams. One was a sad dream, and another was very frustrating and confusing. So I woke up from my nap in a even worse mood than before.

For a while, there seemed to be a .0000000001% chance that my day might end really well, but instead I sat here at home, had a Rogue Chocolate Stout (2669) and a Barley Island Dirty Helen (436), glared at my phone, and wished for about the asstillionth time that things were different.

Also, it turns out that I don't need to feed HatGirl's critters on Sunday, as had been planned. That's the good news, I think. The bad news, I think, is that I need to go to the airport at 11:50 Saturday night to pick her and LuckyFucker up.

It will be really nice to see HatGirl again, but my grand plans for drinking beer and glaring my phone tomorrow night are shot to shit.

I'm not sure I should say anything about lunch. I guess I'll say that I had some yummy Thai chili linguini, and I sneaked a couple won-tons. Oh, and I had a Newcastle (11240).

Later in the afternoon I had a stupid meeting that ended up being not stupid, because I was the only person who showed up. So, that was nice.

I'd driven in to work on fumes, and so I had to stop and get gas on the way from work to HatGirl's house. I got $20 worth of gas, got back into my truck, and turned the key. Imagine my surprise when, as a result of my turning the key, absolutely nothing happened.

I was in a pretty bad part of Louisville, I think. So I was quite relieved and a little surprised when this one lady gave me a jump-start instead of murdering me for drug money.

At HatGirl's, I left my truck running while I fed the critters. Still haven't seen that damn kitty.

Then on the way to Rich O's I stopped and paid $150 for a new battery. For that price I assumed that my truck would be capable of flight, but nope, it's still ground-bound. Oh well.

At Rich O's, I had a couple glasses of yummy Rogue Chocolate Stout (2647). I was going to have just the one and then go home with my pizza, but NotHideousGirl and OddlyFamiliarGirl came in. And this time they didn't totally ignore me, so yay!

Once I got home, I took a nap. Then when I got up I nuked a couple hot dogs. Because I'm stupid and completely forgot about the pizza in my fridge.

And now I'm having a Three Floyds Gumballhead (263). I tried to sit out in my garage with my beer, but it's too freaking cold.

Today was the fifth day in a row that I've gone to HatGirl's house to take care of her critters, but I still haven't seen the kitty even once. I do, however, know that the kitty is still alive because I set treats out each day and the next day they're gone.

---

I get so sick and tired of people trivializing my problems and expecting me to act normal all the time. I do good to get out of bed in the mornings. Anything more than that is a bonus.

---

Tonight I had a nice long talk with my dad's ghost. It took some doing, and a couple bottles of Three Floyd's Gumballhead (215), to conjure him up, but I eventually succeeded.

It was a really nice conversation.

---

Every now and then I'll be driving - it's usually in Louisville - and I'll see some random young man walking down the sidewalk, using one hand to keep his super-loose pants from falling down.

I always wonder what kind of a terrible life that must be, the constant pressure that must involve.

Stretching an analogy almost to its breaking-point, I kinda do the same thing as those random young men.

Except that it's not modesty that I'm trying to preserve. Nope, it's my sanity.

I walk through life desperately clutching to pieces of myself that threaten to fall to the ground.

And shatter.

The shattering part is where the pants analogy breaks down. Because pants don't shatter, unless they haven't been washed in a zillion years, and that's an entirely different problem.

---

You know what's really nice to hear from the love of your life?

"Well, I wouldn't say you were the worst person ever."

That's what's nice to hear. Hope springs eternal, and all that.

---

Also, people who don't like the way I am should stop trying to guilt me into being something else. It won't work.

Empathy does not require understanding or agreement. Those are common misconceptions, but those things really are irrelevant to empathy.

Empathy can stand on its own and do just fine.

---

For those keeping score at home, I still haven't renewed any of my vehicle registrations. They were already closed on Saturday when I got there. They were closed today, and they'll be closed tomorrow. So I get to drive around illegally until Tuesday.

Fun!

---

That's it for now. I need to go out to my garage and glare at my phone for a while.

I think all I want to say about tonight is that I was held captive by two hot young women, and that I had fun.

---

Oh shit! I totally forgot to renew any of my vehicle registrations. All three expired the 15th of September. I'll have to see about at least renewing the registration on my truck tomorrow, if I have time.

---

I think what's happened is that I've crossed some kind of sleep-deprivation wall. Kind of like marathon runners will reach a certain point and then running is supposed to become effortless. Well I should be very tired right now, but I'm not at all.

---

My brain is really rambling. You readers are lucky that so little of the rambling is making it to my fingers.

---

I want to go to Antarctica, and I don't want to take myself with me. I don't know how to do that. Or, maybe, I want to go to Antarctica with myself, but then return without myself. I don't know how to do that either. Either way, though, I want to go to Antarctica.

---

Another thing about tonight is that I had a Shiner Bock (17) and a Barley Island Barfly (56). Or maybe that's two other things about tonight.

---

Sometimes a helping hand is exactly that, and nothing more. Sneering at it will only lessen the probability of it ever being offered again.

---

If I had any sense at all, I'd do something. What, exactly, I don't know. Because I don't have any sense at all.

---

I suppose I should go stare at my bedroom ceiling for a few hours. Goodnight, world.

I got a very nice surprise today.

An unscheduled AlliDay!

I don't think I'd seen AlliGirl in over a month, and even then she'd been too busy to really talk. But today, I walked into the pub, expecting to see the same boring Wednesday people that I've been seeing for months, and instead I saw some legs. And a shock of blonde hair peeking from under a baseball cap. And, once I got close enough for her to recognize me, a mischievous grin.

AlliGirl!

And, it wasn't too busy in there today, so after the mandatory hug we got to talk for quite a bit and do some catching up.

It was really nice to see her!

Oh, yeah, I had a Newcastle (11106) for lunch.

Then, back to work.

Then, I went over to HatGirl's house to feed her cat and dogs and LuckyFucker's fish. Because they're gone. Getting married. Fucking surreal.

Anyway, HatGirl had assured me that her one asshole dog wasn't an asshole anymore. I'm not saying that she lied to me, but she was definitely mistaken. That damn dog refused to let me pay any attention whatsoever to the other dogs. It's exactly the same as it was a year ago.

And I didn't get to see the kitty at all. It was hiding from me because it doesn't know that I'm a cat person.

Then I went to Rich O's and had an Upland Wheat (231), then I came home.

Now I want to go outside and drink a Marzen but it's too damn cold. I kinda want to take a little space heater out there with me, but I'm afraid that might seem pathetic.

Maybe I'll just drink a damn beer in my living room like a regular person.

A long time ago, before I was even born if you can believe that, I guess a bunch of people wore buttons saying "I like Ike."

You know, because of Eisenhower or however it's spelled.

Well, I think I'd like to introduce a new button. Mine will say "Ike can suck my hairy ass."

You know, because of the hurricane.

For those just tuning in, I live in Southern Indiana. Tornado country. Maybe earthquake country. But not fucking hurricane country.

Well, somebody must have missed a memo or something. That damn hurricane Ike refused to die after wreaking havoc down South where it belonged. Nope, it continued Northeasterly with its hurricane-force winds, and wreaked havoc upon the Louisville area too. Upon my area.

Everybody is affected. Some in worse ways than others. I, for example, have not had power since noon on Sunday (UPDATE: Power came back at 8:30 PM Tuesday). I lost some big-ass branches, and a couple of big trees either fell or split in half. There are millions of twigs and leaves littering my lawn, and some in my living room that are really perplexing me.

But all of that I can deal with. The thing I may not be able to deal with is this:

That, readers, is my swing. Or the pile of rubble formerly known as my swing. Fucking Ike took it out completely. Ripped it right out of the ground.

I'm sad about this. Much sadder, I'm sure, than I should be. "It was just a swing, after all," people will say.

But, to me, it was really much more than that. To me, standing there Sunday afternoon, it was almost like I'd lost a friend.

I couldn't help but think of the dozens of times I'd sat on that swing with MixedSignalGirl, or the millions of times I'd sat there without LaptopGirl, or all of the other times when I'd just go out there to relax and not think about anything for a while.

It just makes me sad that it's gone.

Let me put it this way: If Ike had destroyed my house, and my detached garage, and my swing - I'd replace my swing first and then worry about the trivial structures.

---

I wrote the above, in my little notebook, while sitting in that same coffee shop, next to that same lovely companion. Trying to feed off her creativity, I suppose, and not really succeeding. I was distracted, after all.

Now I'm across the street at Bearno's. Drinking a Goose Island Honker's Ale (132), scribbling in this notebook, and watching my phone. There's a chance that I might hear from her again tonight. There's a smaller chance that I might get to see her again tonight. So I'm waiting.

There's no sense in going home. No power there, and not even a single bar of reception on my Blackberry - just "SOS."

And, of course, she's not there either. So, I'll wait for a while. She's worth it.

That's what it says right on every bottle of Stone Arrogant Bastard: You're not worthy

Pretty clever thing, if you ask me. Take a playful jab at your potential customers. Challenge them, dare them to try to drink you.

Anyway, I'm not worthy, apparently.

I bought two 22 oz. bottles of the stuff last night. My plan had been to (a) sit on my swing, (b) glare at my phone, and (c) get as plastered as a lightweight like me can get.

What actually happened, though, was that I had one bottle of the stuff (88), then about four ounces of the second bottle (92) and that was it. I didn't get plastered. Not on 26 ounces of 7.2% beer. But I did get a little queasy in my stomach. That's when I realized that I hadn't eaten a single speck of food all day. Nothing since 6:30 Friday night, actually, when I'd had a little pizza at Rich O's.

So the final part of my grand plan was amended to (c) drink some water.

I'm worthy of water, in case you doubted that.

I think that, today, I'm going to shut my cat Buddy in the basement when I get home. That way, he won't be able to fight with Nugget, and that way, I'll be able to take an actual nap.

I can't remember ever being this tired, except maybe the first time we all went to Philadelphia for work, a few years ago.

And, speaking of Philadelphia, we're all supposed to go back there in January. Oh boy! Philadelphia in January!

I'm pushing to just have us do the work from here. There's no reason that any of have to actually be in Philadelphia. But I push for this every year, and it never does any good. We always have to go.

Anyway, today I had a nice lunch with her at Hard Rock. With my potato skins, I had a Blue Moon (883) that was pretty damn tasty. My company was lovely as always.

I seem to have lost the ability to tell when someone is kidding. Or maybe I never really had that ability. This was the second day in a row that she totally fooled me with her kidding. My working theory about this is that, because I always expect the absolute worst, that's why I take this kidding seriously.

What might be an interesting experiment would be to be kidded about something good. But then I'd have to face the disappointment when the farce was revealed. And I'm pretty sure that my disappointment quota for this century is already used up.

I guess there's no way to win unless I turn into an optimist so I can recognize kidding. Not much chance of that happening.

I'm rambling because I'm tired.

Beforehand, I drove.

Specifically, I drove to Indianapolis. See, there's this guitar doohickey that I want. MusicalYuppieDude has been telling me for months that he'll give me one for free, but it's never happened. So I found one on the internet. And today I drove to the closest store that carries them.

Well, I drove to Indianapolis to buy the doohickey, and the stupid store is closed on Sunday. So, I drove back home.

---

Afterwards, I drank a little.

After dinner, I went to the bar at Sam's. I talked briefly with MusicalYuppieDude (should have told him about my trip to Indy) and PhotoDude, then they left and I sat at the bar and had a Blue Moon (817).

Next, I went to Sluttopia and had a Newcastle (10676) before coming home.

---

The beforehand and the afterwards weren't as much fun as the during.

After I went back to Polly's to get Happy his milkshake, I took a fairly long nap. See, there was a .000427% chance that I'd get to do something fun later, and I wanted to be refreshed.

Then at 7:30 or so I went to Rich O's.

It was pretty crowded, mostly with strangers. I ordered a Marzen (5133) and stood at the end of the bar for a while. TremensGirl was there, in an actual dress. That's why I didn't recognize her at first. Also, StoreGirl and her husband NotBill were there. I hadn't seen them in a very long time.

After a while some dorks left the bar so I went and sat there. I had a little pizza. TremensGirl offered me the throne but I declined. There's a limit to my sociability, and there was this one dipshit on the sofa who is way beyond that limit.

Anyway, these two drunk old women came in and sat at the kiddie table. I'd guess they were between 50 and 150 years old. Hard to tell as they were both made up like prostitutes. As luck would have it, they both immediately started trying to engage me in conversation, so I picked up my shit and moved to the recently-vacated island.

What happened next was that StoreGirl and NotBill came over and joined me, and for some reason they invited the old women over as well.

Grrrr.

So our new "friends" managed to slur out that they'd both just gotten divorced, and that they were looking for a good time. I shivered for about 10 minutes and then managed to shoot off a couple of flares in the form of emails begging for rescue.

No rescue ever came, and I was getting pretty sick of being leaned on and having my arm touched. I was just about to get rude and pick up my shit and move back to the bar, but instead NotBill had a great idea. He and I started telling the old women about all the other great bars around. I think they ended up going to Sluttopia.

Oh yeah, at about the time I ordered my second Marzen (5150) my hot girl sensors overloaded. I looked at the door, and it was ImprobablyHotMarriedGirl! I bounced over and gave her a hug, and looked for the other half of TeamHotness, UnbearablyHotSingleGirl. But she was nowhere to be seen. I hope they're not fighting.

It was still very cool though. I hadn't seen ImprobablyHotMarriedGirl in months. Unfortunately, they had too many people in their party to be able to join StoreGirl and NotBill and me at the island, so they went out front somewhere.

I came home at 10:00, because I'd stopped drinking after that second Marzen. There was still a .000016% chance that I'd get to do something fun later, after all.

Well, that slim chance eventually dwindled to nothing, but I got to have a little emailathon, and that was very nice.

At the end of the night I had another Marzen (5167) out on my swing and I thought happy thoughts.

First, there was a surprise lunch invitation. I'll admit it freely - I was very excited about it. I mean, two days in a row!?! I was truly blessed. Or I would have been truly blessed if those lunch plans hadn't fallen apart as quickly as they had formed.

Second, there was dinner with BadPickleGirl. I really had a feeling that she was going to flake on me. We seemed to be making it much harder than it should have been. Well, sure enough, she cancelled at the last minute.

Third, I figured that I'd at least go over to Louisville, see AlliGirl, and check out CoolHairGirl's purple hair.

But noooooooooooooooooo!

They were having some stupid thing in Louisville, and they were charging a cover just to walk down the stupid street.

So, foiled not once, not twice, but thrice, I ended up just coming home. I ate some pizza. I watched Borat. I sat on my swing. I had a Newcastle (10648) and two Marzens (5116). I glared at my phone a lot.

All in all, It was still better than having my legs knocked out from under me and then being repeatedly kicked in the gut.

Anyway, here's a picture I took while peeing at Sam's this afternoon:

The part about .40¢ wings and .99¢ drafts and nachos and mini-cheeseburgers, that's one of my pet peeves. If you don't know why, then I probably think you're an idiot, just like I think the person who made this sign is an idiot.

But at least they've brought back mini football helemets. Good for them.

Last night I wore a t-shirt that said I'm blogging this across the front. So, rather than be labeled a liar, I'll go ahead and actually write something.

Let's start with Wednesday, I suppose. There wasn't much to Wednesday. I went to Rich O's. At night. So that was something.

Let's see, I sat at the island and talked with some people. I don't remember who. Oh yeah, MusicalYuppieDude was one of them. I remember because he said there was a crazy guy over at the bar. I looked, but I didn't see him do anything crazy. Maybe he got his prescription refilled or something. Oh, and ExBartender was there too.

I had myself a yummy Schlenkerla Marzen (5047). I sent a million email messages. But mostly I watched the door, more out of habit than because of any actual anticipation.

The place was pretty dead, and they kicked everyone out early, so I came home.

Then yesterday I had a nice day, and it gave me enough confidence to go back to Rich O's last night. Wow, two nights in a row. One might almost think that I'm hanging out at Rich O's again. One would be wrong, but it would be an understandable mistake.

Last night, there was some big change... hope... zombie party going on in the special people section. I didn't go in there. In Rich O's proper, the fucking Thursday weirdoes were in full force. I sat at the island and had a little pizza and a Marzen (5064). Spent most of the time talking to PornAddict and SmooshDude.

And for some reason they kept playing techno music all night. That was messed up.

I was really bored, but I stayed for another Marzen (5081) because I wanted to see what LaptopGirl had done to her hair. I thought it looked really pretty, but of course I'm biased.

Then all the change... hope... zombies left the special people section and came into Rich O's proper looking for brains to eat, and I came home. I sat on my swing and had a Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier (2636) and it was yummy.

Pretty damn exciting, I know. I've got a five-day weekend and I spend the first two nights sitting bored at Rich O's. Maybe tonight will be more interesting. I'm supposed to go hang out with BadPickleGirl for a while, and maybe go see CoolHairGirl's new purple hair.

Then tomorrow I get to have lunch with HatGirl. I'm obviously very excited about that.

Maybe I'll go out of town tomorrow after lunch. Or maybe not.

The first part of Friday night I spent like the last parts of most nights. Sitting out on my swing drinking a beer. A Newcastle (10560) in that particular case. BadPickleGirl and I had agreed to "ponder" hanging out for a while, so I called her, left a voicemail, then glared at my phone for a while. But after an hour or so of that, I got bored and went to Louisville to see AlliGirl.

At The Pub, it wasn't nearly as crowded as I'd been expecting. I sat at the bar and had a Newcastle (10580) and talked to AlliGirl when she wasn't too busy. It was nice to see AlliGirl. It had been weeks.

Then I went over to Hard Rock and, lo and behold, CoolHairGirl was working! That was a very nice surprise. Pretty much the opposite of a nice surprise was that somebody had ralphed all over one of the urinals there. Quite disgusting.

I sat at Hard Rock for an hour or so, drinking a Blue Moon (777) and talking to CoolHairGirl. Hard Rock was incredibly dead. It was me at the bar and like three or four other people scattered amongst the tables.

Oh yeah, at one point when I was out in the street I looked to my left and saw my niece and some of her friends. That was quite cool.

Anyway, I started to feel a little guilty at Hard Rock because CoolHairGirl started cleaning everything in anticipation of closing early. Plus I guess I got a little depressed about the same old stuff that I always get depressed about, so I left Louisville and headed for home.

While I was driving home, I got a text from BadPickleGirl, so I called her and we bullshitted over the phone until I pulled into my garage. So that was nice.

Then I sat on my swing and had most of a bottle of Marzen (4901). Sent an email to her, got no response, got depressed about it, then went to bed at 11:30 or so.

So most of my plans fell way short of fruition.

I didn't take my cousin his memorial shirt.

I didn't stop at HH Gregg to inquire about a TV repairman.

And I didn't even get to pretend-marry HatGirl and LuckyFucker as the latter, I believe, chose this opportunity to pretend to have cold feet. Maybe next week, I'm told.

But the most important thing, I did get done. I got LaptopGirl's memorial t-shirt from my sister, and then I delivered it.

Any day wherein I get to see LaptopGirl is a damn good day as far as I'm concerned. Even though her son was eating pretzels and it made me really crave pretzels.

Oh yeah, another thing I didn't do was have dinner at the place where NotHideousGirl works. Nor did I, as I'd halfway planned later in the afternoon, make it to where AlliGirl works. Instead, I went to this Sam's place that I'd never been to before.

While there, I had a couple glasses of heterosexual Blue Moon (761) and some blackened steak tip thingies that were surprisingly good.

On the way home I bought a bag of pretzels. They were yummy.

Never did hear back from AlliGirl about her birthday party. I guess I'd be annoyed by that if I didn't already have a gazillion other things on my mind.

I spent Saturday night as I'd spent Friday night, at home on my swing. I did make one brief trip down to see what all the damn sirens were for. There were sirens wailing nonstop for at least an hour. I went down and asked this girl at the gas station what had been going on. She said she saw a million fire trucks go by. It must have been a pretty big fire, to need a million fire trucks.

All of the local dogs were still howling when I went to bed at 12:00 or so

Let's see, I had my last two bottles of Moerlein OTR (262), even the bottle I'd been saving for MrPopular - it just jumped down my throat before I could stop it. Not that I really wanted to stop it. And so now I'll definitely have to go back to Covington. I should have gone yesterday. I can't go this coming weekend because I'm on-call for work.

I had a couple Newcastles (10444). I drunk-texted BadPickleGirl and she actually responded for once. I had a few email conversations. In one, I got accused of what I think is a class III misdemeanor, and that conversation was the highlight of my week.

I got to go to sleep in a good mood. It's been a while since that happened.

---

Today it seems like I've got a million things to do, but I can't think of what they all are.

I know that I'm going to dinner, probably where NotHideousGirl works. I think that, either right before or right after dinner, I'm pretending to marry HatGirl and LuckyFucker. I should probably call HatGirl to make sure we're still on for that.

Hmmm, I know that I've got to get LaptopGirl's memorial shirt from my sister.

Oh yeah, I've also got to take my cousin Jeff his memorial shirt.

I guess I should stop at the place where I bought my TV and see about getting a repairman out to look at it. I'm afraid that it's going to cost a million dollars, but it's got to be done. Can't really have a 65" TV that doesn't work, can I?

Last night I didn't do much of anything. Sat on my swing and traded some emails back and forth for a while, but then they stopped. I had a bottle of Stone Smoked Porter (542) and then a bottle of Moerlein OTR (238).

I'm almost out of the OTR, and I'd thought about going back to Covington today and picking up a case or so while I'm there. But I probably won't go, there's no point. And besides, AlliGirl's traveling birthday party is tonight, I think. So perhaps I'll head over to Louisville and try to run into her.

Or maybe I'll just stay home again.

Weeks.

That was the prediction I made, weeks ago. Now I'm starting to suspect that my prediction was just incredibly optimistic. Weird, for me to be too optimistic, I think.

I thought of this awesome thing to write, but then I remembered that people read what I write. So, I might still write it, but not here.

---

I also thought of something awesome to say on my death bed. And of course I can't write that because I'm saving it for when I'm actually on my death bed.

Like in 500 years or so.

---

I'm counting on medical technology to irrelify all of my current stupidity.

It could happen.

---

I made that word up. I like it, though.

---

Did I ever mention that I like hot girls?

Well, I do.

---

I still haven't had any of the 08.08.08 beer. Because I might be able to talk BadPickleGirl into trying it with me. Tonight, I had myself some yummy Moerlein OTR (216).

---

Speaking of OTR, I need to remember to take a bottle to work, so that later I can drop it off for MrPopular.

---

Speaking of BadPickleGirl, she just complained about getting just one MySpace message, from me, in a week. I myself usually only get messages from Jack Shit.

She got a message from me, I get messages from Jack Shit.

She wins, hands down.

---

Because, no matter what certain people might think, I'm much better than Jack Shit.

---

Damn, it's only 11:04, and I'm out of material.

The Cock & Bull was even more crowded that it had been earlier. I remembered that I'd never been in the place on a weekend, and I began to fear that they might have a stupid live band. That would have sucked.

I sat at the bar, ordered a bottle of OTR (72), and was almost immediately molested by some girl sitting next to me. I have never been pawed like that in my life - at least not while remaining fully-clothed. So, that was weird.

The emails and the text messages and the phone calls continued, and I continued to be amazed that my battery was lasting as well as it was. I guess I ended up spending about 1/2 of my time inside sitting at the bar getting molested, and the rest of the time I was outside talking on the phone.

WeirdGirl called just to say she misses me. Awww.

Here's a bit of advice to you women out there. If you ever find yourself needing to break through any resistance I might have, just lick my ear. Works every time.

Anyway, I ended up having three more OTRs (108). The bartender who looks like AlliGirl told me that they sometimes get OTR on tap. So I gave her my number so she could call me the next time that happens. I will definitely make the drive up there again.

I also had a glass of yummy Delirium Tremens (1404) so I could raise a toast to a friend of mine who's having a tough time these days.

At midnight or so, I somehow found some vestige of resolve, and I left GropingGirl with her friends. I walked down to the conveniently located White Castle, had some cheeseburgers, then went back to the hotel.

Then Sunday morning I drove home. It was nice to get away, if only for one night.

The Cock & Bull was pretty crowded. Much more than it had been in April. I guess warm weather will do that to bars. Except Rich O's, for some reason.

My plan had been to just sit at the bar and drown my sorrows all night. I got a decent start, with a couple bottles of yummy Moerlein OTR (60), but by the time those were gone it was only 6:00 or so, and I recognized that I should probably go to some other places.

The first other place I went to was the Hofbrauhaus. I was there for about 1.7 seconds. There was extremely LOUD POLKA MUSIC and there was also not a single empty seat in the house - not even at the bar.

So I walked down the hill, and over the floodwall, to the Beer Sellar barge. While I was walking there, the stupid Sun came out from the clouds, and the weather went from very pleasant to unbearably fucking hot and humid. Plus, the stupid Beer Sellar didn't seem to have any air conditioning. Just a big fan that did nothing but stir the humid air around, so it felt like I was going swimming.

I was sweating like the proverbial whore in church.

I had myself a Paulaner Hefeweissbier (567) and then some Diet Cokes while I tried to acclimate myself to the humidity. Seriously, the place made me long for the old days I spent in New Orleans. This place was New Orleans with twice the humidity but thankfully none of the smell.

After my third Diet Coke or so, I realized that it was stupid to be there, so I drove back to the hotel, and then I walked back to the Cock & Bull.

My phone keeps ringing. I'll finish this later.

A few minutes later I was feeling a zillion times better.

I was sitting in LaptopGirl's dining room (see the comic two entries ago), drinking a skunked beer, and finally getting to see LaptopGirl. It had been one day short of five weeks since I'd last seen her, a time period also known as an asstillion lifetimes.

I will concede that it should have been stressful for me. But, compared to the discussions going on at Rich O's, it wasn't stressful at all. Plus it was just a huge relief to get to see LaptopGirl again. It was all so non-stressful, in fact, that I nearly fell asleep.

The skunked beer I had? It was a new beer for me.

Molson Golden

(bottle) Clear fizzy yellow. Thin head that hung in there pretty well. The aroma was of armpits and feet - it was skunked. Mouthfeel was thin. No flavor to speak of, though there was a hoppy sharpness when it first entered the mouth. No detectable finish except a coating skunkiness. I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy.

BigWheelGirl was there also, and she and LaptopGirl and I hung out and talked for a couple of hours. At one point LaptopGirl wanted to go to Rich O's. BigWheelGirl didn't want to go, and I already had everything I needed right there, so we didn't go.

At one point I went out to my car and got a bottle of good beer. LaptopGirl and I split a bottle of Schlenkerla Marzen (4697), and I think BigWheelGirl had water or something.

Once LaptopGirl's son (LaptopSon?) woke up crying, I was ushered out pretty quickly, so I came home. I sat on my swing and had another bottle of Marzen (4714) and thought about good things.

Then I remembered that I hadn't eaten anything all day so I went to Taco Bell.

The stress level started rising as soon as I left my house. And it grew and it grew and it grew until I left Rich O's.

It was still too soon. It was still too much. I'd thought it I might be okay with being there at night, but I was wrong.

Anyway, I got there at 8:30 or so. It wasn't too crowded, though what crowd there was had occupied those places where I'd wanted to sit. Places where I could eat and maybe be ignored for a while. I didn't want to get into any conversations. I certainly didn't want any damn encouraging words. I just wanted to wait for LaptopGirl. She being the entire reason I was risking my sanity by being there in the first place.

What I ended up doing was sitting on the sofa for a bit. I said hello to TremensGirl and MusicalYuppieDude. At about the time I ordered an NABC Flat Tyre (1029), this one dork left the bar so I moved up there and ordered a little pizza. But then this other dork left the sofa so I moved back there. I'd decided that having my back to the entrance probably wasn't the most brilliant thing for me to do.

Then the subject started being discussed by those around me, and I felt myself starting to freak out.

Then LaptopGirl emailed me that she wasn't coming to Rich O's after all. So I paid my tab and left, donating my little pizza to whoever might want it.

In retrospect, it was still too much too soon. But I went to Rich O's after work. My excuse was that it was pizza night, and I'd skipped last Monday, so if I didn't have pizza tonight, I might die or something.

Contrary to popular belief, I don't particularly want to die right now.

Also, is pizza-withdrawal a real affliction?

Anyway, there's some new dork working there. I never saw him before in my life, and when I sat in the throne, he came up and asked me if I wanted a beer.

My first inclination was to say, "No thanks. I'm flattered, but I'm straight."

But then I saw that he was carrying an official Rich O's notepad, so I went ahead and ordered an NABC Jasmine (110).

Then people left me alone for the most part, except this one dude who asked me some stupid question that didn't really need an answer.

Then MisunderstoodGirl sat and talked to me for a while about irrelevant things, and that was cool because I was really freaking out that people would want to get relevant on me.

Then ArtGirl came in and I got to talk to her for the next hour or so. We played musical chairs. It was fun.

Then I had another Jasmine (120) even though it was getting pretty late and therefore scary for me to be there.

Then TremensGirl came in and said more words to me in five minutes than she's said to me in the previous four months. So that was nice.

Then I found myself rambling on and on to MusicalYuppieDude about relevant things, so I knew it was time for me to leave. Luckily, my pizza was ready by then, so I came home.

Too soon. I knew that going in, but I still went. That place has a very annoying pull on me sometimes.

I'll admit, there was some juggling that took place to make LaptopGirl's recommendation come out as my 500th beer rating.

See, there was a chance that we were going to rate it together. But those opportunities kept slipping by. Eventually, I think, we each realized that she has more important things to worry about than my stupid beer ratings.

But the nice thing is that there's plenty of swill in the world, so there will be other opportunities for a joint-rating.

Anyway, here are the last four official beer ratings, beginning with my swill consultant's official recommendation for my 500th rating:

Sapporo Premium

(can) Looks like fizzy urine. Decent white head that seemed to last. Aroma of wet grass - slightly rotten. Thin mouthfeel. Flavor is smooth and a little creamy. Just the slightest hoppy finish. A typical pale lager, neither better nor worse than the rest. Typical lager swill.

Thirsty Dog Siberian Night

(bottle) Black, with a thin brown head. Aroma was surprising - it smelled like tires. Medium sticky mouthfeel. Flavor of bitter chocolate, roasted malts, and licorice. The finish was extremely well balanced - it just slid down my throat. Pretty damn good.

Franziskaner Hefe-Weissbier

(draft) Hazy light brown - darker than others in this style. Aroma standard for the style, bananas along with cloves and other subtle spices. The flavor was subdued and fleeting. A little more yeasty than I was expecting. Very good, though.

Stone Bitter Chocolate Oatmeal Stout

(bottle) Black with a thin brown head that faded quickly. Aroma was milder than I was expecting - chocolate and malts. Medium mouthfeel. Flavor was malts and chocolate, but it seemed tame. The finish was very strong chocolate, almost too strong. It was only after my taste buds had been beaten into submission that I was able to really appreciate the finish. Lingering and coating dark chocolate. A very damn good beer. I want to try this on tap, but I'm not holding my breath for that.

I seem to have lost the ability to take naps. I don't really count what happened Friday evening - that wasn't so much a nap as it was a collapse.

For the last week or two or three - it's all a blur, I've settled onto my couch after work, called for my cat Buddy (who always takes a nap with me) and waited for sleep that never comes. Sleep does not come to me, only thoughts of drowning.

This was again the case yesterday, after I got home from Jeffersonville. I was as tired as I can ever remember being, but sleep was beyond me. So, I went to my sister's party earlier than I'd expected.

It was a pleasant enough event. Crowds are never my thing, though. Everybody knows that. Usually I'll sit at these things and I'll talk to one or two people exclusively for hours. Last night that didn't seem to be an option. Dina was busy being hostess with the mostest. BadPickleGirl was not coming, despite my calling her and pretty much begging her to do so. SpoonsGirl was in a crappy mood, and Eric and Teri were AWOL.

So I was left with the crowd. All good people, certainly. But they're Dina's people, not mine.

I lost count of how many times I caught myself wondering if LaptopGirl would have joined me, had I specifically invited her. My estimate is that I wondered that about a million times.

Anyway, to drink I had a couple bottles of Spezial (1886) and a bottle of Newcastle (10396). I sat with the crowd and tried to not seem like too much of a weirdo. I petted the cat, a lot. I glared at my phone, a lot.

At one point I noticed that my table had become besieged by women. All that estrogen. I began to feel a strange urge to ask for directions and make doilies, so I moved to their new tiki bar and joined the guys. There, of course, everyone talked about hunting.

I came home at 10:00 or so. I sat on my swing and had a yummy Marzen (4585). And I glared at my phone, a lot.

Plans quickly changed, as they are so often wont to do.

Instead of HatGirl and I going to look at diamonds then having lunch, It ended up being HatGirl and LuckyFucker going to look at diamonds, then joining me for lunch. I was still invited to go to the diamond thing, but I didn't want to feel like a third wheel all day long.

So, suddenly finding myself with an extra hour to kill, I went to Sportstime. It had been a week since I'd been to the NABC complex, and I was hopeful that Marzen might finally be back on tap.

But nooooooo!

So instead I had myself a nice Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier (2554) and I talked to MisunderstoodGirl as she scurried between the kitchen and her assigned tables.

Then I went over to Buckhead in Jeffersonville. Actually, first I poked my head into the Hooters there to see if my cousin Jeff was there. He wasn't, so I went to Buckhead then.

HatGirl and LuckyFucker were, of course, late in arriving. I guess I'm used to that, and this time it wasn't their fault. A diamond emergency made them late.

Once they arrived, we sat out on the deck and ordered lunch. For some reason, even though there were about 10 open tables out there, the hostess sat us right next to the only other occupied table. It was really strange. It was also quite annoying, and HatGirl especially didn't like it. So we ended up picking up our shit and moving inside.

That HatGirl is so anti-social sometimes. That's why we get along so well I guess.

And one of the waitresses kept giving me the stink-eye. Probably one of MixedSignalGirl's friends. (About your height, Miss. Maybe about 32 years old. With long dark hair in a pony tail. She kinda looked familiar.)

Oh yeah, with my lunch I had a Franziskaner Hefe-Weissbier (24). I would have had a Paulaner, but they were out, the fuckers.

Then once lunch was over I stuck my head back into Hooters. Jeff was there this time, but he was surrounded by a bunch of high-fiving white guys, so I quickly said hello and then came home.

St. Bernardus Prior 8

(bottle) Hazy brown, decent head that lasts forever. The aroma is mild, fairly malty and funky. Flavor is sharp - more hoppy bitterness than I was expecting, or desiring. Underlying flavors are raisins and a hint of coffee. This beer wasn't what I was expecting at all. Decent is all I can say.

St. Bernardus Tripel

(bottle) Hazy gold. Large white head that was kind of a pain in the ass. A very nice aroma of citrus and spices and flowers. Mouthfeel was very fizzy. Flavor of apples and Belgian hops, but very well-balanced. The large yeast flakes at the bottom of the bottle really grossed me out. Still a damn fine beer.

Lost Coast 8 Ball Stout

(bottle) Pours black, with a thin whitish head. Aroma and flavor of roasted malts and coffee. The coffee was very understated, so it didn't bother me at all. This is a very good malty stout. Extremely drinkable.

I wake up underwater. I'm asleep one second, then the next second I'm disoriented and drowning. Struggling to survive, wondering if I have the strength, wondering if it's worth it.

So, that's not a lot of fun.

---

I've mentioned before how I can't stand to be away from my phone, for fear that I might miss a call or an email or a text from someone important. As this past week has been especially dramatic, I've taken to having my phone shoved up my ass when I shower, just so I'm sure that I won't miss anything.

Then, yesterday afternoon, I went to get my empty trash can from the end of my driveway. I'd been sitting in my garage, contemplating shit, and I left my phone where it was. I even remember telling myself, "Self, you idiot. Now just watch you'll get a call while you're getting your precious trash can."

So then I walked to the end of my driveway and back, and looked at my phone, and the fucking thing was blinking.

I only dropped it twice, fumbling to enter the password, so I'm getting better at that.

---

I did get another call later on. MixedSignalGirl called to check on me and say hello. We talked for an hour or so. I really screwed up with her, but she's happy now, and that's all that matters.

---

Then I got to go on a Super Top Secret Mission of Mystery, fraught with peril. It was fun, and there were no hitches. It was all very sneaky and clandestine. I wish we'd have worn ninja costumes, though. That would have been cool.

---

When I got back home, I sat on my swing and had about a bottle and a half of Left Hand Goosinator (115) and thought about the past and the future.

Not the present, though.

Fuck the present.

---

Friday night I rated my 496th beer. I've been thinking a lot about my 500th rating, which will probably happen this week. I want it to be something crappy, just because I think it would be funnier that way.

Because LaptopGirl is my official swill consultant, I have charged her with selecting the beer that will be my 500th. She suggested Lone Star. That's a good choice, though I'm not sure if I can get it around here. Her backup suggestion is Sapporo.

(Update: Her emergency fallback selection is MGD.)

(Update again: Or Mad Dog. I see her evil plan now. She's trying to drown me in swill. One way to get rid of me, I suppose, but there are more humane methods. I bet the Geneva Convention strictly prohibits drowning-by-swill.)

Anyway, I guess that's it.

I suppose that last night was one of those damn average nights at Rich O's. Better than I expected it to be, worse than I wanted it to be, the whole night just pretty much existed, and that was it.

I actually went there twice last night. I went after work, for about 30 seconds. Then I went back at 9:00 or so.

It's wasn't too crowded. I was able to grab a seat at the kiddie table fairly quickly. I had a Delirium Tremens (1394), and I talked to PlantDude, and I watched the door.

Fast-forward an hour or so, and the only thing that had changed was that I was having a new beer.

Grado Plato Strada San Felice

(draft) Not at all what I was expecting, as it was listed as "chestnut amber" on the beer board at Rich O's. Clear reddish amber in color. A pretty decent head that lasted throughout the glass. A faint fruity aroma - maybe cherries. Mouthfeel was medium-thick and clean. Flavor was very well-balanced. Malts and dark fruits and a tinge of hoppy bitterness. The finish was surprisingly fruity. A damn good beer.

After I got home at 11:30, I sat on my swing for several hours. I began composing a journal entry in my head. It was a good entry, I thought, but it was also a familiar entry. Too familiar.

Turns out I'd already written the damn thing, back in early 2007. The original version of this entry was much more rambling than the version I wrote in my head last night, but this last part was exactly the same.

The question was Why is it better to love and lose, than to never love at all?

Because sometimes, like maybe once in a lifetime if you're lucky, you don't lose.

Because sometimes, you get to love and you get to win.

To love is to open yourself to that possibility. To surrender yourself to that possibility of happiness. To allow yourself to have hopes, and dreams, and to imagine just how incredibly wonderful life could be.

If only.

This time.

I could be loved back.

Then I would win.

That hope, that trumps everything else. All of the pain. All of the heartache. All of the disappointment and the depression and the suicidal thoughts.

Hope is what separates us from the animals. Hope is what makes us human. So we keep looking. Even after failure after dismal failure, we keep looking for hope.

And, when we find ourselves in love, we also find the hope that's been buried so deeply within us that we almost forgot it existed. Love unearths it, and breathes new live into it, and resurrects it.

It takes over.

Nothing else matters.

Nothing else exists.

We become hope.

And I can't think of a loftier goal.

Someday, I hope to love and win.

Today, I caved on the whole beer thing. I had myself a Stupid Arrogant Bastard (66). I actually ordered it like that, with capitalization and everything.

It wasn't too bad. I might even like it if they'd take out half the hops.

But then I did something stupid. I'd bought two bottles of Stone Smoked Porter to bring home, and I totally forgot them when I left.

And now I can't seem to motivate myself to go back and get them.

(Update: Okay, so I went back and got my beers. Never before have I moved so qiuckly - I bet I was in and out of there in less than a minute.)

So today was probably the last AlliDay ever. Though I guess there may be one more, next week. AlliGirl is changing shifts and won't be working Wednesday day-shift anymore.

Wednesday. What a boring word that is. And, from now on, it will probably be a boring day.

My Newcastle (10200), by the way, was yummy.

Crap crapity crap!

So there I was, sitting on my swing and enjoying a lovely Malheur 10 (96). Counting lightning bugs, glaring at my phone, whistling for the neighbor's dog.

I was having a nice night, but then something horrible happened.

My fancy Gulden Draak glass, still almost full of yummy beer, suddenly leapt from its position between my thighs and flung itself onto the bricks at my feet.

Shattered, into a hundred pieces. The beer draining into the spaces between the bricks before I could even think of getting my tongue down there.

It all happened so fast.

Why? Why did my glass take its own life like that?

*sniff* I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye.

I wish I'd known that something was wrong.

I wish I'd known what danger signs to look for.

And I definitely fucking wish it had waited until it was empty, instead of taking ten ounces of yummy Malheur 10 with it.

Such a waste.

I was up to Saturday night with these ramblings, and then I stopped. I don't know why I stopped. Because, after all, absolutely nothing happened Saturday night. I myself stayed home and made gift baskets for orphans all night long.

If you think that anything happened Saturday night, then you're clearly smoking crack and you should seek professional help.

---

So then Sunday I ended up going to Don Pablo's for dinner. I got to see NotHideousGirl for the first time in a million years, and I got to eat yummy food. So there.

Then I went across the street to Hooters and had some Newcastles (10008) and talked to this one dude I went to school with.

You may notice that I passed 10,000 ounces of Newcastle. This doesn't count, though, because I was supposed to save that occasion for AlliDay. I screwed up, and it was only because AlliGirl is so nice that I was given a do-over.

---

Let's see, Monday night I had one of the new beers that I'd bought Saturday at Barley Island.

Barley Island Bourbon Barrel-Aged Oatmeal Stout

(bottle) Black with thin tan head. Mild aroma of bourbon. Medium mouthfeel. Flavor more intense and bourbony that the aroma had hinted. As an oatmeal stout, there isn't much flavor except for the bourbon. Pretty good, though gimmicky.

Then yesterday after work I had another new beer for me.

Victory Golden Monkey

(draft) Pours clear and golden with a large long-lasting head. Nice aroma of apple peels and malts. Smooth and creamy mouthfeel. Flavor more malty than most tripels, maybe some caramel in there that coats the mouth. Quite damn good.

---

And then today, for AlliDay, I had my official 10,000th ounce of Newcastle (10028). There was a big party with balloons and dancing girls. It was fantastic.

Okay, what really happened was that AlliGirl bought my beer for me and gave me a hug. Still pretty damn cool, though.

---

The dude I talked to Sunday reminded me that my high school reunion is approaching in less than three weeks. I guess I don't care. I had originally planned to go, but I don't want to go by myself.

So, basically, waaaaah!

---

Tomorrow I go to Atlanta. It might be fun, but I doubt that I'll find myself in Atlanta, either.

Now, where was I?

Oh yeah, at the stupid depressing park.

I'd gone there, as I'd gone to Polly's Freeze earlier, looking for myself.

I wasn't at either place. I remember running into myself once a long time ago. At Rich O's of all places. That was nice, but that was also the last time.

Anyway, by the time I'd returned home from the floodwall park, it was clear to me that there was a 0% chance that anything good would happen Friday night. Understandable, but of course disappointing. Because of this, I saw no reason to bother leaving my house at all. So that's precisely what I didn't do at all. Instead, I sat on my swing and I glared at my phone and I had three yummy bottles of Delirium Nocturnum (157), and that was it.

Then by Saturday at around noon, I'd once again gleaned that there was a 0% chance of anything good happening. Still understandable, still disappointing. But whereas on Friday that 0% had caused me to lose all motivation, on Saturday I couldn't run out the door and jump into my truck fast enough.

Luckily, I always carry a spare pair of pants in my truck, for times such as that. When I don't want to waste time putting on pants before I leave my house.

What I did, and this really was a spur of the moment decision, was I drove up to Noblesville, Indiana. To the Barley Island brewpub, specifically. Just something to do, really. I might just as well have picked Oaken Barrel, as it's slightly closer to home, but I had Barley Island on my mind because LaptopGirl had been raving about their Barfly IPA.

The drive up took a couple of hours. It was uneventful, though I felt bad because I kept getting emails but I was driving and couldn't type my responses very well. I managed to survive the drive* though. I even managed to respond to some of the emails, when the traffic and the rain let up enough.

The first thing I noticed, upon entering the brewpub, was that it was really dark. Like being inside a cave at midnight with my eyes closed and a bag over my head. But then my eyes started to adjust, and I was able to grope and stumble my way, around a bunch of empty tables and up an unfortunately-placed step, to the bar area.

I only took one picture, and it's a pretty crappy picture, even by my standards.

The first thing I did, after seating myself, was order a trio of small samples, of the three available draft selections that I hadn't had before.

Barley Island Sheet Metal Blonde

(draft) Color of hazy grapefruit juice. Light citrus aroma. Very light citrus flavor, with a bit of sourness, like grapefruit juice. Good, not great.

Barley Island Blind Tiger Pale Ale

(draft) Clear light brown. No detectable aroma or flavor. There was a slightly bitter hoppy finish, but not enough to be completely disgusting. A waste of my time.

Barley Island Barfly IPA

(draft) The color of clear weak tea. Light aroma of floral hops. Medium mouthfeel. Flavor decent but mild. The slightly bitter finish went away after a few sips. Maybe a good session beer.

I went ahead and ordered a full glass of the Barfly (20), and enjoyed that with my yummy burger and fries. I traded a bunch more emails with LaptopGirl, and a few with RockGirl.

I relaxed fairly well I suppose, but I could already tell that I wouldn't be staying. I guess I'd been hoping to find myself, up there away from all of the distractions of home. But I wasn't there, either. I'm still a slippery bastard I guess.

So next I had a Dirty Helen (400), which is one of my favorite brown ales. And then I had something I wasn't expecting. The place had a couple of guest beers available, and one of those guest beers was an all-time favorite of mine. So my last beer was an incredibly yummy Two Brothers Domaine DuPage French Style Country Ale (310).

Before I left, I bought a couple of bottles to have at home sometime. I also picked up a growler of the Barfly for LaptopGirl.

The drive home was uneventful.

* - Poet and don't know it.

First, I had got to do some stuff for work. There were three things to do, and I got two of them done. The third thing showed some potential problems during final testing, so I decided to put it off until I can research it some more. Because I'm all about quality control and shit.

Then, I took a nap. I dreamed about LaptopGirl, probably because she emailed me and woke me up right at that precise moment when I was about to drift off to sleep. Anyway, it wasn't a very good dream, because LaptopGirl was mean to me in the dream, and in the dream I got angry at her. Then when I woke up I was still angry at her for a while. Stupid, I know.

Then HatGirl and LuckyFucker came over for a while.

HatGirl!

Yay!

I took about 800 pictures of them. Standing in front of a tree. Sitting on my swing. Standing in front of another tree. I have no idea why HatGirl chose me to take the pictures. But it was still fun to pretend that I had a clue about what I was doing.

(Deleted)

Then, I went to Hooters and had a couple glasses of Newcastle (9910) and watched some baseball on TV.

Then, I came home.

There's still a chance that HatGirl and I will test my video chat capabilities tonight, but it's getting pretty late so probably not.

So after Friday night's swillfest, I knew that I'd want to return to my roots on Saturday night. I got to Rich O's at 8:00 or so. It was only about half-full, so that was nice. I sat in the throne and talked to some people about some stuff.

Two glasses of Schlenkerla Marzen (4130) later, I was still sitting in the throne talking to some people about some stuff.

It was a nice evening, except that my stupid email on my Blackberry has been broken since Saturday morning. At least I think it's broken. Every time I send an email with the thing, I get an error back saying that the recipient doesn't exist. This causes me great concern, because I'd certainly prefer that they exist.

Some of my emails seem to go through anyway, but I can't be sure if they're all making it.

Anyway, I left Rich O's at 10:15 or so and went to Sluttopia. I talked with my Uncle Wayne for a while, then sat and had a glass and a half of Newcastle (9870). I'd tried to talk LaptopGirl and BigWheelGirl into coming to Sluttopia, but they declined. So there was really no point in me staying there. I went back to Rich O's for a couple of minutes, then went to Jack's. Nobody I knew was at Jack's, so I came home.

It was a warm night outside, so I sat out on my swing, drinking Diet Cokes and contemplating the universe. I stayed out there until 5:00, only coming inside long enough to post a couple of strange blog entries.

Friday night, LaptopGirl and I went to this Bier Prost 2008 thingy at our local riverboat casino complex. I insisted on calling this a date. LaptopGirl insisted that it was merely a thingy. But then I guess her mom said it was a date. So there. Majority rules.

I don't think that either of us was at all sure what to expect there. The flyer said something like, "Beer and food from around the world." So that sounded cool. right? I guess I was expecting it to be more beery than it was. I mean, they had a bunch of tubs with bottles of beer in them. We got cute little ceramic sample cups that would hold about two ounces of beer. Then we'd walk around and ask the bored people working the tubs for whatever we wanted.

None of those people knew about or cared about beer. The only brewery representatives there were from NABC.

It was like the people running the event just went out to a liquor store and bought a bunch of bottles and then put them in tubs full of ice. Even the other attendees seemed to be there just for the charity aspect.

But most disappointing to me was the food. It was just like they called some caterer and said we want some various stuff, and that's all they got.

But the point of the thing, for the people running it, wasn't beer and it wasn't food. It was some charity thing that I never heard of before. So they obviously wanted to save costs wherever they could.

The point of the thing for me, of course, wasn't beer or food either. It was to get to spend some time with LaptopGirl away from Rich O's. And that goal was very well satisfied.

Anyway, I did have some beers. Most of these were just 2-ounce samples. Here are the ones that were new to me:

Barley Island Flat Top Wheat

(bottle) Fizzy, with a nice aroma and a pretty good taste. Very light. More like a Belgian wheat than an American or German wheat. Pretty good. I'll look for this.

(bottle) Dark brown with a nice head. Aroma of dark fruits and maybe some chocolate. The flavor was surprisingly good to me. I will definitely look for this again. Probably today.

(bottle) Usually I know to steer clear of any beer calling itself a blonde, but this was listed as a Belgian Triple in the flyer, so I tried it. I liked it. There was nothing outstanding about it, but neither was there anything wrong with it. Maybe a watered-down Delirium tremens. Good.

(bottle) Straw and other dead weeds, in both the aroma and the flavor. Not very hoppy. Not very much of anything. Disgusting.

(can) Pretty metallic. Quite gross. I don't think that even people who like lagers would like this.

(can) Just gross. Smelled of rotten hops, and tasted very metallic. It tasted to me like it was skunked. Suprisingly bad.

(bottle) I know I'd had this before, but I'd never reviewed it. As a Baltic Porter, it of course reminds me of my beloved Baltika 6. Dark and roasty and chocolatey. Just a touch of alcohol burn at the finish makes me want more right away. Good.

Then we came back to New Albany, and LaptopGirl got this sudden intense craving to stop and eat at this one place I'd never been to before called Waffle House. Anxious to prolong the evening as much as I could, I readily agreed. So we sat and talked some more while she got something to eat, then I took her home and then I came home myself.

It was a really fun night for me. Kinda surreal, but really fun.

So today I went to Jeffersonville.

First time in a couple of years, I think, that I've graced that town with my presence. At least on my own - I seem to recall going to Buckhead for lunch with some coworkers more recently.

Buckhead is where I went today, of course. I like the food there. I like the memories that resurface there. And they usually have good beer, too.

I sat out on the deck, oddly optimistic that it wouldn't rain while I was eating, and I enjoyed a yummy Cajun burger and a Paulaner Hefeweissbier (551) in a plastic cup.

It was very nice out today, as long as it was cloudy. As soon as the Sun would come out from behind the clouds - as happened several times - I'd almost immediately start being roasted alive.

But, it was usually cloudy, and so I survived.

Then, I went across the street to Hooters to see my cousin Jeff. I haven't seen him since my nephew's funeral, but that's not entirely my fault. He has agreed to share a lot of the blame.

Anyway, here's a picture of the potential storm that rolled in right after I got to Hooters.

All that storm really did was dump rain. It cooled things off, though, so that was nice.

While I was at Hooters, I had a couple glasses of Newcastle (9808) while I talked with Jeff. Then I went to Sluttopia to meet up with some old guy who was going to loan me a guitar, but he was a no-show. Damn old people. They can't be trusted for shit.

And that was it. Now I'm back home, wondering what happened to my weekend.

I was really bored for most of the day yesterday. I watched a couple of movies and shot some pool, and that was about it. At about 6:00 I went to Rich O's. It was quite early to be going there, but I thought I might be leaving early, so then it would all even out.

It was pretty dead in there. Kind of a typical Summer Saturday night. So I was able to grab the throne after just a few minutes. I sat there all night. I had three Delirium Tremens (1350), over the course of about four hours, then I switched to Diet Cokes. I traded some emails with RockGirl and LaptopGirl. I talked to PearlGirl in person, and I talked to WeirdGirl on the phone.

Once PearlGirl left, still fairly early, the place was a sausagefest for the rest of the night. Just me and some PBDs sitting around yammering about various nonsense.

I did manage to always keep at least one eye on the door, but nobody interesting ever came in. So that was disappointing.

When they closed-up and kicked everybody out, I came home. I was going to go to White Castle, but I forgot.

Oh yeah, some AWOL guy let me try a sample from his bottle of mead. It was gross.

I wasn't really planning to go to Rich O's last night. I also wasn't planning to not go. I was just going to wait and see if I was invited. Because I'd already screwed things up Thursday night, I didn't expect any such invitation.

So I was trying to take a nap. I'd just been woken up, actually, by a text message from MusicalYuppieDude telling me that it was "fuckin loud" at Rich O's. Then a few seconds later, my brother-in-law called to invite me down to Rich O's.

Okay, so not the invitation I'd been wondering about, but a welcome one nevertheless. I threw some clothes on and went.

Upon arrival, I immediately saw the source of the noise that MusicalYuppieDude had complained about. There were a half-dozen drunken idiots over at the bar. Lucky for me, Dina and Kenny were at the island, so I was able to join them and pretty much ignore the noise. Pretty much.

I had a Schlenkerla Marzen (3972) and a little pizza and I talked with Dina and Kenny for an hour or so. LaptopGirl came in and, after some gentle coaxing, talked with us briefly. So Dina got to met LaptopGirl, finally. She had, I'm sure, suspected that I'd just made her up. Like she used to think I'd made HatGirl up.

Speaking of HatGirl, at about the time I ordered my second Marzen (3989) HatGirl texted me that she might be coming to Rich O's. This was a huge relief for me, because I was very seriously dreading what would happen to my mood when Dina and Kenny went home and I was left alone in that crowded room.

I could feel the stirrings of an anxiety attack. It was going to be Thursday night all over again, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it.

Anyway, after Dina and Kenny left, and a million PBDs stole my seat at the island, I sat at the bar and tried to contain myself while I waited for HatGirl. I had a third Marzen (4006). I went outside and got some air about a million times.

When HatGirl arrived, I was in a pretty crappy mood. But HatGirl was also in a crappy mood (probably not for the same reason) so it all worked out. We were crappy together.

After I'd finished my Marzen, I had what was left of HatGirl's Delirium Tremens (1317). By the time HatGirl left, LaptopGirl was already long gone, so I just sat at the bar drinking a Diet Coke for another hour or so and waited for my hands to stop shaking.

It was a better night than I'm making it out to be. It certainly could have been worse. Like after I got home I managed to install my new toilet thingy without somehow burning my house down. So that was cool.

Please sit down before reading this.

I'll wait.

Okay.

Today, get this, I actually left my house on a day off work!

I know, unbelievable. But true nevertheless.

After spending the first half of the day thinking up creative ways to kill myself*, I suddenly found myself energized this afternoon. This was a good thing, because I had important and pressing shit I needed to do:

1. Buy a toilet thingy, because my old thingy broke.

2. Buy some water-softener salt.

3. See what new DVDs were at Wal-mart.

So I did the first thing, then I skipped the second thing and went to Wal-mart. While I was buying some new movies, and contemplating going back home to preheat my head at about 400 degrees*, my phone rang.

HatGirl!

Yay!

So instead of offing myself*, I ended up going to Louisville to have lunch with HatGirl. It was, of course, very nice. though this is now twice in less than a week that I've had lunch with HatGirl. I may be becoming spoiled. I may just start showing up at her house to demand, "What are we eating?"

Anyway, I didn't eat anything today. I had a Breckenridge Porter (146) though. It was good. And the company was so good that I didn't need to eat.

And AlliGirl got to meet HatGirl, and vice-versa.

Then we went upstairs to check out some bar prospects for HatGirl's bachelorette party. Because AlliGirl might be able to get HatGirl and her friends in for free.

HatGirl begged and cried*, but I had to put my foot down and tell her that I wasn't available to be the stripper at her party.

Then I went and took care of item number two from above, then I came home.

Fun!

* - Not really.

I see, looking back, that it's been over a month and a half since I last reviewed a new beer. This is inexcusable, but the excuse that I'm going to use is that Schlenkerla Marzen has been readily available at Rich O's, and so I've been drinking a lot of that.

Well, tonight was a bust at Rich O's, in several ways, so now I find myself sitting at home almost stone-sober. This can not stand. So I've broken into my 'fridge and am now imbibing a new beer for me. I even took a picture of the thing.

Slaapmutske Triple Nightcap

Hazy dark yellow. Decent head that faded rather quickly. Much more yeasty aroma than others of this style, quite intriguing, though. Mouthfeel a little thin, but standard for the style. Flavor pretty much what the aroma had led me to believe. Apples and yeasts, and some spices in there as well. Pretty goddamn good. I will definitely have more of this.

Tonight was, like I said, a bust at Rich O's. There were several reasons for this. First, I had a glass of New Holland Dragon's Milk (104) in honor of HatGirl, who couldn't make it. I've liked the Dragon's Milk okay in the past, but tonight it just didn't sit well with me at all. It seemed a lot stronger than I remembered. I barely finished the 10-ounce pour.

Next, I tried to drink a Smithwick's, but I couldn't finish the glass (1724). It wasn't helping at all.

The other reason that tonight was a bust was that I, once again, managed to forget what's really important to me. I get so fucking selfish sometimes, I forget almost everything besides my own wants and my own needs. Like those things ever mattered in the least.

I forget that this is all real now, present-tense, and that my actions and my behaviour can have very real consequences.

I ended up coming home at 9:30 or so, and then managed to make matters worse by spending a good part of the next hour and a half flinging giant greasy turds into spinning fan blades.

I hope I can be forgiven. And, if not, then I hope I can forgive myself.

My AlliDay lunch started out on a sour note for me, but it got better.

First, the Newcastle keg blew as AlliGirl was starting to pour it.

Slightly undaunted, I asked for a Breckenridge Vanilla Porter.

That keg blew as well.

I figured I'd go ahead and go for the trifecta, so I asked for a Young's Double Chocolate Stout.

Imagine my surprised relief when AlliGirl was able to pour me a full glass (500). It was very good.

Also, AlliGirl has agreed to help me test my video chat capability. I guess she's not afraid of seeing my dick, like everyone else. So, yay for AlliGirl! Way to be brave!

Now all I have to do is find my old webcam and microphone for her, then we should be able to video chat. Wait, maybe she'll need chat software as well.

Anyway, here's a picture I took today. It looked cooler in person.

Of course I could have just gone back to Dina's. And maybe I should have. It would have been the brotherly thing to do, if nothing else.

But see, the thing was, I hadn't seen LaptopGirl in a million bazillion asstillion years, and there was a chance that she might go to Rich O's. So, that's where I went.

I guess I got there a little before 9:00. It was pretty dead - kind of a typical Summer Saturday night. Fine with me. The throne was open, so I sat there and talked with PirateDude and a couple of his friends for a bit.

My first beer was an NABC Flat Tyre (969). This choice, as it turned out, was stupid.

After PirateDude and his friends left, I was alone in the living room. Just the way I like it. But then these two uberhot blonde girls showed up. That was nice of them.

MusicalYuppieDude came and joined us shortly afterwards. In fact, for the rest of the night there was a fairly constant stream of guys coming to sniff around at the uberhot blondes.

My next beer was a Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier (2390). It was good, but at about the time I got it, I found out that Marzen was on tap.

D'oh!

So I spent the next hour or so just vegging out. I talked to the uberhot blondes for a bit, but my heart wasn't really in it.

I did have a Marzen (3816) for my next beer. OMG it was yummy. I let one of the uberhot blondes have a sip. I don't think she liked it, but VPs almost never like smoked beer.

At 11:00 or so, LaptopGirl showed up, and so of course I promptly forgot about the uberhot blonde girls. I think they were still there, though, because random guys kept sniffing around and the air became tainted with testosterone.

I talked to LaptopGirl for an hour or so.

Yay!

Some ugly old bitch plagiarized her shit. That sucked.

We supposedly split a Guinness, but I ended up drinking most of the thing in one gulp (1869). I was thirsty.

Then somebody suggested that we all go to Jack's. I wouldn't have bothered, but LaptopGirl wanted to go. So we went to Jack's, and LaptopGirl and I "split" a Miller High Life( 8).

Then LaptopGirl got bored, so I walked her back to her car, and we each went to our respective houses.

---

I used to do this thing where I'd migrate between rooms and beds throughout the night. I haven't done it in months, though. But last night I went to sleep in my master bedroom and woke up in my guest room It's kinda scary, that sleepwalking thing. I hope it's not going to become a regular habit again.

I liked Friday night, for the most part. I was in an inexplicably good mood. One that didn't change to the more familiar feeling of foreboding until I was walking into Rich O's. So that was cool.

They were having a sausage festival in the living room area. I needed to eat so I sat at the kiddie table. Before I'd even ordered my beer and pizza, ArtGirl came in and joined me. That was really nice of her, and very good timing.

So I sat with ArtGirl for the next couple of hours, talking about various stuff. I had a couple pints of NABC Cone Smoker (4158) and then about half a pint of NABC Flat Tyre (949).

Once ArtGirl dumped me to go talk to FutureDude, I was faced with a choice. I could either (a) join the continuing sausage festival, or (b) go home, or (c) stay at the kiddie table and stare at the door on the off-chance that LaptopGirl would show up.

I ended up going home, and apparently missing LaptopGirl by about five minutes. So that sucked.

What's kinda funny is that, if ArtGirl hadn't dumped me and I'd stayed for five more minutes, I'd have dumped her to talk to LaptopGirl.

So the other day I was asked to provide an example of my weirdness. I provided an example at that time, and I wrote about it here.

And now, at great risk to my already fragile reputation, I will now give another example of my weirdness.

This was Wednesday night. I got this really stupid fantasy in my head. I was sitting out on my swing, enjoying a lovely Marzen (3579), and I thought that my phone might ring. Never mind that it was very late at night - it was my really stupid fantasy, and so the time was pretty much irrelevant.

Anyway, my phone never rang. So I got more and more antsy about it, and I did something stupid.

I sent an email.

Surely, I thought, Surely now my phone will ring to either indicate an incoming email or a text message or a phone call.

But alas, my phone sat silent beside me on my swing. Mocking me with its silence. My phone is so mean sometimes.

Then, at about 2:30 in the morning, I began to feel tired. I needed to go into my house and get some sleep, but I still had that really stupid fantasy in my head. And in that really stupid fantasy, see, I was outside when my phone rang. So, I figured, if I went inside my house, I'd be giving up on my really stupid fantasy.

Well, I didn't want to give up on the thing. It was a nice really stupid fantasy. I didn't want to go into my house and go to bed and give up on it.

So, brilliant tactician that I am, I went and got my tent and my sleeping bag and my pillow. I set up camp in my backyard, and I slept out there.

Weird, right?

But I never gave up on my really stupid fantasy. Because I'm all stubborn and shit.

I think today was kinda boring. It must have been because I can't remember any of it.

Hold on a second while I scour my brain...

Okay, found some things.

First, my guilt-induced insomnia really played havoc with me Sunday night and into Monday morning. I bet I got three whopping hours of sleep. So that sucked.

Then some crap exciting and challenging activities I was doing for work finally finished, so I was able to stop checking my computer every 10 minutes. So that was cool.

All day long I was starving, yet totally unmotivated to get dressed and leave my house. I just saw no point in it. I see no point in much these days. At about 5:00, however, I noticed that I was almost out of Diet Coke, so I showered, grudgingly put on some clothes, and exited the premises. Because there's no way I'd be able to get up in the morning without my caffeine.

I drove my Monte Carlo (the day's predicted tornado stampede never materialized) to Red Lobster for dinner. My phone rang when I was on the way. It was StupidGirl! Yay! She's so nice. She wanted to wish me a happy Memorial Day because I'm a veteran. Of course, I'm not a dead veteran, but it was the thought that counted.

At Red Lobster, I had my usual yummy food. So that was cool. And I texted OddlyFamiliarGirl in case she was working, but I guess she wasn't.

Then I went to Hooters and had a couple glasses of Newcastle (9618). I traded a few million emails with RockGirl. Then I came home.

I've been watching a bunch of tivoed episodes of The Alaska Experiment.

Now I want to move back to Alaska. I liked it there, except for it being a nonstop statewide sausage festival. It was pretty, except for all the sausages.

Okay, so after my last entry, I remembered that I was bored, so I left my house.

I went to Polly's Freeze for dinner. Some dipshits had my table, but I got over it.

When I was waiting for my food, there was this old woman standing nearby, also waiting for her food. She kinda looked like the mother of a childhood friend of mine, except much older.

"Excuse me Ma'am, are you Brian's great-great-great-great-great-grandmother, by any chance?" I asked.

"I'm his mother," she conceded.

So I told her who I was, and that it was good to see her. I'm pretty sure that she even remembered me. Weird how she's managed to age a quarter-century since I last saw her, a quarter-century ago. I'm sure it's my fault somehow.

But seriously, it was cool to see her. I always worry about people dying. I'm glad she didn't.

Interestingly enough, her son Brian was the model for one of my youngest sister's imaginary childhood friends. For about six months after this one day when Brian came down to our house to play, my sister Neisha was always, "Brian this," and "Brian that." it was quite cute, actually. Her other imaginary friend was named Rakis and I always figured that she'd heard the word rapist on TV or something.

After I left Polly's, I went down to Sluttopia for a Newcastle (9578). I might have stayed for another one but this one drunk kept mumbling to me about the race that was on TV. He kept saying, "Aaarg yuuurg blarr farrrrrrrr uttttt," which I think translates as, "Look at them make all those fucking left turns."

I soon realized that I was just as bored at Sluttopia as I'd be at my house. I also realized that there weren't any mumbling drunk NASCAR fans at my house. So I came home.

Thursday was okay. I went to Rich O's, because I was taking Friday off. All the regular Thursday weirdoes were there encamped in the living room, plus there was an art show, so there were art show weirdoes scampering about as well. I ended up having two pints of NABC Cone Smoker (3833) while I talked with OddlyFamiliarGirl. She distracted me from all the weirdoes, so that was cool.

Then today I developed this overwhelming feeling that something terrible is either happening or about to happen. Even now, several hours later, I can't shake this feeling. I remind myself that I'm not psychic, and that helps a little, but there's still a very strong urge to go hole-up in my basement for a couple of years.

Tonight was my niece's 21st birthday party thingy. We started out at Hard Rock, and then AlliGirl did a fantastic job of hooking everyone up at Rock Bar. They got full V.I.P. treatment, and my niece totally deserved it.

Also, AlliGirl totally disappeared at around 11:00.

Weird.

Oh yeah, I had a Newcastle (9516) in a plastic cup from the Pub.

Sometimes I say things or, more rarely, do things. Things that might not be totally selfless. Things that, on the surface at least, aren't obviously bad, but that are still at least a little bit suspect.

Why did he just say that? people might ask.

What does he mean? people might wonder.

What's he doing now? people might question.

I think it's usually subconscious for me, when I do some of the things I do, and say some of the things I say. I mean, I don't hardly ever intend to do/say these things - they just happen. And then, once they've happened, I'm fucking glad that they did.

I was thinking tonight about certainty.

Some synonyms: assurance, certitude, confidence, conviction, positiveness, surety

Some antonyms: ambiguity, doubt, hesitation, questionableness, tergiversation

It seems to me that we all go through our lives with an almost unbearable amount of uncertainty. Our jobs, our families, our friends, our lovers - none are open books. All harbor secrets or, if not really secrets, at least knowledge that hasn't been uncovered. Questions that haven't been answered or even, in many cases, asked.

Will this last?

What does that mean?

Have I blown it?

What just happened?

Sometimes, I do things or say things. Things that, I hope, either reduce or, ideally, eliminate uncertainty about the way that I feel. And why I feel the way that I feel. About the way that I intend and expect to always feel, forever and ever.

Purposeful or not, intentional or not, planned or not, these things that I sometimes do and say - they all have at their core the one thing that's the most important to me as I struggle to keep my head above water through these turbulent times.

They are all the absolute truth.

If, for example, I say that I always want to see a certain person then that's exactly what it means. There's no ambiguity in the word always. It means what it means, Weird and unsettling as it may be, it's still the absolute truth. It's still a certainty.

I've spent so much time without any certainty about the things that are most important to me. I hate hate hate fucking hate the thought of some people being uncertain as to my intentions, or my feelings, or my motives.

I fucking hate that thought. So sometimes I say things, and sometimes I do things. Things that just might help to clarify things, to answer some of those nagging yet unasked questions.

In case you haven't figured it out yet, I'm in a weird mood. I can thank New Holland Night Tripper (68) for this mood.

To be honest, I don't remember an awful lot about Saturday night between about 7:00 and about 11:00. But I'll start writing anyway and maybe it'll all come rushing back to me.

---

After LaptopGirl left, I think that was about when I started my fourth Dirty Helen. (322). I'd been considering maybe possibly thinking about going to Louisville, but that fourth beer pretty much put that idea on hold. Not that I really wanted to go anyway. LaptopGirl might come back, she'd said.

I'd somehow managed to grab the throne. I don't remember moving there. LaptopGirl and I'd sat on the loveseat when she was there.

Anyway, I was on the throne, just kind of vegging out. Then NotHideousGirl came in. It was very cool to see her, arm in a sling and all.

I didn't word that correctly. The sling part wasn't cool. I meant to say that it was cool to see her despite the sling.

At one point, MusicalYuppieDude came in. I think that was about when I ordered my fifth Dirty Helen (342).

So the three of us talked about random bullshit. The place was pretty dead - just the way I like it. I don't think anyone bothered us except this one dude that's always mooching cigarettes off everyone.

I switched to Diet Cokes at about 8:30 or so. I still felt fine, actually. I just knew that another beer would result in my not feeling fine. So I cut myself off.

Then, at about 10:00, I had an interesting phone conversation. At 10:30 or so, I left Rich O's to go to Louisville.

And then some stuff happened, and some other stuff didn't happen.

For one thing, I got pee on me.

You don't have to tell me that it's kinda silly for me to be here now. And by here I mean the red room at Rich O's, and by now I mean 3:30 on a beautiful Saturday afternoon. You don't have to tell me, because I sort of already know it. But what I also know is that I've got a damn good reason for being here. Now.

I'm supposed to meet LaptopGirl here at 5:00, to tell her something which she already knows. Not that one thing which she already knows, silly. Another thing. I need to tell her that her computer is probably on its last legs.

Anyway, I got bored at home and I didn't want to start anything new at 3:00, so I came down here instead. And now I'm sitting and writing and enjoying a Barley Island Dirty Helen (262). But mostly, I'm waiting. I do that a lot, it seems.

So this morning, after I took care of some bullshit exciting challenges for work, I took my Monte Carlo to get its oil changed. That wasn't particularly interesting except that this one dude kept bugging me to sell my car to him. Not gonna happen, OilChangeDude, so back the fuck off.

After that, I drove around for a while. I checked out the new NABC brewery location. Not much to see except for this one temporary banner thingy. I took a picture:

Then I went down to the other side of the floodwall and looked at the river for a while. That place used to seem so isolated when I was a teenager. Now it's some kind of stupid park. They've got fucking bandstands and bleachers and shit. Plus, it's closed at night. Much slaking used to take place there at night. I wonder where people go now, when they want to slake.

Then I went to Polly's Freeze for lunch. And I got to sit at my favorite table, so that was cool.

Next I drove to Lanesville. I'd decided that I was apparently retracing my childhood in reverse-order. I mean with the floodwall and Polly's. With the oil-change place and the brewery, not so much. So I went to this park in Lanesville where I used to play until I was six and we moved away. It used to be a pretty shitty (hey, poet and don't know it) park. And I suppose it's still shitty. But they keep adding new buildings to the place. They're all locked, though. Maybe that's where they keep all the cool stuff.

I took pictures of this slide. I can't believe it's still here after all these years. I'd have thought it would have rusted into a heap by now. This slide was always scary as fuck to me, when I'd climb up those shaky chains and then pull and contort myself between the bars to the platform. It was worth it, though, because the sliding-down part was really cool.

Next I drove to my old house there in Lanesville. I keep hoping to see somebody in the yard, but I never have, and today was no different.

Next I went home for a bit, but I got bored and came here to Rich O's.

Oh yeah, now I'm having my second Dirty Helen (282) and it's yummy.

So there.

I'll admit, I was a little concerned last night. This dive bar burned to the ground the other morning, and so there was a lot of barless riff-raff in New Albany all of a sudden. So I was concerned that many of those people would infest Rich O's and start doing their drugs in the restroom and start arguments with the bartenders over the lack of swill to drink.

But, if there was any riff-raff there, I didn't see them. It was a fairly nice and relaxing night.

That was the good news. The bad news was that LaptopGirl made only the briefest of appearances. Just enough to whet my appetite. It's okay, though; we're not fighting again. She just had to go back home.

I knew I should have just gone to Covington.

So I spent the bulk of the night sitting at the kiddie table. I started out with a glass of Delirium Tremens (1258) and I followed that up with a couple of pints of Barley Island Dirty Helen (242). All were good. I spent some time talking to SmooshDude, and once he left I moved to the loveseat and talked to PearlGirl and a couple of other chicks. One of the other chicks has been in enough that I will christen her PoolGirl because she's a pool player.

At the end of the night I found myself standing at the end of the bar talking to FutureDude for a while. I came home at midnight or so.

Oh yeah, ActualGeorge was there for a while, too. But he stayed out in the loser section with his family, so I only talked to him for a couple of minutes.

First, I do want to. And I think it's time. But I can't. I was asked to never do it, remember?

---

Monday I finally had the water pump replaced in the Monte Carlo. So now I can actually drive it again. This is beyond cool to me. I even drove it to work today, risking door-dings in the parking garage. Once I get the exhaust repaired (it's a little LOUD) then there'll be nothing wrong with the car except that its owner still won't really be cool enough for it.

---

One of these years I should probably fix the gutter that was torn loose in January.

---

I think I want to go back to Covington this weekend. I seriously doubt that I'll do any such thing, because last time I checked, Covington wasn't located inside Rich O's.

---

On Monday I got to hang out with NormalGirl and RahRahGirl for a while after work. They were dressed to the nines (whatever that means) in sexy slinky black dresses. I don't think I did a very good job of averting my gaze, especially regarding NormalGirl.

---

I've felt myself starting to lose faith in one of my friends. Not that I ever really had any reason to think that I could trust him completely. But lately I've become a little convinced that he'd betray me in a heartbeat. So, I'm getting a little preemptively angry at him. I'm being stupid, I know.

---

Oh yeah, I managed to poke myself in the eye or something last night while I was sleeping. It's been hurting me all day, and it's a lovely shade of red. I hope it doesn't rot and fall out, but if it does then I'm going to get a glass eye that's brown. That way I can walk around with two differently-colored eyes and see if anyone notices.

---

It's midnight and I still have 3/4 of this Marzen (3591) left in my glass. I'd better get to drinking it.

---

I still have better topics that I want to write about. I still can't motivate myself to write, though, so crap like this is all you get for now.

Okay, I'm back now. Heartfelt thanks go out to the zero people who noticed that I was gone. I get tears in my eyes when I think about all zero of you.

Anyway, I was in Covington, KY, which is across the river from Cincinnati and next to Newport. It was for a work thing, a series of meetings that lasted from 8:30 until 5:30 Wednesday. I drove up Tuesday after noon and spent the night.

After I'd checked into the stupid Marriot, I set out on foot in search of food and beverage. I walked from my hotel, at the river's shore, about 18,000 blocks South. All I found were pawn shops and cash advance places. So, not the best part of town, I figured. Next, I shifted a couple of blocks to my left, turned around, and trekked back towards the river. Still, pawn shops and cash advance places, but now with some strip joints thrown in for good measure.

I got back to the stupid Marriot, intending to get in my truck and drive to Newport. I know they have beer there. But, at the hotel, I got to talking to the doorman, and he told me where the touristy section of Covington was.

Remember, back two paragraphs ago, I said that I'd shifted to my left. Well it turns out that I should have shifted to my right. Because to the right was where all of the bars were.

The guy told me it was a two-minute walk. It was more like a zillion years, but I finally made it there. By the time I arrived in the touristy area, I was dying for Newcastle. So I went into the first likely-looking place, called the Cock & Bull.

I'd been hoping to find a Guinness, maybe a Newcastle. I most certainly hadn't dared to hope that I'd find Delirium Tremens, or Unibroue Maudite. Or a bottled beer selection that even MrPopular might envy. It was a very nice place, and I stayed there for hours.

Because I had fish and chips for my late lunch, I was bound by both honor and propriety to have a Newcastle (9367). The glasses were only 16 ounces, but they were unchilled. I was very happy. Even though I thought the fish kinda sucked.

My next beer was a Delirium Tremens (1225), and I spent some time talking to this one dork who wanted Beck's and would settle for nothing else.

Next, I tried something new to me.

Moerlein O.T.R.

(bottle) Clear dark orange. Kind of a weird color. No head to speak of. An aroma of malts and hops that was pretty enticing. Medium mouthfeel. The flavor was extremely good. The hops seemed to be a mixture of the piney kind (which I hate) and the flowery kind (which I love) and there was also a strong malty component to the flavor. Definitely very interesting and balanced and drinkable. I'd love to try this on tap someday. Yummy.

Just one example of my stupidity: I was talking for a couple of hours to this one cute girl about my reason for being there and the upcoming derby and beer and whatever else. It was a good conversation, I will call her EyesGirl, because she had two of them. Anyway, at one point she suggested that we go to some of the other bars in the area. Because I'd told her that I was only in town for one night, she said she wanted to show me a good time.

And not in a hooker way, I don't think. In a I'm a nice girl but I'll be naughty with you way.

So, naturally, I told her that I was seeing somebody. Even though I'm clearly not seeing anyone.

EyesGirl left shortly afterwards. Probably went home to masturbate, the poor thing.

I ended up convincing my boss, in town for the same work thing, to come up to the Cock & Bull and have dinner. I had another Delirium Tremens (1235) and then I talked my boss into giving me a ride back to the stupid Marriot.

Then today I had meetings then I drove home.

I need to see if Rich O's can get the O.T.R. there. I think people would like it, but mostly I'd just like to have it again without having to drive to Covington. It's kind of a cross between Rogue Dead Guy and Three Floyd's Gumballhead.

Last night I didn't even get to Rich O's until about 9:00. I think that's better for me. Less time to build up hope, so not as much disappointment. Last night, my late arrival was a godsend.

I think I've said this before. If so, I'm going to say it again. I think that Rich O's is going to become more and more unbearable between now and November. They don't even pretend to be neutral anymore, as the new signage on the front door attests. Now, I certainly don't mind people having opinions, in fact I support it with everything I have. But it's become perfectly clear to me that only one opinion matters at Rich O's. No dissenting opinion may be spoken, lest the speaker be treated to a verbal assault that would make the drill sergeant in Full Metal Jacket seem like Mr. Rogers.

Anyway.

The place was only about half full, and most of the people there were strangers crammed into the living room area. I sat at the island with UPSDude. WomanRepellant and this one dude who looks like my cousin Robbie were at the bar, but I didn't recognize anyone else.

I had myself a Paulaner Hefeweissbier (501). I talked about random crap with UPSDude. I glared at the strangers in the living room area. I watched the door.

At one point, I think about when I ordered my second Paulaner (518) I texted HatGirl with the incredibly clever and sweet message, "Hi, HatGirl!!!"

I guess it worked, because about ten seconds later HatGirl walked in.

HatGirl!

Yay!

She hadn't got my text message, she and LuckyFucker had already been on their way - probably in the parking lot - when I'd sent it. But I still took the coincidence as proof that great minds thing alike.

LuckyFucker ended up at the kiddie table talking to WomanRepellant, and HatGirl joined me at the island. So I was treated to an uninterrupted hour or so of HatGirl's company. That was very very cool.

Oh yeah, I ended up drinking the last several ounces of HatGirl's Delirium Tremens (1215), because she's going through another lightweight phase.

Yay for free Tremens!

Oh wait, I paid for HatGirl's beer. But still, yay for Tremens!

A few minutes after HatGirl and LuckyFucker left, some utter bullshit happened that put me into a very bad mood, and I left Rich O's. I ended up going to Sluttopia for about 10 seconds, then I came home. What happened next will not be written about.

First, I need to get Wednesday out of the way. Besides it being AlliDay, which is always nice, I went to Rich O's after work to see BadPickleGirl for the first time since right after my Nephew was killed. I had booze for her and that was enough to lure her to see me. So we talked and split a pizza. I had two NABC Cone Smokers (3357) and then she followed me so I could drop my truck off to get its alignment fixed.

One weird thing was that, while I was filling out the little card so I could drop my key in the slot, a little black car pulled into the parking lot. I thought to myself, That looks kinda like Dina's car.

As it turned out, it was exactly like Dina's car, because it was Dina's car. She'd seen my truck and pulled in to say hello. So that was cool.

The next day I don't think anything remotely interesting happened except that I got my truck back.

By Friday night, I'd decided that I wasn't going to go to Rich O's. So of course I went to Rich O's. This has become a very annoying pattern for me. I decide that I'm not going, that I'm going to go someplace different, but then I go because I'm afraid of missing you know who anyone anything. Then, I get in there, and too often lately I find that I'm miserable because of the weirdoes and the fucking loud music and the increasingly belligerent political discussions. But I stay and I watch the door for hours and, more often than not, I leave disappointed. And I vow that, next time, I'll do something different.

But last night was pretty decent. For one thing, it wasn't very crowded at all. Certainly not like a usual Friday night. It was mostly regulars, and we mostly just sat around and babbled about random things.

I'd started out at the kiddie table, where I had two glasses of yummy Delirium Tremens (1209), then when TallLady left I moved to the throne. Most of the night the living room area held myself, MusicalYuppieDude, PlantDude, and PillowDude. At one point PearlGirl came in. She had apparently time-traveled back to the 1960s to buy a dress before coming to Rich O's.

My next beer was a Paulaner Hefeweissbier (484). Then I switched to Diet Coke for a while. I was considering going over to Louisville. AlliGirl had invited me to come see some band I never heard of. I asked MusicalYuppieDude about the band, and he said they're supposed to be pretty good. Plus it would have been nice to see AlliGirl again.

But then LaptopGirl came in and I forgot about wanting to leave. I forget about a lot of things when LaptopGirl is in the room.

I most certainly will not apologize for that.

I babbled a lot. I blame the Tremens I'd had earlier. Plus, she kept asking me questions that seemed to necessitate babbling answers.

Oh yeah, we ended up splitting a glass of Browning's Bourbon Imperial Stout. I already knew that it was yummy, but I think this was LaptopGirl's first time to have it. She said she liked it too.

Once LaptopGirl went home, I briefly thought about heading over to see AlliGirl and the band after all, but in the end I just came home and sat on my swing and did some navel gazing.

I keep seeing these little flickers in my brain.

I'm pretty sure that they're not symptoms of a tumor. And they're not quite entry ideas, but I think that someday they might be. The latter, I mean. Maybe, someday, they'll turn into entries. If they can get over their fear of the light. If they can come out and show themselves to me, so that I might do this writing thing that I seem to want to do today.

Or, if I can catch them before they scurry away again.

Cowards!

I've noticed these flickers, these little thoughts, before. I've written about them before.

The thoughts are there, running around inside me, but they flee when I try to capture them. They hide behind trivia and inane bullshit, and they snicker among themselves about how easily they evade me.

Only the weakest among them are ever at risk.

Sometimes I manage to catch one of these lesser thoughts. Then I'll dissect it and expose its innards to the world. And its brethren watch in horror from their hiding places, and they stop their snickering, for a while at least.

I'm in a fairly strange mood tonight. I don't know why. It might have something to do with the bottle of Ommegang Three Philosophers (49) that I've now almost finished. But I don't think that's it. I think it's something else. Something much deeper than alcohol.

I think that maybe I've just taken a good hard look at myself, and maybe I've started to suspect that I'm not as happy as I think I am.

That would really suck. Because I fucking like being happy.

But I've been noticing shit, every now and then.

I'm starting to suspect, if I look at things objectively, I'm starting to suspect that things aren't quite as fantastic as I've been thinking. There seems to be an underlying stress to my life. Just a touch of effort to interactions that should be effortless. I think it's like walking up a very long, very slight, upgrade. You don't really notice that you're putting any extra effort into walking, but your heart beats faster than it should, and your muscles get tired much sooner than they should. My life is kinda like that. It's harder than it seems.

I'm finding myself being extra careful about what I say. I'm finding myself paying extra attention to what I hear. I'm finding myself working hard during those times of my life that should be the easiest and the most enjoyable. Also, I'm sensing that extra effort in those around me, when they talk to me, they seem to be working harder than warranted.

Oooooh!

I just saw another flicker! I'm going to stop writing now, and try to catch the little bugger.

Remember back when the supercontinent Pangea split, and the flora and fauna of Africa and South America were left to develop and evolve independently?

Well, That's about the same time that my sister Neisha last came into Rich O's. Until last night.

I'd been told, earlier in the week, that both of my sisters were coming to Rich O's, but I very nearly forgot. I guess it was just so unlikely that my brain refused to waste valuable memory space with it. So, I nearly forgot and took off for Nashville Saturday morning.

I'd been thinking about going to Nashville because it's fairly close and I wanted to get away from Rich O's for a night. LaptopGirl had said she wasn't going to be there Saturday night, so it seemed like a perfect opportunity.

But I was late for my truck appointment, so I didn't get its alignment fixed. And then on the way home I remembered about my sisters.

What I ended up doing was talking them to Tumbleweed. This was the first time I'd been in there in a very long time. It will probably be a very long time before I go back. The food just wasn't that good.

After that we went to Rich O's. My sisters got to put several names and nicknames with faces. It was fun. I had an NABC Cone Smoker (3517) and tried to decide what I was going to do after my sisters left. I didn't see any point in staying at Rich O's if LaptopGirl wasn't going to show up.

But what happened was, MusicalYuppieDude and I split a bottle of yummy Malheur 10 (65), and it was so damn yummy that we split another bottle (78). By the time that second bottle was gone, I needed to stick around for a while to sober up. So I had some Diet Cokes and talked with various people about various crap.

Then LaptopGirl emailed me to ask about what she was missing. I asked her to please come. And so that's what she did. Yay!

We sat on the sofa and talked about how she made the front page of a local alternative newspaper. So now she's all famous and shit. I hope it doesn't go to her head.

We split a Guinness, and then she ended up pouring most of her half into my glass (1851).

After LaptopGirtl left, I came home.

Oh yeah! There was a fight when I was on my way to Rich O's!

Let me see if I remember clearly. Just in case I'm ever called as a witness or something. I'll put that in another entry, because I want to have a picture.

I know, I suck. You don't have to remind me. I need to update this thing more often. Even if I only have boring things to write about, I still need to do it.

Thursday was another virtual Friday for me, so I went to Rich O's for some stupid reason. The fucking Thursday weirdoes were there, of course, and they made my life miserable with their existence, of course.

I sat at the kiddie table and had three yummy glasses of Delirium Tremens (1187) and they were yummy. I didn't really talk to anyone except WomanRepellant, and even that was just for a while.

I got really really bored and left once I'd realized that nobody interesting was going to show up. Also, now there are three of the Thursday weirdoes wearing those stupid hats. Before, it had been just the one uberweirdo. But now there are three of them doing it.

So then Friday morning we had us some earthquakes.

When the first one hit, all three of my cats jumped off the bed and hauled ass down the hallway. I woke up and wondered for a second if my cats were really fat enough to cause the house to shake like that. When my mind cleared a little, I thought that a tornado must be barreling toward my house. But when I turned my head and looked out my window, I saw stars in the sky. That's when I figured that it was either an earthquake or a plane crash or something.

The thing about earthquakes is that you don't know how long they're going to last or how strong they're going to get. So I put on some pants in case I had to run outside.

The other thing about earthquakes is that you don't know anything. I mean, it could have been a .01 earthquake right under my house, or it could have been an 11.5 earthquake in St. Louis. I didn't know, and I wanted to know, so once the shaking had stopped I went and checked the USGS site. I was very impressed that they already had information about the quake - it had only been a couple of minutes.

The second earthquake that I felt was at 11:15 or so. I was in my kitchen, and all of my bottles started rattling together, or I might not have even noticed it.

Anyway.

Friday afternoon was fun. I went to Polly's Freeze for lunch. There were 18 million high school kids there, but they arrived right after I did, so I didn't have to wait for my order. So, haha stupid high school kids. Then I got an email from LaptopGirl. Then I went and had the oil changed in my truck, then I bought new tires for my truck. The old tires were 9 years old, so I got my money's worth.

Friday night I got a couple of text messages from TremensGirl. She seemed to want me to be at Rich O's, for some reason. But of course by the time I finally arrived there were people more interesting than me there. Hard to believe, I know. But that's okay, I have enough to worry about, and I'm sure it's all my fault anyway.

I sat at the island and watched the door all night. The place was pretty packed, mostly I think because some dude nobody ever heard of was playing music in the special people section, and so anyone who didn't feel like paying the cover charge had to use whatever space they could find and/or manufacture in the remainder of Rich O's.

So I sat at the island and I had a couple pints of NABC Cone Smoker (3497) and then after LaptopGirl arrived (yay!) we split a Smithwick's (1688) and talked mostly about babies and murder-mystery stuff. I had a brilliant idea for a Rich O's murder-mystery. Maybe someday it will actually happen, but I'll have to write it myself because LaptopGirl doesn't like my idea.

Then when I came home I sat in my garage and had a bottle of Schlenkerla Marzen (3431). It had been raining earlier, or I'd have sat on my swing.

Then today I was supposed to have the wheels realigned on my truck, but I got there too late. Oh well.

Okay, I'm all caught up with this blog thingy now.

I got to Rich O's at 4:00 or so. That had been my plan all along. So when SassyGirl called at 3:00 to let me know she and JauntyGirl were back in town, and I told her I could meet her at 4:00, I didn't choose that time just to piss her off. Though I could somehow hear her face fall when I told her that. They had other plans, so they wouldn't be at Rich O's until later.

So, like I said, I got there at 4:00 or so. There were four strangers in the living room, but it looked like they were getting ready to leave, so I sat at the kiddie table and positioned myself to pounce onto the throne. I ordered a small pizza and an NABC Flat Tyre (839).

Once the stranger quartet had left, I moved my shit and sat on the throne. PearlGirl came in with her hot teacher friend, so that was nice of her. Even nicer was that my sister called to let me know that she was on her way to Rich O's. That was a nice surprise.

I used a variation of the word nice three times in that paragraph. I need a new thesaurus.

After my Flat Tyre, I had an NABC Cone Smoker (3397).

Dina and her husband Kenny came in and sat on the sofa, and we talked about various fluff for a while. Then SassyGirl and JauntyGirl came in and squeezed onto the sofa. It was all very nice and pleasant. SassyBoy joined us at one point.

At about 6:00, it was time for Dina and Kenny to be getting ready for bed, so they left. I think this was about when I switched to Diet Coke for a while.

The rest of the evening passed quickly enough. It mostly consisted of SassyGirl giving me shit for not dropping my tentative Saturday plans to see LaptopGirl, and hanging out with them instead. She gave me a lot of shit about that, and I asked her more than once to please stop. See, nobody understands. I would skip my own fucking funeral if there was even a slight chance that I might get to see LaptopGirl instead. I will not apologize for my priorities.

My next beer was a Delirium Tremens (1157), and it was the best-tasting beer I'd had in a long time.

Once SassyGirl and her posse left, I sat around for a few more minutes, then I came home at 9:30 or so.

I'm working from home again today. Burning yet another day of vacation so I don't lose it completely at the end of the month. I'll have 36 hours left to use, after today. I might make it.

Anyway, so last night was a sort of virtual Friday for me, so I went to Rich O's. I got there a little before 9:00, and I was quite dismayed to see that not only were all the Thursday weirdoes still there, they had infested the entire living room area. I said hello to MusicalYuppieDude and TremensGirl, who were suffering on the sofa, and then I sat at the island and talked to some dude who needs to get a nickname.

I think I was expecting to be sad all night. I think I was even looking forward to it, at least a little bit, as it would be a chance to visit a version of myself that I haven't seen in a long time. Accordingly, I didn't fuck around when it came to my beer selection. I went straight for a bottle of Avery's The Reverend (547). It was yummy as always, and it's actually all I had there last night.

I never did become sad like I'd been expecting. WomanRepellant came and joined me for a while. I traded a couple of emails with LaptopGirl. OddlyFamiliarGirl came and sat with me. The two of us talked for at least two hours about various stuff. I had two Diet Cokes once my beer was gone.

It ended up being a much nicer night than I'd been expecting, so my reunion with my past self never happened.

When I came home I sat on my swing with a yummy Schlenkerla Marzen (3338), sent another email to LaptopGirl and a couple to RockGirl, and then watched the lightning until it started raining. Then I went to bed.

The random girls in the previous entry, I met them at this new PJ's Brewhouse in Louisville. Please note that I called it a brewhouse instead of a brewpub. Apparently, there's a difference. Also apparently, calling something a brewhouse means that you don't have to brew beer there.

Something like that.

I heard about this place about a month ago from a guy at work. I knew I wanted to check it out, but I had a tough time getting motivated to go over there. I invited LaptopGirl, but she didn't want to go. I invited WeirdGirl, but she was mad at me. I dropped several hints onto HatGirl Saturday, but she politely ignored them.

So I went by my damn self.

It seemed like a pretty nice place. It seemed even more nice when the bartender decided to give me samples of seven beers on the house. Because I'm all famous and shit.

Anyway, I sampled all of their beers except for a maibock. I don't remember why I didn't sample the maibock.

BJ's Blonde

(draft) Clear golden. Metallic hoppy taste. Served way too cold. I was not expecting to like this, and I didn't. A waste of time.

BJ's Harvest Hefeweizen (2)

(draft) Hazy yellow. Strong aroma of cloves, yeast, and bananas. Maybe some vanilla in there. Flavor was like the aroma, except there seemed to be roasted malt in the thing too. Weird for a hefeweizen, but pretty good.

BJ's Jeremiah Red (5)

(draft) Clear copper color. The aroma and flavor were mild, but malty and fruity. Very smooth and creamy mouthfeel. Good.

BJ's Nutty Brewnette (5)

(draft) Stupid name. Clear dark brown in color. Aroma and flavor of roasted malts and light hops, with a lingering bitter hop finish. Too damn hoppy for a brown ale. Decent is all I can say.

BJ's Piranha Pale Ale (2)

(draft) Clear amber in color. Light hoppy aroma and flavor. Just a slightly bitter finish. Pretty tame. I don't like the style, but this was endurable.

BJ's PM Porter (5)

(draft) Fizzy (?!?!?) dark brown, almost black. Light chocolate aroma. Mouthfeel is watery and creamy. The fizziness is very weird in a porter. Flavor of watery chocolate and a touch of roasted malt. Good flavor, but not very much of it, so this gets only a decent rating.

BJ's Tatonka Stout (21)

(draft) Black in color. Roasted malts dominate the aroma and flavor. A mild alcohol burn finishes. For an alleged imperial stout, this is pretty lame. For a regular stout, it's pretty good. Reminds me of Bell's Kalamazoo Stout. Good.

Clever readers may deduce that I had a full (16 oz.) glass of the Tatonka after my sample was gone.

I ended up being there for about three hours, mainly because of the random girls who kept pestering me. I also had some chicken pot sticker thingies that were very good.

It was fun. LaptopGirl and/or HatGirl and/or WeirdGirl should have come with me. I don't bite. Except when asked.

My plan had been to try to take a quick nap before going back to Rich O's, but I was afraid that I'd fall asleep and not wake up until this morning. So I ended up going back at 7:00 or so.

The place wasn't all that packed, but it was all weirdoes and strangers. Except for CrewCutGirl, I didn't recognize a single customer in the place. The living room area, in particular, was full of weirdoes.

I sat at the kiddie table and had an Ommegang Three Philosophers (24). I emailed LaptopGirl about the weirdoes. I emailed OddlyFamiliarGirl about her Olive Garden discount. I emailed RockGirl about something or other. Mostly I just sat and watched the door.

I had an NABC Community Dark (281) and sipped at it for a couple of hours.

Oh yeah, I was also starving. I was going to eat something, but I'd told LaptopGirl that I'd hold off in case she wanted to split a pizza or something. We were supposed to go listen to karaoke at Sluttopia, and I thought that she might be able to swing by Rich O's first.

At 10:00, I ended up going over to Sluttopia. LaptopGirl met me there. I had a Newcastle (9149) and a sip of LaptopGirl's Sierra Nevada ESB while we endured this one weird origami guy demonstrating his creations.

They didn't even start the karaoke until late, because of some basketball game. So that sucked. And then, once people started singing, they were all fairly terrible.

I tried to talk LaptopGirl into singing, but I didn't press very hard.

LaptopGirl got to stay for a couple of hours. That was really nice. I ended up drinking the last half of her Newcastle (2159). When she had to leave I gave her the wine I'd bought for her today. I hope she enjoys it.

It was a really good night. One of the best.

Except I never did eat anything.

It's been a fun day so far.

First, I woke up at 5:30 in the flipping morning. Now, on a lot of Saturdays, I'll just go ahead and get out of bed at times like that. Because I know that I'll be able to take a nap later. But today, today I knew that I'd be spending a good chunk of the afternoon with HatGirl, so I forced myself to go back to sleep.

I almost overslept and missed my lunch date altogether.

But, I did manage to wake up with enough time to spare. I even arrived early to The Olive Garden. HatGirl, of course, was late. But at least she'd texted me that she would be late.

Lunch was good. I don't think I've been to Olive Garden since MixedSignalGirl and I were together, and I'd definitely never been to this particular one. I ate about half my ravioli and got stuffed. I'm still stuffed even though it's been almost five hours.

After lunch, we went booze shopping. I managed to get everything on my list except for this one wine that MrPopular had requested. Apparently you can't get that particular wine in this country.

But everything else, I got. Even the supposedly hard-to-find wines that LaptopGirl had requested.

It was fun. Food was good. Shopping was fun. HatGirl is charming company. She had this hole in the thigh of her jeans. I used my psychic powers to try to widen the hole, but by then she'd become self-conscious and was covering the hole with her hand.

Speaking of LaptopGirl, on the way to Rich O's to deliver booze to MusicalYuppieDude and MrPopular, I spied LaptopGirl and her son out in front of her house. I stopped and asked if she wanted her wine then and there. She said she'd get it later. A part of me is now wondering if she is now desperately making plans to move, now that it's obvious that I know where she lives.

I stopped at Rich O's and, surprise, both MusicalYuppieDude and MrPopular were there. So I gave the former his booze, and the latter his wine. Then I sat at the island and screwed up:

Paulaner Salvatore

(draft) I ordered this by mistake, as I'd thought I was ordering their hefeweissbier. I could not have been more wrong. I did have a few sips of this, to see if it was as disgusting as all dopplebocks are to me. It was. I only had those few sips.

I also waved at ArtGirl, who was busy doing something artsy in the red room, and then TremensGirl once again graced the state of Indiana with her presence. So I talked to her for a bit before I came home and wrote this entry.

I keep having this problem, when I go to write my beer reports. I almost invariably think of one or two things that I shouldn't write about. Usually the most important and/or interesting things. And because I can't write everything that I really want to write, I ended up losing motivation to write anything at all.

Anyway, Thursday night was packed. Standing-room only for much of the night. My theory is that the regular Thursday weirdoes have somehow learned to reproduce themselves. If I'm right about this, then the world is about to become a very scary place.

So for the first hour or so, I stood in the annex area and glared at everyone. I had a new beer:

Maredsous 10

(draft) Hazy bronze. Huge heaping head. Aroma and flavor a little faint for a tripel. I was astonished to discover that this beer has 10% ABV - it's almost undetectable. I like this, but there are many better tripels out there.

FirstGirl was having a beer that looked intriguing, so that's what I had next:

Glazen Toren Saison dErpe-Mere

(draft) Yellow with a slight haze. Very good head and lacing. At first, it seemed a little watery, but then subtle flavors of apple peels and sour apples became evident. Pretty good.

Ommegang Three Philosophers

(draft) Clear dark reddish brown. Huge head that lasted forever. Aroma and flavor both surprisingly understated, with malts and a hint of cherries. Very smooth. Very good.

At one point, I did something I'd never done before at Rich O's. I spilled an entire beer. The damn glass just slipped out of my hand. Or maybe somebody pushed it. Or maybe it jumped. Though it didn't seem depressed to me. Whatever, it fell about six inches onto the island and broke. There was beer everywhere, especially on my pants and shirt. So that was embarrassing.

I made sure to text TremensGirl about what I'd done. I gave her shit once when she spilled a beer, and I felt that it was only fair that she be allowed to return the favor.

Once I'd managed to clean up the mess, I got a new glass of the same beer. It was yet another new beer for me:

Bluegrass Grand Old Fella

(draft) Their Jefferson's Reserve Bourbon Barrel Stout, but aged for three years. The results are a much more intense bourbon aroma and flavor. Still pretty good, but maybe a touch too intense for me. I like the regular version better.

---

Friday night was much better, crowd-wise. Or it at least seemed that way because I got to sit on the loveseat right away. To start the night, I had one of those Glazen Toren Saisons (24) and enjoyed it a lot. I was a little disappointed to find that it had 7.5% ABV in it, because that meant I couldn't drink it all night. I had to pace myself.

So next I had a bottle of Schlenkerla Marzen (3253) which was yummy as always. I suppose I talked to PearlGirl while I sat there, but mostly I think I just watched the door.

My next beer was a bottle of yummy Rogue Chocolate Stout (2509), and I nursed that for at least two hours. I very much prefer it in draft form. I hope it comes back on tap soon. Hint hint.

At 9:30 or so, all the cool stuff started happening. I was outside talking to RockGirl on the phone, telling her about how I'd almost given up on LaptopGirl showing up for the night, and my phone beeped to announce an incoming call. I suppose the dramatic thing would have been if it was LaptopGirl calling. It wasn't, but it was just as good. It was HatGirl! She wanted to know how crowded it was. I lied my ass off fudged the truth and told her there were plenty of seats, and she said she would be there shortly.

About an hour later, I'd not only given up on LaptopGirl, but I was starting to give up on HatGirl as well. But then HatGirl finally arrived.

HatGirl!

Yay!

As had been prearranged, MusicalYuppieDude vacated the loveseat so that HatGirl could sit with me. We talked about various stuff, such as how it had been trillions of years since we'd last seen each other. I took her out front to show her the poster that looks like her.

When we got back to the loveseat, LaptopGirl finally emailed me asking what was going on. I replied that it was all drunken debauchery, as usual. So then LaptopGirl came in. I introduced them. I used their real names, but I had a very strong urge to introduce them to each other as HatGirl and LaptopGirl.

Now, I'd been concerned, after HatGirl had arrived, that if LaptopGirl showed up as well I'd pay all of my attention to LaptopGirl. She has this effect on me where everyone else fades into the background. I didn't want HatGirl to fade into the background. Well, I think I did a pretty good job of talking to both of them. It didn't hurt that I was squeezed into the loveseat between them. It was quite warm, sitting there. And I'm not talking about the temperature.

This was about when I ordered an NABC 15B Porter (372).

Anyway, by the time HatGirl needed to leave, I guess this one dude was being strange, so I walked HatGirl out to her car. We talked for a few minutes in the parking lot, mostly about her upcoming wedding, and we both shivvered the whole time.

When I got back inside, some dork had stolen my seat next to LaptopGirl, so I sat at the kiddie table and talked to her from there. I guess she must have been bored at Rich O's, because she wanted to go to this my bar place nearby. We went there, but we didn't go inside because (a) there was crappy music audible from the parking lot, and (b) they had a cover charge for their stupid DJ, and (c) there was some emergency brewing at LaptopGirl's house, like the baby was waking up or something equally disastrous.

So we went back to Rich O's and talked for a few more minutes until she left. I left a few minutes later, my night complete.

So today, instead of flinging myself off the top of the nearest tall building, I figured that I'd try HatGirl one more time. I was really starting to freak out, and I sent her a message telling her as much.

She responded!

Yay!

We traded a couple of emails. I guess most notable was that she looked at my entry from Monday and called the resemblance "scary."

She did not offer an opinion as to whether her ass is better than the one in the poster.

---

On another front, I keep saying that the tiniest little things can mean all the difference to me. Tonight someone declined an invitation I'd made. But it was still very cool, because I was expecting no answer at all. Even the tiny little act of turning down my invitation will end up being one of the high points of my week.

---

I think I'm going to try to take a day of vacation Friday. I've still got a lot of hours that I need to use or lose by the end of April. I'll most likely have to work several hours on Friday but, as I said last week, I can work from home and I won't have to put on clothes. Plus, having Friday off means that I can go to Rich O's Thursday night.

---

Saturday I go booze shopping. I'm trying to put together a list of stuff to buy, so if you know me you can send me an email and I'll add your choice to my list.

---

Tonight I watched this stupid I Am Legend movie. I also had most of a bottle of Left Hand Snow Bound (112). I say most of a bottle because I managed to backhand the glass onto the floor at one point. Oops.

---

I think that's it for now.

---

Oh, wait. LaptopGirl told me that I'd be sad when I found out who got eliminated from American Idol tonight. She probably thinks that I'd be sad if Ramiele was voted off, so that's going to be my guess.

I ended up burning a day and a half of vacation Thursday and Friday. Still had to work several of those hours, but at least I got to work from home and I didn't have to put clothes on. Except when my sister came over Friday morning. I wore clothes then.

Let's see, Thursday night I got to Rich O's very early. My time sense was all out of whack because I'd left work early. I remember being excited because it was Thursday night and the usual group of weirdoes wasn't there. I pointed this out to MusicalYuppieDude, and he pointed out that it wasn't time for the weirdoes yet. What a buzz-kill.

Sure enough, the weirdoes all showed up for their 7:00 circle jerk. But they stayed in the red room, so it was okay.

I spent most of the night talking to FirstGirl's legs. I think FirstGirl was there too. Yes, in fact she was, because we talked about why so many women's shoes have such pointy toes. I think they look like elf shoes.

At about 9:00, suddenly and desperately looking for any distraction from a violent craving to bother LaptopGirl, I started texting and emailing everyone else under the Sun. A few people even replied, thank you very much. So that was cool. Except HatGirl didn't reply, so that sucked. And my craving subsided, so that was cool.

I had an NABC Cone Smoker (3297) and then about a bottle and a half of Rogue Chocolate Stout (2487). The Rogue was particularly yummy.

Friday night started out pretty loud. When I first arrived, I sat at the island where ExBartender was sitting with a couple of other dudes. Now, ExBartender is generally a fairly loud person. But I'm used to that, and it's part of his charm or whatever. What I wasn't used to was sitting with three people who were basically screaming at each other. Not screaming in anger, just with the joy of life or alcohol or something.

So I only put up with that noise for about 10 seconds before I picked up my shit and moved to the bar. I finished my Cone Smoker (3317) and then had a Regenboog Guido (42) for the first time in a few years.

I texted HatGirl again. Still no reply. So I'm officially freaking out and becoming convinced that HatGirl is mad at me for some reason. I can't imagine what that reason might be, though. Maybe my awesomeness is making LuckyFucker look bad in comparison.

(I'm kidding. Really. Maybe if I rag on you two you'll come to Rich O's and defend yourselves.)

TremensGirl had said that she'd be in, but there was no sign of her. So I texted her that this one blonde chick she knows was there. You know, in case I wasn't cool enough on my own to lure TremensGirl in.

About ten seconds passed, and TremensGirl came in and went to sit with the blonde chick.

Several million years passed, during which I accomplished taking a piss and moving to the sofa. But finally LaptopGirl came in. After I had established that we weren't fighting (I had to ask) we sat on the sofa and talked about various stuff like how my brain works. Or doesn't work. Whatever.

I felt a little bad because I'd texted TremensGirl to invite her to come in, but by the time she'd got around to me, LaptopGirl was there and everyone else blipped off my screens. But then MrPopular came to the rescue and kept TremensGirl company except for this one tense moment when she almost tried to pick a fight with LaptopGirl over politics.

(There. I used your new nickname. Your life is now complete.)

By the time LaptopGirl went home, I'd finished a second glass of the Guido (54) and a couple of glasses of Diet Coke. I'd been thinking about maybe going over to Louisville, but instead I just came home.

I have other stuff to write about, but for now, the chance to make OddlyFamiliarGirl feel envious of me, of all people, is just too good to pass up.

After I got home, I sat on my swing and had a lovely Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier (2357). It was yummy, and though the wind made it a little chilly, it was well worth it.

So, ha ha!

I think that, too often, I manage to see only the good in people. Then, when they reveal their true nature, I take it as a personal attack.

I think that, too often, I see only the bad in people. Then, when they reveal their true nature, I ignore it and soon forget that it ever happened.

This might not be the best way to live my life. Seems kinda lopsided, if that makes any sense.

---

I was thinking about sweetness tonight, as I enjoyed a Fastenbier (376), which had magically reappeared on tap even after FutureDude had told me it was gone. I think FutureDude is pissed at me for some real or imagined reason.

Anyway, I know two girls who I would absolutely characterize as sweet. Not particularly nice, perhaps, but definitely sweet.

Shut up. There is too a difference. A huge difference.

There is just something special about a sweet girl. I wish that I knew more of them. But alas, they are very rare, at least in the world that I inhabit.

I think that's why I'm so drawn to sweetness.

I'm not saying that no other qualities matter to me, because they certainly do. But sweetness trumps everything else.

---

I'm not even sure that I could describe what the fuck I'm talking about.

---

I am tired now.

Last night my afternoon nap ran a little longer than I'd planned, so I was late getting to Rich O's. I was so late, in fact, that NotHideousGirl commandeered somebody's phone to call me and make sure I was on my way.

It's nice to be missed.

When I finally arrived, a little before 9:00, I was quite dismayed to see several hundred weirdoes in the living room area, with NotHideousGirl reigning supreme in the throne. I also saw MusicalYuppieDude, HairDude, and UPSDude sitting over in the red room.

I ended up sitting in the red room. There was no seat available in the living room area. Plus there were weirdoes there.

I already mentioned that, Friday night, I'd had several sips of LaptopGirl's Moinette Brune. Those sips, evenly distributed between offered and pilfered, were all pretty good. So that was the first beer I had when I sat down:

Moinette Brune (15)

(draft) Cloudy dark brown, with a large tan head. Aroma of dark fruits and something else - maybe caramel? The flavor was much more subdued than my earlier sips had led me to expect. The beer tasted a little flat and/or one dimensional. Not really anything wrong with it, but not worth having again.

New Holland Night Tripper (12)

(draft) More than black, this beer absorbed all light from within a radius of several feet. The tan head was fairly impressive as it lasted until the glass was empty. A light aroma of roasted malts, with a touch of coffee and chocolate in there as well. Flavor was almost all roasted malts, though the beer somehow managed to stay very well-balanced. Extremely yummy.

The Dragon's Milk had me particularly excited because, as soon as I heard that it was available, I texted HatGirl and told her the news that one of her all-time favorites was finally available. I was excited myself, but the thought of an actual possible HatGirl appearance nearly made NotHideousGirl wet herself with excitement. Actually, she may have wet herself; I neither asked nor checked.

But alas, the visit was not to be. HatGirl wasn't feeling well, and so she probably won't make it to Rich O's until next weekend. I have serious doubts that Dragon's Milk will still be available then. My excitement will, however, be undiminished.

Besides talking with the guys in the red room, and enjoying the occasional visit with NotHideousGirl, and trading text messages and picture mail with HatGirl, I did what I always do. I watched the door and waited to see if LaptopGirl would make an appearance.

By the time she finally showed up, I'd almost given up on her for the night. I'd moved to the throne (most of the weirdoes had left by then) and I was just starting to allow myself to relax for the first time all night.

Then the emails and the text messages started pouring in. A couple of the former from LaptopGirl, and about a million of the latter from WeirdGirl. It seemed that I would need to do some damage control with WeirdGirl, but it was going to have to wait, because LaptopGirl came in a little after 11:00. Yay!

The only seat available was at the far end of the sofa. After I glared at some weirdoes and intimidated them into vacating, I was able to go sit with LaptopGirl and talk to her for a bit. Fantastically surreal, as always.

At some point during the night, the plan had been established that NotHideousGirl and I would go to Sluttopia so she could sing at least one song to honor her deceased friend. Well, the situation with WeirdGirl looked like it was going to prevent me from going. In fact, everyone else left for Sluttopia, and it was only after a couple of phone calls to WeirdGirl that I felt right about going myself.

Sluttopia was pretty much like normal. Not to write about except that I got to introduce NotHideousGirl to my Uncle Wayne, who runs the karaoke shows in there.

At 2:00 or so, everyone else had gone off to do whatever it is that they do. I myself came home and talked to WeirdGirl on the phone for a while, then I went to sleep.

I figured that, while I wait for my houseguest to rise from the dead, that I'd catch up on some beer reviews.

There's this high-alcohol festival going on at Rich O's, called Gravity Head. It's their biggest festival every year. I usually manage to have a few of the strong offerings, but I don't bother trying to sample them all.

Anyway, here are the new high gravity beers that I've had over the last couple of weeks.

Alvinne Podge Belgian Imperial Stout

(draft) Black in color, with a thin tan lacy head that faded quickly. Aroma of malts and light chocolate and dark fruits. Medium mouthfeel - not quite syrupy. The flavor is fairly tame, mostly malts and chocolate. I like this. Dangerous though, because the high ABV is hidden very well.

(draft) Clear dark amber. Good long-lasting head. No detectable aroma. The mouthfeel is a little watery, and the flavor is mostly roasted malts. A decent beer, but kind of a waste of time. The alcohol was hidden very well, a little too well, I think.

(draft) Hazy brown in color. Minimal head that lasted. Strong aroma of hops and alcohol. Flavor more of the same. I can see how most people would really like this beer, but it's not a style that I care for. Decent is all I can say.

(draft) Hazy dark brown, with no head to speak of. According to JauntyGirl, this smells like hairspray. I myself would say that it smells of roasted malt and alcohol. Fairly thin mouthfeel, with the flavor of roasted malts and overriip cherries. No alcohol burn at all. Pretty darn good.

(draft) Clear amber in color. No head at all. Zero. Smells a little bit like laundry detergent, of all things. Mounthfeel is meduim syrupy. The flavor is a little weird to me - as with all barleywines. There is a noticeable alcohol burn at the finish. Decent.

(draft) Very dark red, with a light pink head that shrank but lasted. There was some discussion as to what the aroma was, and it was decided that this smells like Luden's cough drops. Flavor is cherries and cranberries. No alcohol burn at all. Quite good, but also quite strange.

(draft) Clear dark orange in color, this beer didn't seem to have much of an aroma. So I was surprised to find such a funky and citrusy flavor. To be fair, this beer may have clashed greatly with the chocolately porter I'd had earlier, but I don't think I'd have liked it all that much anyway. I only drank a few sips, then I gave the rest away.

(bottle) Black with tan head. Aroma and flavor of coffee and light chocolate. Not much of a bourbon flavor, but a lingering alcohol burn that was bourbony.

(draft) A fairly standard imperial stout, though I was disappointed to find not even the slightest hint of chocolate. This thing was all coffee and roasted malts. Not my favorite by a long shot.

(draft) Hazy golden in color, with a large head that shrank quickly. Fairly standard aroma and flavor for a Belgian of this style - so pretty good. There was a tiny bit of unexpected creaminess as it swirled in my mouth. The finish was a little drying, but not so much as to be obnoxious. A pretty good beer.

I guess I'm having the same problem this morning that I had a couple of Sundays ago. I think about the previous night, and writing an entry about it just seems too daunting a task.

So, that Saturday Beer Report from a couple of weeks ago never got written, and this Friday Beer report will probably end up being a brief one, though the night itself certainly wasn't brief.

First, while it's on my mind and while I'm sitting at my keyboard, two Saturdays ago, I went to Rich O's and was greeted with the question, "Did you see SassyGirl?"

I replied that I had not, and I was told that she was sitting out front.

I ran out front and, sure enough, there sat SassyGirl!

Yay!

She and JauntyGirl had come into town that day. She hadn't called to let me know, because she'd wanted to surprise me at Rich O's.

Well, that plan certainly worked. I was definitely surprised.

The timing of their visit was close to perfect, as Saturday through Tuesday were pretty stressful for me, and those girls provided a lovely distraction for several hours of those days.

Anyway, a bunch of other stuff has happened between then and last night, but it seems like it would be hard to write it all down. So, I won't. I'll just skip to last night.

I arrived at Rich O's at 6:00, that early hour determined by the fact the my sister Dina and her husband Kenny were there. We talked until 7:30 or so, when they had to get home for some basketball game or something.

I ate a pizza and sat at the island by myself. There was a couple sitting at the other end of the island, but I didn't talk to them much. Mostly, I just watched the door and waited for LaptopGirl.

She arrived at 9:00 or so. I got to help her fact-check an article she's writing. That was very cool. It's nice to feel useful.

We talked for a while until EuchreDude came and horned in on sat with us. I because invisible for an hour or so, until after they'd moved to the living room area. I followed mostly because to remain where I was would have felt slightly more awkward.

Eventually, I managed to get LaptopGirl's attention again. Mainly by plopping myself down on the coffee table two feet in front of her. We talked for another hour or so, but eventually she had to go home.

Oh yeah. Beer.

Let's see, my first beer was a yummy Schlenkerla Fastenbier (308), which has made it's brief Spring appearance. My next two beers were NABC Flat Tyre (749), though I did have a few sips of LaptopGirl's Moinette Brune. It was good, and the next time I have some I'll write a proper review.

That number for Flat Tyre above is an estimate, because LaptopGirl had several sips from my glass as she waited for news from her homefront.

Once LaptopGirl had gone, I went and sat at the kiddie table and talked to WomanRepellant for a while. Then NotHideousGirl came in. She was sad, because her cat had died. Poor kitty.

We somehow got to talking about karaoke, and she suggested going to Sluttopia. I called, and they said that they had a band instead.

Well, we ended up going to Sluttopia anyway. WomanRepellant followed us there, but most of the crowd just went to this Jack's bar closer to Rich O's.

NotHideousGirl became even more sad when, upon our arrival, she was told that one of her friends from there had died a couple of days ago.

The band sucked big hairy ones. I did my best to distract myself from the racket by drinking a Newcastle (9071) and talking to WomanRepellant and NotHideousGirl until they started kicking everyone out at 3:00 or so.

Then I came home.

Then, despite my staying up until after 4:00, my stupid circadian rhythm woke me up at 8:00. And here I sit, looking forward to the wonderful nap I'll get to take in a few hours.

Hmmm, I guess this wasn't as brief as I'd feared.

Last night was the first night of the NABC Gravity Head festival at Rich O's. The busiest night of the year, I'm sure. And the crowd certainly didn't disappoint. Only once, on the first night of Gravity Head a couple of years ago, have I ever seen so many people crammed into that space. It was standing room only, and even finding a stable spot to stand was a daunting task.

But, stand I did. For the first hour or so. I stood at the end of the bar, talking alternately with some dude I sort of recognized, and a half-dozen or so Gravity Head virgins who, for some reason, decided that I would make a good sommelier.

Oh yeah, FirstGirl was there. She's making a pendant out of my rock. She says that she's got it finished, and that I might get it back Saturday night. So I'm very excited about that.

My first beer was a new one for me.

Alvinne Podge Belgian Imperial Stout

(draft) Black in color, with a thin tan lacy head that faded quickly. Aroma of malts and light chocolate and dark fruits. Medium mouthfeel - not quite syrupy. The flavor is fairly tame, mostly malts and chocolate. I like this. Dangerous though, because the high ABV is hidden very well.

Dark Horse Scotty Karate Scotch Ale

(draft) Clear dark amber. Good long-lasting head. No detectable aroma. The mouthfeel is a little watery, and the flavor is mostly roasted malts. A decent beer, but kind of a waste of time. The alcohol was hidden very well, a little too well, I think.

The second interesting thing was that LaptopGirl emailed me to inquire about the crowd. Then a little bit later she came in, and the crowd faded into obscurity. LaptopGirl and I had a pretty weird conversation. Weird, but still good. Always good.

For my next beer, I had myself a Mad Bitch (296). It was very yummy, and it was the real Mad Bitch, not the oak-aged abomination that has been the only version available at Rich O's for the last million years. I enjoyed it a lot, in part because I knew that it would have to be my last beer of the night.

After LaptopGirl left, and the crowd rematerialized around me, I moved up to the kiddie table and talked to SpoonsGirl and her imaginary hot friend for a bit. I watched NotHideousGirl get up and leave without even a glance in my direction. Eventually I just sat and talked with SpoonsGirl about various stuff.

I went to White Castle and then came home at 12:30 or so.

There seems to me a misconception at Rich O's lately. I'm sure I've heard this particular misconception expressed before, but I've heard it twice within the last couple of weeks, and so it may be gaining popularity. At least among the cretins.

The first time, it was this one supremely obnoxious guy. He tried to play himself off like he was some kind of uber regular who'd been coming in since the dawn of time, but my personal opinion is that he was just trying to fit in. Perhaps compensate for a tiny penis. Anyway, the fucker was loud and overbearing and totally clueless. He actually seemed to think that people actually liked him. What a dumbass.

So, he spouted his bullshit, and I didn't pay much attention to it. I treated his words just as I'd been treating him all night. I ignored them.

Then, last night another person expressed the same misconception. And this particular person should know better. She's been coming in long enough to know better, and she's also smart enough to realize that we're supposed to be living in a society that's somewhat evolved from the days when being the loudest and/or the strongest brought power.

This particular misconception, and I think I've got the quote correct, goes like this:

Move your feet, lose your seat.

Steal someone's seat, and you're an asshole.

Anyway.

Last night was kind of boring. I only had a couple of beers. A Schlenkerla Marzen (2930) and an Upland Wheat (206). I spent most of the night on throne listening to everyone else talk and choking on cigar smoke. This one dude's hot sister told me that I smelled good, and I'm pretty sure that Ric Flair was there. Other than that, it was a dull night.

Last night wasn't as bad as I'd feared. So I'm thankful for that. But it still wasn't a particularly good night.

Rich O's proper seemed to be only about half-full, but that was an illusion. Every ostensibly empty seat was being saved, so there was no place to sit. I ended up going out to the special people room and sitting there like a dork for an hour or so, until MusicalYuppieDude texted me that this one weirdo had finally left and that there was a seat available.

So I sat on the sofa and enjoyed my second NABC Flat Tyre (593) of the night. At least I tried to enjoy it. My taste buds were still pretty messed-up.

Eventually, LaptopGirl emailed me that she was coming in, so that cheered me up some. When LaptopGirl arrived, HairDude gave up his seat at the kiddie table so she and I could sit together. We talked about various crap for an hour or so. It was nice to see her, as it had been a trillion years. I'd been hoping that she might want to split a pizza or something, because I was starving to death, but instead she went home.

I came home shortly afterwards, not quite finishing my third Flat Tyre (609).

Oh yeah, I got to hear this one story about a slut. I suppose it was an interesting story. Then I was talking to StupidGirl on the phone and she told me another story about another slut. What is it with all these sluts all of a sudden?

This damn flu has taken things to a very personal level, now. Twice.

The first time was Friday night, when LaptopGirl invited me to Rich O's and I had to decline. Yes, that sucked giant donkey dicks. First time in a million asstillion years that LaptopGirl has invited me to Rich O's, and I had to decline. Woe is me, indeed.

The second time this fucking flu got personal was about an hour ago. I'd forced myself into going to Rich O's, because I'm a stubborn asshole and also because it's Pizza Night. I saw, to my great surprise, that NABC Cone Smoker was back on tap.

Yay! My first beer in a week was going to be one of my all-time favorites!

But not so fast there, Speedy. The Cone Smoker (3177) tasted like shit. Not because there was anything wrong with it, but instead because there's something wrong with me. This damn flu has wreaked havoc on my taste buds. And so now even one of my favorite beers is unenjoyable.

And then my pizza tasted like crap, but I was expecting it by that point. Everything has tasted like crap since last Tuesday. I keep feeling like there's some magical combination of herbs and spices that will wake my mouth back up, and make things taste good again, but I just haven't found it yet.

I've been given the green light to return to work tomorrow, at least for a while. I've been sleeping between 18 and 22 hours a day for a week, and so I don't know if I'll be able to stay up long enough to put in a full day of work, but I'll give it a shot.

Early Friday evening I was, as is quite often the case lately, trying to convince myself to do something besides go to Rich O's. I was toying with the idea of maybe going to this Sergio's place I've heard about. I was thinking about maybe going down to our local casino on the river. I even thought about just staying home and watching some movies.

It's just that sometimes I don't get the point of that place, and I felt like I needed a break. Even if it's just to prove to myself that I can take that break. Plus, I'm on-call this week, and that always sucks the life force right out of me.

But then HatGirl texted me that she was on her way to Rich O's, so what little willpower I might have possessed evaporated like spit on a summer sidewalk.

I had to park on the far side of Mars. This was a bad sign. Another bad sign was that there was an unlikely abundance of huge 4WD trucks in the Rich O's lot, all with those lift kit things that make you need a ladder to get into them. It was like Rich O's had turned into a redneck bar. Or that there was a tiny-penis convention taking place. I wondered if they would try to block my entrance.

Inside, the place was beyond packed. I nodded and waved at several people who were sitting around the living room. MusicalYuppieDude, TremensGirl, PlantDude, PearlGirl, PearlGirl's hot friend, probably some other people.

HatGirl and LuckyFucker were sitting at the bar, the only two seats available in the place, so I went over and stood behind them.

HatGirl!

Yay!

After about a million years, two cool things happened. First, some chick left the bar, and I grabbed the seat, Second one of the bartenders caught a glimpse of me through the crowd and took my beer order.

After a bit longer, UPSDude left the bar, so I took my NABC Flat Tyre (463) and slid down closer to LuckyFucker and HatGirl.

After a bit longer, some strangers left the loveseat, and PlantDude left the throne, so we all moved down there.

The next couple of hours were quite pleasant, talking to HatGirl and LuckyFucker. He's finally going to make an honest woman out of her, or vice-versa. I'm happy for them, but I know that the world will mourn when HatGirl is officially and legally off the market.

By the time HatGirl and LuckyFucker left, I was on my third Flat Tyre (503), and I'd moved over to the kiddie table because HairDude had stolen the throne when I went to pee. That was okay, though, I'd been starting to feel a bit claustrophobic because of this one chick from the sofa.

So I was sitting at the kiddie table with TremensGirl. It was a strange conversation we were having. Like we were breaking up or something. But we weren't, I probably just felt primed for that activity because WeirdGirl and I had just broken up over the phone. Something about my priorities and hers not matching up often enough. Oh, well.

Anyway, then LaptopGirl came in and, after TremensGirl left, sat at the kiddie table with me. We proceeded to have a very nice conversation about all sorts of relevant stuff. I had a half-pint of the Flat Tyre (513) to close out the night.

Oh yeah. MusicalYuppieDude said that the band that ArtGirl and I are supposed to see tonight doesn't start until midnight. We'd been told before that they would start at 7:00 or 8:00. So I called ArtGirl to let her know, in case that would affect her plans. She hasn't called back. I'll call her this afternoon.

Oh yeah again. NotHideousGirl came in for a while. She missed HatGirl by about twenty minutes, and I bet she was disappointed by that. It was nice to see her.

It happened twice tonight. While I was watching my tivoed recording of American Idol and drinking a yummy Schlenkerla Urbock (320) and mentally kicking myself for, once again, letting my nap run on for far too long.

I don't even think I dreamed tonight. That's strange, because usually there's something about sleeping on my back, on my couch, that gets the old eyeballs moving rapidly. But not tonight, I don't think.

So, I was sitting there on my loveseat watching mostly bad singers, hoping for a good singer, or at least a hot girl to look at. During the boring parts of the show, I'd think about things. Do some navel-gazing, basically. And twice I was completely overwhelmed. I was completely overwhelmed and nearly incapacitated. The first time it was sadness that washed over me, the second time it was joy. Each time, it was perfect. Just incredible unblemished emotion. The first time a single sob left my lips. The second time, it was a laugh.

Tuesday, I talked to ArtGirl about experiencing every moment. Good, bad, or neutral, all moments of life should be lived and experienced in their entirety. Because they're not going to happen again. Ever. So, may as well pay attention to them. They might be important. They probably are important.

Tonight I had two perfect moments. One was good, the other was bad. I wouldn't trade either of them for anything. Perfect moments are our most precious gifts to ourselves.

Anyway, this all got me interested, so I did a search on my blog for the phrase perfect moment. I found one promise, one declaration, and one memory. I'd have thought there'd have been more. It certainly seems like the kind of thing I'd write about more often.

I think that the whole purpose of this entry was to put that link in. I think that I just wanted to prove that I used to be able to write decent drivel, even if I can't seem to do it anymore.

Sunday night, the pizzeria side of the NABC complex was open for some sporting event. Usually, they're closed on Sundays, so it was a special occasion, and I usually go. Just because it's such a rarity. I really couldn't care less about the sporting event.

Anyway, while I was on the way there, OddlyFamiliarGirl called. I'd texted her Friday night because I had a question about astrology. She's into that stuff, she's just not into returning text messages in a timely manner.

While I was talking, and driving, I happened to glance down at my odometer. I quickly said goodbye to OddlyFamiliarGirl and pulled off the road at the earliest opportunity.

The earliest opportunity, it turned out, wasn't quite early enough.

That there, even though it's really hard to see, is the odometer on my truck showing 100001 miles. I think it would have been cool to get a picture of it at exactly 100000 miles, but it wasn't meant to be.

Here's a close-up. Still hard to see, though.

Once at Sportstime The NABC Pizzeria, I had myself a couple pints of their Old Lightning Rod (490). The place was really dead. I guess nobody cared about the sporting event. Or maybe they were all at some cool party to which I wasn't invited.

So they closed the place down at 7:30 or so. I went over to Tucker's and had some cheesesticks and a glass of Guinness (1783). I'd been thinking about having a steak, but I changed my mind for some reason.

And that was Sunday. Pretty exciting, huh?

Monday wasn't anything special except that while I was at Rich O's The NABC Public House, waiting for my pizza and having a yummy NABC Old Lightning Rod (510), OddlyFamiliarGirl and NotHideousGirl came in for a bit. It had been a million jillion gazillion years since I'd seen OddlyFamiliarGirl. It had only been a couple of days since I'd last seen NotHideousGirl, but it always seems longer when it's her. I just thought I'd better mention seeing them, lest I get into trouble for some reason.

Then tonight it was really warm, so I sat out on my swing and enjoyed a Schlenkerla Urbock (286) and smiled a lot. I thought about all of the times I'd sat out there and thought about sad things, and about how much happier I am now. It really doesn't take much to make me happy. Even the tiniest things can do it, especially when the tiniest things are so incredibly huge to me.

Somehow, I managed to get magically drunk last night. I have a theory about this, and I'll write about it in a bit, but first I should have a disclaimer.

The lines between reality and fantasy and imagination are blurred almost beyond distinction, at least as far as last night goes. So you should probably treat this entry as fiction, just to be safe.

The place was almost empty. This contrasted in a stunningly beautiful way with the madness that Friday night had been. Dina was on the sofa, all by her lonesome like a weirdo or something. I sat on the throne and ordered an NABC Flat Tyre (343). Dina and I bullshitted with each other for an hour or so, then she left to go meet the chick, and I found myself sitting all by my lonesome like a weirdo or something.

A couple of people drifted in and out of the area. They'd come in to smoke, and I could tell that they were all wondering who the weirdo sitting by himself was.

Eventually, the regular Saturday night crowd started to form. This one cute blonde accused me of being 23. That's actually starting to get a little tiresome.

Oh yeah, when I was bored because I was in the living room area all by myself, I texted AlliGirl and WeirdGirl and VigilanteGirl. VigilanteGirl texted back asking who I was. I said never mind, and she called me. I reminded her that she'd given me her number. She said that she would call me for directions to Rich O's, but I never believed that for even a second.

TremensGirl came in and sat on the sofa where Dina had been. I think this was about when I ordered another Flat Tyre (383). I started getting emails from LaptopGirl, hinting that she might come in.

This one chick, who kept coming in to smoke, took one look at TremensGirl and I talking and announced, "You two should date."

So that was weird, how quickly she picked up on our vibe. I said that TremensGirl and I have massive crushes on each other but that things are complicated, and I left it at that.

Then, I had a Schlenkerla Marzen (2828), which was yummy.

After a million more years and a few more emails, LaptopGirl finally showed up. At that point I pretty much started ignoring everyone else in the room, because LaptopGirl and I somehow found ourselves having an actual relevant conversation. People kept trying to interrupt us and/or worm their way in, but for the most part I managed to keep it just between the two of us. It was very nice.

At one point, I looked up, and NotHideousGirl had managed to sneak in. Of course I talked to her as well, but I kept returning to my conversation with LaptopGirl.

I think this was about the point where I got magically drunk. Please note that I'd had three weak beers, over the course of about four hours.

Some dude bought a round of drinks for everyone. I didn't want a whole beer for myself, so I just ended up drinking most of LaptopGirl's free Guinness (1761).

It seemed like everyone left at about the same time, but I stuck around and had a couple Diet Cokes. And I wished that LaptopGirl and I would have shared that pizza we'd discussed, because the room was really spinning. Food would have been nice, but the kitchen was closed.

I ended up taking a cab home from Rich O's. That almost never happens, because it's almost never necessary.

I said, back at the beginning of this novel, that I had a theory about how I'd managed to get so drunk on so little alcohol. Well, my theory is that the alcohol had very little to do with it. I got to have an actual relevant conversation with someone very important to me. This was something that I'd waited years to do. My theory is that I got drunk on that surreal series of moments.

So there.

For the most part, I think it was a pretty boring night, at least until I left Rich O's. It was very crowded. It was very loud. I talked to some people. I drank some beer. I got groped. I think that the most unusual thing about my time at Rich O's last night was that I received the most unsubtle text message ever from this one girl.

I ended up having a pint of NABC Old Lightning Rod (450) and two pints of NABC Flat Tyre (343). All were yummy.

WeirdGirl kept having to work later and later, as usual. So I walked over to this Jack's bar when Rich O's closed. I sat with some of the Rich O's people for a while and had a Diet Coke. Then, out of the blue, my friend Eric called. He was over at Sluttopia, so I went there for a while. It was cool to see Eric and some of his friends from his high school class. Sluttopia didn't live up to its new name last night, though. It was pretty much a sausagefest. They had a band there. I bet if they'd had karaoke there'd have been more girls.

Then at about 2:00 I went over to wait for WeirdGirl to get off work.

This entry, such as it is, brought to you by:

Bluegrass Russian Imperial Porter

(bottle) Pours black, with a minimal tan head that faded quickly. Light aroma of roasted malts and chocolate. Flavor was pretty much the same - roasted malt and chocolate. The finish was a little drying, but otherwise the 11% ABV is hidden very well. A very good beer.

WeirdGirl and I slept until after 10:00. We probably would have slept even later, except my sister called with some disconcerting news. Everything, in the end, so to speak, seems to have turned out well. So that's cool, but it did make for several hours of at least slight trepidation.

After WeirdGirl left, I settled into what's become my normal Sunday routine. Doing laundry. Shooting pool. Watching movies. Glaring at my phone.

But that last thing, I think I did more out of habit than out of any real sense of anticipation. I certainly never expected it to make it's little woo-hoo noise. And, of course, it never did. I was oddly okay with its silence, though. Just like I was oddly okay with the silence than ran through my head all day today.

The silence from my phone was familiar. The silence in my head? Not so much, but still, okay.

See, I don't know what happened, but I have to assume that there must have been a good reason for it. I stated my case, for whatever that might be worth. Nothing changed. So I jumped into my time machine. I was right, it's not so bad.

Anyway, some things are funny to me. They have to be funny, lest they be tragic. And I've got enough tragedy, thank you very much.

The thought that a pretty face, or a sexy body, or a friendly personality - the thought that any or all of these things might be enough for me - that thought borders on hilarious.

There's always something missing, it seems. That thing which is intangible and all-important. That's the thing for which the need permeates me. I've found something to fill that need once, twice, maybe three times. I may never find it again. That would be sad, I think.

Desire is more important than satisfaction. Because you can never really have the latter without the former. If you try, it inevitably feels hollow and empty. It feels like a lie, and for good reason.

WeirdGirl and I talked about this stuff for a while, our breathing still synchronized, in the late hours before sleep took us. We've discussed it before, and it's starting to sink in, the things that I say. She's finally starting to understand me, and her understanding will probably signal the end of this. Whatever this is.

The place was pretty freaking packed. I'd been expecting a big crowd. Friday nights are always crowded, plus they were having another art show out in the special people section. The entire place was packed, often standing-room-only, for most of the night.

But that was okay. MusicalYuppieDude gave me a seat on the sofa when I first arrived, so I didn't have to stand. Also at least half of the non-regulars in the crowd were girls in various stages of hotness. Most of them were hippies, but hot hippies. There also seemed to be a very unlikely proportion of blonde girls.

When I first arrived, I waited in vain for a bartender to make his way to me. I ended up going out to look at the art for a while. As in most art shows, there was some good stuff and some bad stuff. It's all subjective. I didn't see any paintings by either MisunderstoodGirl or NotHideousGirl, so that was a little disappointing.

They also had a small beer stand set up at the art show entrance. On the way back to Rich O's proper, I glanced at the labels on the taps.

Cone Smoker!

Yay!

I guess they'd saved some just for the art show.

So, guess what beer I had.

Guess!

Cone Smoker!

Yay!

It was only a 12-oz pour, into a plastic cup, and it took about 15 minutes to pour it, but it was still yummy (3157).

When I got back to Rich O's proper, I had a brief conversation with LaptopGirl, who I hadn't seen before but who was sitting at the kiddie table with some guy I don't like. The conversation was indeed brief. It consisted of her saying, "Hi," followed by me saying, "Hi."

Oh, how the mighty have, once again, fallen.

My next beer, because I didn't want to have to wait so long for another Cone Smoker, was an NABC Flat Tyre (153). In fact, because of some ordering confusion, I was presented with two pints of Flat Tyre at the same time. So that's all I had for the rest of the night (173).

The group in the living room talked about various stuff for a while, and at one point we found ourselves playing euchre. Actually, we all spent the night trying to teach euchre to this one dude. He didn't have a nickname before, and I'm going to pick HairDude for no particular reason. Also playing/teaching was SmooshDude, and PlantDude.

It was a fun night. At one point PlantDude's fiancé, NiceGirl, took his spot in the game, and NiceGirl and I proceeded to win about 7,999,999 of the next 8,000,000 possible points. NiceGirl and I would apparently dominate the Professional Euchre Tour, if such a thing existed.

It was a fun night.

This entry brought to you by:

Stone Vertical Epic 07.07.07

(bottle) I'm calling this a Belgian because I don't have any better ideas. Cloudy orange when backlit. No foam. An aroma of citrus that was a little bit intoxicating all on its own. Flavor of malts and oranges and light hops. This was a surprisingly good beer, as I usually don't care for citrus. Almost yummy.

Like, I know some girls. I may have mentioned girls from time to time. I look at some of these girls, and I see something indescribably wonderful. But, some people, when they look at the same girls, they see a crazy person, or a whore, or a stuck-up bitch. They see a waste of space.

Sometimes, it's reversed. Sometimes, I'm the only one seeing the bad side of people. It's not very often, though, and I'm probably right about those assholes anyway. It's Everyone On Earth that's wrong, I think.

They see sinister motives where none exist. They see affection where none exists. They see lies and selfishness where none exist.

It's, like I said, fascinating to me. But not in a good way.

Anyway, that's not what I wanted to write about.

For a long time, Everyone On Earth has, at one point or another, told me to get over it and move on.

I envy the people who can do those things. Apparently, they're fairly common abilities. I mean, just look at the divorce and remarriage rates.

Let's ignore for a second the fact that I'm divorced, okay? It's not really relevant.

Thanks.

To review:

Step One - Get over it.

Okay, that's not really a choice, is it? Getting under it, so to speak - that was never a choice, not if it was real. So why should the opposite be true?

Step two - Move on.

Seems obvious to me that step two is doomed to failure unless step one has been accomplished. After all, it hardly seems fair to whoever you move on to. Ask MixedSignalGirl if she thought it was fair, what I put her through. Don't get too close when you ask her though. She bites.

So, the problem is with step one. The whole get over it crap. You manage that feat, and the rest is a cakewalk.

Do cakewalks even happen anymore, or am I just showing my age?

But I digress.

Right off the top of my head, I see three ways to get over it. One way would be, and this would be ideal I think, one way would be to just meet someone new, and be overwhelmed by them. That would be cool, I think. You'd be doing both steps at the same time. It would be all efficient and shit. Maybe you'd get to meet Al Gore, as a sort of bonus, because he likes that efficiency stuff.

Another way would be, and this should really be a last resort only, to just give up. Shut down.

It's weird that you give up but you shut down. There are many more examples like that. Feel free to do your own research. You'll find that up and down have completely cornered the idiom market. You hardly ever hear anything about left or right or sideways. This seems grossly unfair to me. I may vote for the presidential candidate who embraces this issue.

But I digress.

Remember, giving up only accomplishes step one. And step two is going to be pretty fucking tough after you've turned into a robot or a zombie or something else with no emotions or soul.

The third way to get over it is probably the most common method.

Just wait. Hold your breath and suffer and pity yourself and whine all the fucking time, perhaps pour your heart into a blog, and maybe, eventually, things get better. Maybe, eventually, you find that you have indeed gotten over it.

After that, you can feel free to move on. But not before. I cannot stress this enough. Step one must be completed before step two can succeed.

For those keeping score at home, I'm still fucking awake.

I went to Rich O's after work today. More out of habit than any particular desire to observe Pizza Day or have a beer. But it's cool that I went in, because after a few sips of Upland Wheat (126), I saw that NABC had tapped their Old Lightning Rod a couple of days early. I traded the rest of my Upland for a pint of the Old Lightning Rod (250) and it was very good as always.

---

Today I counted up the vacation days that I've used since May, when our fiscal year started. I've still got a buttload of days left to take. To help rectify this situation, I'm taking this Thursday and Friday off. So, because Monday is a company holiday, I'll get a five-day weekend. What will I do with this five-day weekend? Probably not a damn thing.

I need to take a week off sometime this Spring and go somewhere. Las Vegas is my obvious first choice, but I'm also thinking about maybe going up to Seattle instead. I haven't been there since 2002, and I find myself thinking about that place, and those people, quite often.

---

Oh yeah, this morning it snowed like a motherfucker for about an hour. Flakes the size of 50-cent pieces. It was quite pretty, and I got a little excited that maybe it would accumulate. But alas, it melted on contact with the ground. I'm not a huge fan of snow, but I detest cold weather, and snow at least makes it bearable for me. They're saying that it might snow here Thursday, but I suspect that's just a ploy to get us to watch the evening news.

---

Funny, I thought I'd have more to write about tonight.

Last night was supposed to be completely different than it was. I was supposed to have a date with WeirdGirl, but it kept getting delayed and delayed and delayed because, well my theory is it's because her boss is an asshole.

So I went to Rich O's after all, at about 7:30. The parking lot was totally packed. I ended up parking on Mars. During the long trek back to Rich O's, I began to really dread the crowd that I was sure waited inside. But I was pleasantly surprised and very relieved to see that it wasn't that bad at all. The special people room was full of PBDs having a party or something - that's why the parking lot was so full - but Rich O's proper was only about a third-full.

I sat on the throne and ordered an Upland Wheat (123) and talked briefly to the makeout couple sitting on the loveseat.

For the next hour or so I kinda vegged out. My phone kept going off about various work emergencies and, because this is my on-call week, I had to respond to every text message that came in. But I got over it. I talked to MusicalYuppieDude. He says he's going to give me some doohickey which may allow me to mess with my electric guitar in my actual living room. Instead of in the far corner of my basement. So that will be cool.

At about the time PearlGirl came in with her hot friend from a few weeks ago, WeirdGirl texted me that she'd been delayed again. I was going to order another Upland, but the keg had blown, so I had a Pyramid Snow Cap (90) instead. It was yummy.

There was some dude at the kiddie table sampling all of the beers that NABC makes, and since I couldn't talk to PearlGirl's hot friend (she was busy talking to PearlGirl) I talked to him instead. It's nice when strangers aren't assholes. It's also quite rare, but that's part of what makes it nice.

At about the time I finished my Pyramid, and ordered a Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier (2323), WeirdGirl texted me again to say she was going to have to work until closing. So that sucked. I'd turned down an invitation to go to my sister's because of my date, and now it wasn't even going to happen until at least 2:00. But then I remembered that I don't get cell phone reception at Dina's, so I couldn't have gone anyway, because of the being on-call thing.

Anyway, at one point I was wandering around talking to some of the PBD girls. We were talking about traveling the world and stuff like that. I said that I wished I'd done that stuff when I was younger, but that now I was too old.

StoreGirl told me, "You're certainly not any older than 30."

So I gave her a hug and told her I loved her.

Then this other PBD girl, who for some reason doesn't have a nickname (It's OldBob's wife) told me, "Well, you're definitely younger than 40."

So I have her a hug and told her I loved her.

The night became a little blurry for a bit. I was trying to decide if I wanted to go to Louisville to wait for WeirdGirl, or to just go home, or to hang out at Rich O's some more. I ordered a Diet Coke and did some mingling.

At one point I found myself in the special people room. I showed StoreGirl my drivers license. It was funny to see the look in her face when she saw how old I was.

I thanked PearlGirl for bringing her hot friend with her. I'm pretty sure that I talked to UPSDude for a bit. I ate an egg thing that wasn't too bad. A little bland, I thought.

Oh yeah, I told ElPresidente about running into that girl who used to ride our school bus. His first question was, "Is she still hot?"

I said that she was indeed.

At 10:30 or so, I found myself sitting at the island, talking with StoreGirl and some other PBDs about various fluff. I know that it was around 10:30, because it was way too late for LaptopGirl to be showing up.

But that's exactly what she did.

Yay!

This is the part where I have to be careful about what I write.

I'd gone out front to talk to LaptopGirl while she looked at the draft board, and when I went back into Rich O's proper, OldBob's wife had stolen my seat at the island. I said that was fine because I was moving back to the throne anyway.

This was about when the bartenders decided to crank the music up to level 10.

So LaptopGirl and I basically screamed at each other for several minutes. I couldn't hear more than every third or fourth word, though, even after she moved to the Loveseat.

So I asked a bartender, as politely as I could, if there was any way that the music could be turned down a little.

He turned the music completely off.

I'd managed to piss off a Rich O's bartender, and that's one of my rules. I'm not supposed to do that.

Anyway, so I picked up my shit, and I said goodbye, and I left. I sent LaptopGirl a text message to apologize. While I was driving home, PearlGirl texted me 500 times to ask if I was okay. LaptopGirl didn't reply at all.

After I got home, I ended up sending an email to LaptopGirl, apologizing again for my abrupt departure. I also texted WeirdGirl to let her know that I wouldn't me driving to Louisville after all.

Then I ate some chicken and went to bed.

I'm too old for this shit. My tolerance for idiots has been plummeting steadily for months, maybe even for years. And my tolerance levels for loudness and crowding were never very high to begin with.

I'm glad that TallLady was in the throne when I arrived. Otherwise I might have reflexively sat there. That would have been bad, because I'd have lasted about ten seconds before I'd have moved again. And I'd have had some explaining to do.

What I ended up doing was sitting at the kiddie table. I tried my best to ignore the incredible noise level coming from the living room area while I enjoyed an Upland Winter Warmer (280). It was pretty good, but I decided that I just wasn't in the mood for anything strong.

When TallLady left, she offered the throne to me. I declined. No fucking way was I adding myself to that obnoxious mix. I could barely hear myself think as it was.

When PhotoDude left the bar, I moved up there. It was still way too loud in the place, but having all of the noise at my back did help a little.

There's this ridiculous pattern that keeps repeating itself.

1. People tell dick jokes very loudly.
2. The bartenders turn the music up so the entire bar doesn't have to listen to the loud people tell dick jokes.
3. People get even more loud so that others can hear their dick jokes over the music.
4. The bartenders turn the music up even louder, so that people in other states don't have to hear the dick jokes.
5. I wonder what the fuck happened to the quiet place I'd grown so fond of.

Anyway, my next beer was a yummy Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier (2296), which I hadn't had in a long time for some reason. It really hit the spot.

I spent a good part of the next couple of hours trading text messages and emails back and forth. I asked MusicalYuppieDude the first question. His answer neither surprised me nor bothered me. Eventually, I expect it to bother me.

UPSDude kept asking me if I was mad at him. He does this all the time, but last night he seemed unwilling to take "no" for an answer. Eventually, he did manage to annoy me by pressing the issue so much.

At about the time I started my second Weihenstephaner (2306), the second question was asked. Then, right after that, MusicalYuppieDude and I got to talking about guitars and amps and headphones, and the third question was asked.

I didn't finish my last beer. It was getting late, and I was in a crappy mood by then, so I paid and came home.

At about 2:30, a fourth question was asked. It was a very welcome question. An invitation, actually.

My answer was, "Try and stop me."

Yesterday was a pretty good day. I took a late lunch, and went to see AlliGirl for a while. For some reason I didn't eat anything, I just had some Newcastle (8533). Then, on the way home, I suddenly got hungry. I was near White Castle, so I went there. It's been months since I went there.

So I ordered my food, and I was standing back waiting for it to be ready, and I felt a tingling. It was my hot girl radar, pinging loudly and clearly. I turned to my left and saw a little blue car leaving the drive-thru.

Driving that little blue car was none other than VigilanteGirl!

Yay!

She saw me, stopped and waved at me through the window, and motioned for me to some outside. Of course I went outside, somehow remembering to open the door instead of just crash through it.

We talked for a minute or two. She gave me her card with her number on it, and said she had to get back to work. I called her a little later, so now she has my number, too. I told her that I didn't want to wait another year and a half to see her, and that we should figure out a way to keep that from happening. She sounded dubious.

But still, it was very cool to see her and talk to her.

---

Then, later in the evening, I stopped at GasNStuff on the way to Rich O's, and VigilanteGirl was sitting in her car talking on her phone. I waved at her, but that's it.

---

Rich O's was crowded as fuck.

I stood around for a while until this one dude finished eating, then I squeezed by him and sat on the sofa. I had an NABC Cone Smoker (3071) and enjoyed it immensely. Other than that, I felt pretty claustrophobic sitting there because it was so crowded. As soon as PlantDude left the throne, I moved there. ArtGirl was sitting at the kiddie table with some dude. I talked to her for a bit, and I chastised her for getting a new boyfriend and not even considering my lovely self for the position.

Next, I had a Smithwick's (1678). I'd resolved that I wouldn't be cutting myself off before 9:00, as I'd done the last two nights, so I was going to alternate between strong beers and tame beers.

This was a nice plan, but it didn't quite work that way. Once most of the weirdoes had left the sofa, MusicalYuppieDude moved over there. We ended up splitting a bottle of Malheur 10 (53). It was fantastic, but it certainly wasn't tame. After that was gone, I had what was left of my Smithwick's, then switched to Diet Coke for the rest of the night.

Then, at about 11:00, at about the time I started to get bored and disappointed with the night, I got a surprise phone call.

I had a couple of hours to kill, so I came home and did a quick straightening-up.

There are two, maybe three people, who are probably wondering what I'm going to write about tonight. I thought that there might be four, but I've decided that the fourth person wasn't listening. Her gain, actually.

I've decided that I'm not going to write shit about what happened to me today. I didn't write about anything leading up to it, after all, so to just spring this on the Internet would only make people yawn. Like it's not a big deal.

Well, screw that. It's a fucking huge deal.

Anyway.

Tonight, I was in an incredibly shitty mood. So shitty that, in fact, I actually found myself wishing against something that I've done nothing but wish for since 2004 or so.

And then, then my fucking wish came true, and so that just adds insult to injury. Stupid me and my stupid wish coming true. Stupid.

I spent the majority of the night sulking at the bar. Some people had tried to cajole me into sitting in the living room area, but I'd have none of that. Too many weirdoes about.

So I sat at the bar. I had a Pyramid Snow Cap (70) then a De Dolle Stille Nacht (76). Both were yummy, but both were also quite strong. So I had a little Dark Horse Tres Blueberry Stout (165) and then I cut myself off. At like fucking 8:30. Sometimes I really hate being a lightweight. Anyway, I ended up drinking Diet Cokes for the rest of the night.

Most of the time I spent sulking, but I did talk to MusicalYuppieDude off and on. And I tried to talk to OddlyFamiliarGirl, but she'd have none of that bullshit. Then I got really claustrophobic because this one PBD was seriously invading my space, so I picked up my shit and moved to the kiddie table.

After another half-hour or so of sulking, I came home.

I've been trying to decide if tonight was a good night or not. You be the judge.

Good: I feel much better, health-wise, than I've felt for days.

Bad: I didn't get to see LaptopGirl, so now it's been two weeks since I was so blessed.

Good: PearlGirl gave me a little card that said I was Hott with two Ts.

Bad: There were a bunch of weirdoes who scared me away from the living room area.

Good: I got a boner.

Bad: I texted the girl about my boner.

Good: There was a girl who I thought might have been a blast from my past.

Bad: She turned out to be the underage daughter of FirstGirl - and I'd never seen her before. She just looked like that other girl.

Good: I had a yummy NABC Cone Smoker (3051) and a glass and a half of yummy Rogue Chocolate Stout (2370).

Bad: I couldn't finish that second glass of Rogue, because I'm a lightweight.

Good: The place was full of random hot girls.

Bad: The place was full of random hot girls.

Good: My pizza was yummy.

Bad: I'd been hoping to split a pizza with LaptopGirl.

Bad: I'm a shithead.

Good: I'm an honest shithead.

Bad: Tonight I missed, in no particular order; HatGirl, MixedSignalGirl, LaptopGirl, SassyGirl, and NotHideousGirl.

Good: I'm excited that I'll get to see AlliGirl tomorrow.

Bad: When I left, I saw LaptopGirl's car in the parking lot, so I should have stayed until she came back.

All in all, I guess the night was a wash.

I was doing fine. I really was. Even though the place was completely infested by weirdoes. My sister Dina was there at first, and she and I talked for a while. After Dina left, I was able to escape the weirdoes in the living room and join the PBDs at the island. I had three yummy Rogue Chocolate Stouts (2336).

I was doing just fine, for several hours, until this one PBD decided to utter the magic words that never fail to piss me off.

It gets blurry after that.

I'm pretty much forcing myself to write something tonight. I don't know what I'll write about. It will probably be boring.

I have a couple of good ideas for entries, but I can't remember what they are. I wrote them in my notebook, though. So I'll eventually get around to them. Maybe.

Today I was supposed to go shopping, but I didn't. All I did was drive around and get pissed at crowds of shoppers and football fans. The latter are the worst, if you ask me. Not that you asked me, but if you had, that would have been my answer.

Anyway, I did something sort of nice yesterday, and it's been ignored. So that bugs me a little. It might bug me a lot except I've had myself a bottle of yummy Left Hand Smoke Jumper (193).

That reminds me. Last night NotHideousGirl asked me how I'd been doing over the eleven gazillion years since we'd last talked. I decided to pretend that she actually cared, and answer her. My answer seemed, at first, to be a load of drivel. But I thought about that answer, today while I was driving around getting pissed at people, and it's making a bit more sense to me now.

What I said was that I was happy for the most part, but that sometimes I was sad. That wasn't the drivel part. The drivel part was when I went on to say that I'd done some sort of weird 180-degree flip. Instead of being a sad person, I was a happy person. Instead of being a sad person who, every now and then, got into a good mood, I was a happy person who was subject to the occasional bouts of sadness.

Wait, that wasn't the drivel part either. The drivel part came next.

What I said was that the contrast between my varying moods seems to be a lot stronger now than it was before. Like, back when I was sad and I experienced happiness, it was noticeable, but nothing spectacular. Except for one time back in May. But now, now that I'm a happy person, those moments of sadness really stand out to me. Affect me. Turn me into an asshole, some might say. Or a dolt, NotHideousGirl might say.

It's contrast, like I said last night. Black spots against a white background vs. white spots against a black background. They should be the same, more or less. But they're not. Not even close.

I have a theory about this. I think that maybe I'm not really happy at all. Maybe I'm just not sad. I hate to use this word, but maybe I'm content. Maybe I'm lying to myself, and recent events have not quite lifted my spirits as much as I've thought.

That would suck, I think. If all I could manage was content. Because, seriously, I don't think things are ever going to get much better than this.

---

Okay, I guess that answers the question of what I was going to write tonight. I was going to write crap, apparently.

Ta-Da!

Yesterday we had snow and sleet and freezing rain here, pretty much all day. This was strange, because Al Gore keeps saying that won't happen.

I spent my day at home. Messing with a web page design for LaptopGirl in between power outages. I'd planned to do my Christmas shopping, but I didn't feel like dealing with the idiots on the roads. They're bad enough even when the weather's good.

Anyway, a few times in the past, when it's snowed, people have been known to puss out and cower in their homes instead of going out. And, when Rich O's is really dead, they'll close up early. I was a little fearful that they'd be closing early last night, so I went there very early. Like at 6:00 or so. I figured that if it was dead in there I could at least buy a growler to take home.

But it was okay. The place was fairly full. A bunch of people I know were in the living room area, and for some reason they saved the throne for me. So that was nice of them.

I had myself a pint of NABC Cone Smoker, and enjoyed that immensely while I talked with TremensGirl and MusicalYuppieDude and NotHideousGirl. NotHideousGirl and I have agreed that we will each pretend that we share fault for our crumbling friendship. This is a good compromise, I think.

At about 8:00, I remembered that it was the Ides of December, so I got myself into a bad mood. I briefly toyed with the idea of just going home. Actually, I obsessed over that idea for quite a while. But eventually I decided to just have another Cone Smoker (2881) and stop being a baby.

At one point during the night, I observed this conversation:

I will never understand women.

I had the brilliant idea to text BikerGirl and invite her to Rich O's. I'd thought that maybe having NotHideousGirl and me both there might be enough to entice her. This thought helped to slow the descent of my mood, and I ordered another Cone Smoker.

But then I remembered that BikerGirl was working.

I drank about 2/3 (2895) of my beer, but I saw no point in staying any longer, so I came home at 10:00 or so.

Last night, I was late getting to Rich O's, having gotten caught up in some work bullshit exciting opportunity that took longer to resolve than I'd hoped. I didn't get there until after 9:00, an hour after HatGirl had texted me inquiring as to my whereabouts. I feel bad for making HatGirl wait - she does enough of that already.

When I first arrived, it was pretty crowded. So I stood at the end of the bar and chastised PearlGirl a little for almost getting me into big giant trouble the other night. PearlGirl had some cute girl in tow. I forget her name.

Anyway, after some strangers left, and after some preliminary seat-shifting, I found myself in the throne. I had myself an NABC Naughty Claus (43) and talked with HatGirl and LuckyFucker for a while about various nonsense. I also watched the door a lot, out of habit more than out of any sense of optimism.

At about the time HatGirl and LuckyFucker left, I ordered a second Naughty Clause (63). I like this year's version. UPSDude had moved to the loveseat at some point, and I spent the next hour or so babbling to him.

That was pretty much it. The place was only about half-full for most of the night, and it was almost all strangers.

I had most of a glass of Schlenkerla Marzen (2289) and came home a little after midnight.

I'm feeling much better, thanks for wondering. It's always like this with me. I get all worked up over something and then, well I suppose I get it out of my system. Or maybe I just get used to it.

I guess I'll just go back to what I've always done. I'll wait. I'm good at waiting, and I'm pretty sure that my wait won't be in vain. Eventually, something good will happen.

---

A guy at work shot himself this morning. It's in the paper, so I guess I'm allowed to mention it here. I didn't know the guy. I just knew who he was. I imagine that a lot of people would say exactly the same thing. Maybe that was part of his problem.

I fully support a person's right to end their own life. To choose when their life will end. We get so few real choices as it is. But I don't support shooting yourself at work, where someone will have to find your body, and where someone will have to clean up the mess, and where someone will be traumatized. It would be much better, I think, to just disappear and never come back.

---

The other day I had this totally brilliant idea for an entry. For an article, actually. If I ever get around to writing the thing, and if I do as good of a job with it as I'd like, it may end up being my main contribution to mankind. That would be cool.

---

It's hard to stop counting days. I count the days until something good, or I count the days after something good. Because, right now, I have nothing specific to look forward to, I'm mostly counting the latter. Then, when that number gets high enough, I get to freak out a little. So maybe I do have something to look forward to.

---

Yesterday it took, I shit you not, an hour and a half for my pizza to arrive. And then, when I finally got it, it was ice cold. So much for enjoying Pizza Night.

So today I went back to Rich O's after work for another attempt. Rogue Chocolate Stout is back on tap finally, so I had one of those (2196). Right before I finished that glass, I got a little reckless.

Dave's Smoked Chocolate

(mixture) I mixed Rogue Chocolate Stout and NABC Cone Smoker in a 1:1 ratio. I'd been expecting these two very different flavors to elevate each other to new heights. But that's not what happened. They pretty much cancelled each other out. Good thing I didn't waste too much beer with this experiment.

Today's pizza arrived in about ten minutes, and it was yummy.

---

One of the things that keeps tempting me is the fact that, with about fifteen minutes, I could end all of this confusion. I could correct all of these misinterpretations. I could answer all questions. Now, knowing myself as I do, I realize that I'd try to stretch that fifteen minutes out to like a thousand years, but I think fifteen minutes is all I'd really need.

---

I just thought of something else, but it's worth an entry all on its own.

I'm in a crappy mood.

I'm not allowed to be in a crappy mood, and I'm not allowed to say why I'm in a crappy mood. These two restrictions combine to shove me into an even crappier mood. It's all circular and shit.

I actually wrote a nice little entry about my crappy mood. It stayed up for about eight hours before I deleted it. I hate it when I write bullshit like that.

Anyway.

I got to Rich O's a little after 6:00 last night. This was pretty early for me, but I wanted to give myself the best chance of getting a seat. I needn't have bothered - it wasn't too crowded at all, and seats were fairly plentiful.

I sat on the loveseat for a while. This dude who looks like my cousin Robbie was there with some of his friends. I had myself a Gouden Carolus Noel (50) and listened to them rag on each other for an hour or so. Then I moved to the kiddie table so I could eat some pizza in peace.

My second beer was new to me:

Jolly Pumpkin Noel de Calabaza

(draft) Hazy dark amber. Decent head that faded quickly. Slightly sour aroma. Slightly sour finish. Not much else to it. A decent beer, but not really worth my time. I tried to give half the glass away, but nobody wanted it.

Then some bullshit happened.

Then HatGirl came in with LuckyFucker.

HatGirl!

Yay!

This was about when I had a Brooklyn Black Chocolate Stout (14). It was quite good, and quite strong. So I cut myself off for a while, and had Diet Cokes while I talked to HatGirl and LuckyFucker.

Then some more bullshit happened.

Eventually I found my way to the throne. I sat there and talked to HatGirl and TremensGirl for quite a while. After HatGirl and LuckyFucker left, I continued to talk to TremensGirl for a while. I don't remember what any of the conversations were about. Probably stuff like, "Stop being such a grouchy pussy, Dave."

I ended up having a couple glasses of Schlenkerla Marzen (2263) to close out the night.

Two hours after my dentist appointment, my tongue still lay in my mouth like a dead rat. I began to fear that it might not return to normal in time for tonight's Saturnalia kick-off at Rich O's. The thought of missing the good beer put me in a bit of a funk. Plus, HatGirl kept emailing me to see which beers Saturnalia would have to offer, and when I would be there.

Luckily, magically, amazing, at about 6:30, my tongue returned to life. So I emailed HatGirl that I'd be there by 7:30 and I jumped in the shower.

Friday nights are always busy at Rich O's. The opening nights for beer festivals are also always busy. Roger, via some bizarre decision-making process which I will probably never understand, invariably chooses to start his festivals on Friday nights.

So, it was very crowded. Between all the Friday weirdoes and all the festival beer snobs, the place was already filled-up by the time I got there a little after 7:00. As I made my way into Rich O's proper, I spied a lone open seat at the bar. So I hurried over there, saying hello to TremensGirl on the way. She was sitting on the loveseat.

Once I'd seated myself, and ordered a Schlenkerla Marzen (2195), I surveyed my surroundings. About an even mix of weirdoes, strangers, and regulars. The one weirdo sitting alone at the kiddie table turned out to be PlantDude, so I decided to move there. But then I looked at the sofa and, lo and behold, there was NormalGirl!

She hadn't seen me yet, so I texted her a quick, "Hi, stranger!"

But before her phone could ring, our eyes met, and I had to go and ruin the surprise by telling her that I'd just texted her.

Because NormalGirl is 4,430,087,701.00046 times prettier than PlantDude, I eschewed the kiddie table and moved to the sofa instead, strategically placing myself between NormalGirl and this other hot girl who turned out to be one of her friends from nursing school. I shall call her RahRahGirl, because she's a cheerleader, and that's what cheerleader's do.

So the three of us talked for a while, and all the other guys in the place got jealous. NormalGirl told me that she's been very busy. I said that I understand. If and/or when and/or where our second date might occur, I'm still leaving that up to her.

Oh yeah, NormalGirl told me that I'd just missed my sister, Dina. So that sucked.

At 8:00 or so, HatGirl texted me to ask about the seating situation. Right then, as it turned out, there were a few empty seats in the place. Weird, because it was still very crowded. It was just that a lot of the weirdoes were standing around instead of sitting. Because that's what weirdoes do - weird stuff. So I texted to HatGirl that there were some seats.

Unfortunately, by the time HatGirl and LuckyFucker arrived, those seats were gone. NormalGirl suggested that we all squeeze together on the sofa, but by that time HatGirl was in a bad mood, and so they left after only a couple of minutes. Probably just as well. Had I been squeezed between NormalGirl and RahRahGirl for any length of time, I wouldn't have been able to stand up for a week without getting arrested.

It probably would have been worth it.

Anyway, I spent more time talking to the girls. I had a second Marzen (2212). Idiots and weirdoes and regulars and strangers came and went, but I barely noticed. I was busy. Plus, I felt bad about the HatGirl situation, like I'd let her down somehow. Not a good feeling at all.

Once NormalGirl and RahRahGirl left, at about 10:00 I think, I moved to the throne. I had a third Marzen (2229) and just kinda vegged-out for a while. I found my mood slipping. Everyone was in their own drunk little worlds, and it was too late for me to join in any of the conversations. So I ordered a pizza and came home.

So Wednesday, after WeirdGirl left, I headed on down to Rich O's.

The night before Thanksgiving is typically one of the busiest nights of the year there, and Wednesday night started out looking like it would be terribly crowded. People were double and triple parked in the lot. I parked in Chile and hiked in.

The loser area was packed, and the front area was packed. Rich O's proper actually had a couple of open seats. Yay! First thing I noticed was GlassesGirl on the sofa. So I sat on the loveseat and talked to her and her husband and TallLady for a while. I had myself a Cone Smoker (2396). GlassesGirl kept trying to talk me into writing a novel, and I kept trying to protest that fiction is hard and stuff.

After a short while, LaptopGirl came in looking very pretty in shades of brown. She sat at the kiddie table and I pretty much forgot about everyone else. Eventually there was some shuffling of seats, and LaptopGirl moved to the throne and I moved to the kiddie table. We messed with her laptop for a while. I was very disappointed that an initial scan didn't turn up any spyware. So I'm kinda stumped as to what might be wrong with her computer.

Oh yeah, PlantDude smoked a clove cigarette. The smell made me hungry, and it made LaptopGirl queasy, so we split a pizza. I'm sure that, by then, I was on my second Cone Smoker (2416).

Crap, I almost forgot! At one point I looked over at the sofa, and half of TeamHotness was there! Specifically, UnbearablyHotSingleGirl was there! So I of course talked to her for a bit. She looked fantastic. I asked her where ImprobablyHotMarriedGirl was, and she said she was over at the Sportstime side of the building. So I skipped over in that direction, and I met ImprobablyHotMarriedGirl coming my way!

Yay!

Very cool to see them both!

After my tearful reunion with TeamHotness, I went back to the kiddie table and talked with LaptopGirl some more. The dude who's name I'd gotten wrong had shown up at some point. I talked to him a little just to be polite.

LaptopGirl didn't want to finish her beer, so I choked it down for her.

Barley Island Black Majic Java Stout

(draft) Black with brown foam. Strong coffee aroma. Flavor not as intense as the aroma led me to expect. Not very good at all, but I dislike coffee flavor in beer so I didn't expect to like this. I gave this beer a decent rating (instead of swill) because they seem to have at least tried, and I can imagine some people might like it.

The whole night was very nice.

First, I want to say that I was mostly right about something. I had the date and the time and the circumstances right. All I got wrong was the name of the person. That's forgivable, I think. He was a very minor character in our little show, anyway.

Second, I've been such a big slacker about my Rich O's entries this week. As in, there haven't been any. As in, I've been there the last three nights.

I'll start in the logical place. Monday evening. I'd just left work, and my phone vibrated. My first instinct was that some coworker had some last-minute question or problem for me. So I was very pleasantly surprised when I looked at the phone and saw SassyGirl's picture.

She and JauntyGirl had finally come back to visit! Yay!

So of course I went to Rich O's to meet up with them. It was very cool to see them. SassyGirl hasn't changed. JauntyGirl is a blonde now. We sat around for a couple of hour and talked and did some catching up. I emailed LaptopGirl that SassyGirl was in town. I had two Cone Smokers (2316). When we all left, there was much hugging as they were going off on another of their adventures Tuesday.

Tuesday was virtual Friday for me, so I went to Rich O's at 8:00 or so. I was pretty sure that it was a bad idea to go. I wasn't in the best mood. I told RockGirl that I'd probably end the night either sad or very sad - depending on what actually happened.

I sat at the island and had, of course, a Cone Smoker (2336). I had the island to myself, so that was kind of nice. I waved at OddlyFamiliarGirl, who was sitting with some gay guy at the kiddie table. She was wearing her DaveFest shirt.

Then these three girls came in and sat with me at the island. I didn't know them, but they all seemed nice. At about the time I'd decided that I'd end the night sad instead of very sad something cool happened. SassyGirl and JauntyGirl and SassyBoy came in! The girls had decided to postpone their new adventure for another night. Very cool.

I ended up having another two pints of Cone Smoker (2376) while we all bullshitted about various stuff. At the end of the night, there was, once again, much hugging. I ended the night in an actual good mood.

Wednesday I was off work. I slept half the damn day away, and so I was a couple of hours late for AlliDay at The Pub. But I made it there eventually. I had a couple Newcastles (8201) and talked to BikerGirl for a couple of hours. The place was fairly dead, so that was a good thing for me - more time with BikerGirl!

There. That brings me up to Wednesday night. I think I'll give Wednesday night its own entry.

I know I always say this, but I wasn't even planning to go to Rich O's last night. I always say it, but then I follow-up by saying that I went to Rich O's.

I went to Rich O's at a little after 6:00, because MusicalYuppieDude had texted me that NormalGirl might be there. So I rushed out to my truck, drove about halfway there, then came back home and put on clothes, then drove all the way to Rich O's.

When I arrived, MusicalYuppieDude told me that I'd missed "her" by five minutes. Whoever it was. Might not have been NormalGirl at all - all MusicalYuppieDude had to go by was a grainy picture I'd sneaked with my phone's camera the night I'd met her.

I texted NormalGirl and asked if she'd been at Rich O's. No response, but that could mean a lot of things. First thing on my mind, of course, being that I've somehow blown it with her and will never see or hear from her again, perhaps that a restraining order is in the works even as I type this sentence. That's the fun way that my mind works.

Anyway, the place was pretty full of weirdoes, but luckily the kiddie table was available, so I sat there. I had, of course, an NABC Cone Smoker (2246) and I, of course, glared at the weirdoes.

I noticed ArtGirl sitting over at the stand-up bar - she'd drug a chair there. So I went and talked to her for a bit, and invited her to join me at the kiddie table. She politely declined and continued to write in her notebook. Probably a restraining order.

OddlyFamiliarGirl came in and sat with me, and I spent most of the rest of the night talking with her about various stuff. It was all nice and pleasant, even though some of the topics covered were anything but nice or pleasant. Also, LaptopGirl has been looking for OddlyFamiliarGirl, so I emailed the former about the latter's presence. No response, and another possible restraining order.

At about the time I got my second Cone Smoker (2266), my friends Eric and Teri came in. Surprise! I was very glad to see them. Last time had been for my nephew's funeral in August. So I talked with them until they left to go do something or other.

I rejoined OddlyFamiliarGirl at the kiddie table and talked to her some more while I had a third Cone Smoker (2286). I see that Cone Smoker has moved into second place on my all-time beer consumption list. It passed Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier by 7 ounces, and it trails Newcastle by only 5,875 ounces. Not that anything will ever catch Newcastle. Availability + Yumminess = Supremacy.

OddlyFamiliarGirl moved up to the bar to talk to Roger, and I ended the evening just as I'd begun it - alone at the kiddie table. Also, I'd got a text message from HatGirl, but then something happened to my phone and a lot of my messages were lost. This put me in a bad mood, so I came home.

Last night, Rich O's was fairly full, but it seemed empty for a couple of reasons. Reason the first was that there were several actual parking spots available in the actual parking lot. Reason the second was that just about all of the people there were either PBDs or at least regulars. So no idiots or weirdoes. So that was cool.

One of the PBDs had the throne, so I sat at the kiddie table with my first yummy Cone Smoker (2206) of the night. I exchanged a few pleasantries with some of the people in the living room, but for the most part I just vegged out.

Oh yeah, TremensGirl was there. She'd said a while ago that she wouldn't be back until at least December. I'd said that she'd cave before November was over. So I'd win that bet, if we'd actually bet anything.

Nothing happened for a long time. I emailed LaptopGirl that her BFF was there. I resisted the urge to text NotHideousGirl or NormalGirl. I talked to the regulars and the PBDs. At one point GrammarLady "lost" her purse and there was an impromptu Keystone Kops skit as everyone searched for it. It was found, eventually, in her car. Duh.

Then FirstLady gave me the throne. That was nice of her. TremensGirl said something about the universe being right again.

I had a second Cone Smoker (2226) at one point, then I got annoyed by one of the regulars, so I cut myself off lest I say the wrong thing. Again.

This one PBD wanted to buy me a beer, but I had to decline. Three Cone Smokers would have been too much for me last night. The offer was certainly appreciated, though.

Anyway, I ended up coming home at 11:30 or so. Kind of a pleasant night, but also kind of a waste.

I stole this from a thread at fark.com. I want this on a t-shirt:

Took too long of a nap tonight. Might have slept all night except my phone Woo Hooed at me at about 11:30.

A message from LaptopGirl!

Woo Hoo!

Anyway, this morning I was in a bit of a pickle. As far as I knew, I had about 83 cents to my name, and I was nearly out of gas. So I had the brilliant idea to actually check my bank balance instead of just assuming that I was broke.

Almost $94 in there, on the day before payday. I've been eating dirt for the past week for nothing, it seems.

So I was able to gas up my truck and make it to work. Later, with my newfound wealth, I was able to go and observe AlliDay at The Pub. BikerGirl got her hair cut off and dyed slightly red. She looks hot. I told her that it was like I'd discovered that she had a hot twin sister.

I ended up having a pint and a half of Newcastle (8139), and a dude from work paid for it.

Then, after work, I went to Rich O's and had a Cone Smoker (2128). While I was there, Bubbles came in, and she'd messed with her hair as well. Went from blonde to completely black. A huge difference.

I was talking with NotHideousGirl's ex-husband, and this one chick I never saw before. The subject of hitting a deer on the road came up, and I mentioned that I'd met MixedSignalGirl when she'd hit a deer while driving in front of me. The chick I never saw before said that she'd hit a deer once, too. Turns out that the chick and MixedSignalGirl have the same name.

Weird.

Now, after my nap that ran on for way too long, I'm wide awake at 1:00 AM. I'm having a glass of Cone Smoker (2146) in lieu of anything with caffeine, so I hope I'll be able to grab some sleep in a couple of hours.

Not much to report today, so I'll make this brief.

After work, I went to this Hitching Post bar, where my dad used to hang out. I was going to have a disgusting Falls City in his honor, but they didn't have any, so I had a disgusting Bud Light (336) instead. I drank it straight out of the can, like Dad would have done it.

After that, I went to Rich O's and had a yummy Cone Smoker (2108).

I couldn't afford a pizza, so this week's Pizza Night is postponed until Thursday.

I told you this would be brief.

It was a pretty decent night, I suppose. Quite crowded, partly because of this big meeting the PBDs were having, and partly because there were a lot of strangers all over the place. But about half of the strangers were pretty women, so that made it bearable.

I arrived way earlier than normal, hoping to catch LaptopGirl, but I was too late for that. I grabbed a seat at the kiddie table and ordered a Cone Smoker (1994).

My night consisted of sitting at the kiddie table, enjoying my beers, and talking with StoreGirl and/or FirstGirl, as one or both of them would frequently come in and sit with me for a while. MusicalYuppieDude was at the bar, so I did talk to him every now and then.

Other than those people, and the main mass of PBDs who mostly stayed out front, I didn't recognize a single person in the place. Oh yeah, except for HopGirl. She came in and sat with some people in the red room. I went over and talked to her briefly. I think she did something to her hair, because she was looking disconcertingly pretty. Oh, and ArtGirl made a brief appearance before she moved out front. Ditto on the pretty thing.

I think that's about it. I ended up drinking a couple more Cone Smokers (2024), then I went and said goodbye to ArtGirl, and I came home at 11:00 or so.

I got to Rich O's early, about 7:20 or so. I hadn't really been planning to go at all. I was just going to sleep and wake up whenever I woke up. But then HatGirl texted me that she was at Rich O's. So I went to Rich O's, even though I was very tired, because, duh, HatGirl!

Also, Thursday I went there after work and saw this bit of loveliness on the board.

I asked Roger when he thought it might be available, and he guessed that it would be around the first of December.

So, imagine my surprise and glee when I went in on November 9th and saw this.

Cone Smoker was on tap! Yay!

I went into Rich O's proper and sat on the sofa. I said hello to everyone around me. MusicalYuppieDude, some dude without a nickname, LuckyFucker, HatGirl.

HatGirl!

Yay!

Then, after about 10 minutes, I realized that none of the bartenders were going to ask me what I wanted, so I went up to the bar and ordered my first Cone Smoker in 18 months or so (1936). It was a little darker than I remembered. More malty, and not as bitter. Quite yummy, though - that hadn't changed.

I ended up having a second one (1956) then most of a third one (1974) before my stupidity irritated me to the point where I became unfit for human company. At that point, I came home.

I don't feel like writing anything.

Today was Wednesday, otherwise known as AlliDay. One of the highlights of my week, when I can sneak away from work and go have lunch at The Pub and talk to BikerGirl for a bit. Work has been crazy lately, but today I did manage to spare an hour. I had a nice Newcastle (8109) for lunch, and talked to BikerGirl for a bit.

At the end of the day I got my hairs cut, then I stopped at Rich O's for a quick Schlenkerla Marzen (2056). I don't think that my spiffy new good mood quite fits in with going to Rich O's after work anymore. I haven't felt happy there after work for a long time.

Anyway, I had a dream tonight. I think I can remember enough about it to describe it. I'll try.

I was at Rich O's. But it wasn't the real Rich O's. It was the same one from this dream. Instead of there being a single living room area, with couches and stuff, there were dozens of them scattered about. I was sitting in one such area when she came in.

Some hot blonde girl. I never saw her before in my life, but she seemed to know me. She certainly acted like she did. Within about 10 seconds after her arrival, we were making out like teenagers. So, pretty much exactly like my waking life. Not.

The blonde girl and I went outside for some reason. I asked her what her name was. "Zwanka," she said.

So that was weird.

When we came back inside, there was a huge crowd waiting to hear some band play, and Zwanka and I got separated. I was looking around for her and I saw a baby sitting on the floor all by itself.

I somehow knew that this was LaptopGirl's baby. But I hadn't seen her anywhere around, and nobody seemed to be paying any attention to the baby. I was afraid that somebody might step on it or abduct it or something. So I scooped it up and started walking around looking for LaptopGirl.

The baby and I talked as we walked around. He was about a year old, but quite a good little talker. He helped me look for his mother, but it seemed that just about every girl in the place had dark hair and glasses, so we kept going on little wild goose chases. It was fun though. I remembered thinking that I hadn't held a baby in a very long time.

Then I saw that Dan was bartending, so I asked him to put the baby up on this shelf behind the bar. That way, if LaptopGirl came in, she'd be sure to see her baby up there. I asked the baby if he wanted to go play with Uncle Dan for a while, and he agreed. So Dan put the baby up on the shelf, and I went looking for Zwanka some more.

I never did find Zwanka, but the next time I glanced at the bar, the baby was gone, and Dan gave me a thumbs-up.

But, Zwanka?

Where did that come from?

Okay, so I was in the restroom at work when it happened. By it, I of course mean that my building burst into flames.

Well, maybe not really. But I couldn't really know that, could I? I was in the restroom, busily doing restroom stuff. There were storms in the area, and there was a very loud crack, and then the fire alarm went off.

I have some questions. If you're taking a shit, and you fear that your building has just burst into flames, what actions should you take before you run screaming from the restroom?

Should you wipe? Pull your pants back up?

Should you wash your hands?

These questions, they haunt me now.

Anyway, it turns out that lightning had struck our building in such as way as to set off the fire alarm, but we didn't find that out for a while. Because it was raining pretty hard, we only mostly evacuated. We went to the bottom floor, near the door but not quite outside the door.

Then all the firemen (I actually do think it was all of them) came and started checking everything out. I texted NormalGirl that I might be late for our date, because my building might be on fire.

Then one of the firemen told us about how our building wasn't on fire, so we went back to work, and I texted NormalGirl back that I'd be on time after all.

---

Later, as I was leaving work, I got a message from NormalGirl that she was on the Sportstime side. So, that's where I went. It's weird on that side.

I'd been hoping that NormalGirl wouldn't wear anything cute, so that I might be able to get to know her better without all the distractions, but alas, she was wearing a cute hoodie and had cute sunglasses on top of her head. But I persevered. We had a nice time, I think. I poured on all of the charm I could muster, and I think we were each genuinely interested in what the other had to say.

It was fun.

Let's see, to start off the evening, I had a Delirium Tremens (1053). NormalGirl was having an Upland Wheat. We shared a pizza and some conversation. For the next beer, we split a bottle of Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier (2279) on my recommendation. She seemed to like it okay.

As the conversation continued, I had a bottle of Schlenkerla Marzen (2022). I had NormalGirl try a small sample of that. She didn't gag, so that was cool.

We have agreed that, since I chose the time and the venue for this date, she will be in charge of the next one. I hope that the next one happens. I like what I've seen and heard so far.

---

After NormalGirl left, I went over to Rich O's and talked to MusicalYuppieDude while I had another Marzen (2039).

I'm a little bit torn right now. There are several things that I'd like to write about. But it's late, and I'm tired. So I have to be very brief.

---

I got to see HatGirl - Yay! - tonight, for the first time in a million zillion gazillion years. It was very nice to see her.

---

There was about a 40/60 ratio of girls to guys at Rich O's tonight. That would be strange enough, but what made it even more strange was that the entire 40% consisted of hot girls. There wasn't a bowser in the bunch.

---

I had four bottles of Schlenkerla Marzen (2006) tonight. All were yummy.

---

There were a lot of weirdoes tonight. Many more than usual. The presence of all the hot girls somehow turned all of the guys into weirdoes. Wouldn't be the first time, but I've rarely seen such outbreaks at Rich O's.

---

Toward the very end of the night, I began to feel some of my recent resolve deteriorate. Luckily, they declared last call before I did or said anything stupid.

---

It was a nice night. I was in a good mood even before I got to see HatGirl, and after that I was in a fantastic mood. A couple of people and events tried to spoil it, but tonight my mood was invincible. I don't expect this invincibility to last very long. The good things never last.

---

Okay, that's it. I'm tired.

I'm dewrinkling some clothes now, so I have a little bit of time to kill. This one stupid shirt probably won't get dewrinkled, and I'll have to iron it. I hate it when that happens.

Yesterday I had a dentist appointment. It was routine, except for the girl who did most of the work. She was far from routine. She was gorgeous. Way too pretty to be working in a dentist's office. I mean, I generally like for any girls sticking their fingers in my mouth to be of reasonable appearance. I wouldn't want some old hag doing it, neither would I want a super-model doing it. At least not in that context, super-models should all feel free to stick fingers in my mouth at other times. And this chick was as pretty as any super-model I've ever seen. Especially when she had her cute little mask on, and all I could see were her incredible eyes.

So I spent all of my time in that chair thinking about baseball, so I wouldn't spring an erection and distract the poor girl as she worked inside my mouth with sharp metal utensils.

The greatest moment that I ever personally witnessed in baseball was several years ago. The Mariners were playing the Indians, and Kenny Lofton had spent about a week calling Randy Johnson a headhunter. When the game started, Lofton was the lead-off batter, and for the first pitch Randy threw a fastball straight at Kenny's head.

A big to-do ensued. There was no fight, but there was a lot of arguing. The umpire gave Randy a warning not to do that again, ever, young man.

Things settled back down, and the game resumed. For the second pitch of the game, Randy threw another fastball straight at Lofton's head, then he walked off the field. Classic.

Anyway.

Last night I went to Rich O's. I hadn't been planning to go, but LaptopGirl wanted me to take a look at her computer. That's not a euphemism. Her computer has been acting up.

So I had a nice pleasant evening talking with LaptopGirl. It didn't seem as surreal as it has lately, so I guess maybe I'm getting used to this new reality. I hope so.

Her computer is running Vista, and it's got some crap wrong with it. I managed to correct one glaring problem, but the rest will have to wait until we can scan the thing for spyware. I'm fairly convinced that's what's causing most of her computer woes. Also, the damn thing bluescreened on us three or four times. I didn't think Vista was ever supposed to bluescreen, and I'd definitely thought that Microsoft would have done away with that particular anachronism by now.

Like I said, it was a nice night. I had most of two bottles of yummy Koningshoeven Quad (722), and I had most of three bottles of yummy Schlenkerla Marzen (1938). LaptopGirl had the rest.

Later, the place turned back into a sausagefest. I stayed around for a little while, though. Talking to MusicalYuppieDude and a couple of other guys. I left just before they started kicking every out.

I wasn't planning to go to Rich O's last night. Or all weekend for that matter. But, after the week I've had at work, I really wanted to relax for a while. Sure, I can relax at home, but it's just not the same. Plus, I think that I was actually fit for human company for a change, and I didn't want to waste that rare opportunity.

The place was fucking packed. Standing room only everywhere, even out in the Special People Room. The crowd was about 99.999% strangers and weirdoes. I recognized a couple of people at the bar. PlantDude and this other dude who looks like my friend Eric's dad. But that was it.

I stood at the end of the bar, ordered an NABC Old Bob's 15B (284), and surveyed my surroundings. It didn't look good. The strangers in the living room area seemed fully-entrenched, as did the weirdoes at the island. But luck was with me, because some dork left the seat at the end of the bar, and I sat there.

I didn't do much of anything for the next hour or so, except listen to PlantDude get progressively louder. Oh yeah, I did get to talk to MisunderstoodGirl for a few minutes, so that was very cool. She was wondering if I'd seen NotHideousGirl at all. I hadn't.

Then LaptopGirl came in, then some strangers left the loveseat and the throne, and we ended up moving over there. She with her obligatory Guinness, me with my second pint of 15B (304).

The next couple of hours were very nice. Even though it was still pretty crowded and loud, I managed to ignore all of the petty distractions so I could talk to LaptopGirl.

Let's see, I had a pint of Guinness (1528) next, in a fancy new Guinness glass that I might have to buy someday. Then a while later I had a half a Guinness (1538) that LaptopGirl donated to me. Yay for free beer!

Once LaptopGirl had gone, I stuck around for a little while and had a Diet Coke. I was thinking about maybe going over to The Pub to see BikerGirl. Her boyfriend's band was playing there. But I really couldn't justify the cost, so I just came home and shot pool until the Sun came up.

The night was much more interesting and wonderful than I've made it seem here.

Since last Wednesday, I've looked forward to several things. Most of those things have come and gone, usually with much less impact and import that I'd envisioned. But one thing has remained in the to-do list I keep in my head.

Last Wednesday, I bought a couple bottles of Schlenkerla Marzen. And they'd been sitting in my fridge until tonight. Waiting for tonight. Waiting for the night when I wouldn't feel like going out, because I'd have to work the next day. For the night when I could sit on my swing and drink yummy beer and contemplate the universe that surrounds me and suffocates me.

Today was a so-so day. I really can't give it a better rating than that. I played Half Life 2 all day, then I went to this country-fried place for my grandmother's birthday dinner. I ended up paying over $3.00 for one french fry, and it was gross. Cold and raw and bland.

After the birthday "dinner" was over, I went to Famous Dave's in Clarksville and had some real dinner. Then I came home, and opened up a Marzen (1509), and sat on my swing and relished it. Then I had another one (1526). Then, I was out of Marzen.

Waaaaaaaaaah!

I think that, the sad thing is, this was probably the highlight of my week. It could have been so much better.

I want a lot of things from this life of mine. Most will prove to be unattainable. But some things, I could have, if only I'd do a better job of planning ahead.

I wish I'd bought more Marzen, when I had the chance. Another bottle would be terrific, right about now.

MixedSignalGirl used to give me shit, if I didn't write something every day. She'd tell me about how she couldn't properly start her days until she'd had her coffee and read my blog. She was, along with many other wonderful things, my muse. Though that's not really the correct word. She didn't always inspire my writings. What she did was inspire me to write. The difference is subtle, but it's still a difference.

Anyway, the other day TremensGirl told me pretty much the same thing that MixedSignalGirl used to tell me. That I should write something every day. I tried to protest that my blog is boring now, but then I realized that being boring just might be a good thing.

I mean, if I write a boring entry, as I'm so wont to do lately, and somebody reads it first thing in the morning, well then they have nowhere to go but up. It's the contrast that's important.

Maybe, just maybe, I provide a valuable public service here, with my boring drivel.

Oh yeah, I spent several hours tonight talking with OddlyFamiliarGirl. She said that she was excited because she might be mentioned in my blog. Far be it from me to crush such lofty dreams, so I have indeed mentioned her.

Also, I had a new beer tonight.

Brooklyn Abbey Singel

(draft) Looks like a hazy pale lager. An odd aroma of what I guess is Belgian yeast. Flavor a bit like a saison, but weaker. It looked so much like a lager that I think I imagined lagerish components to the flavor and the finish that weren't really there. Decent, but that's it.

After that I had a pint and a half of Three Floyds Gumballhead (85) and then a Diet Coke.

It was a boring but pleasant night. Just what I needed after the drama of this past week.

There are certain things in this life that we can just take for granted. Immutable and immobile laws of reality.

Sunrises and sunsets. Death and taxes. Cats are finicky. Water is wet. I don't like hoppy beers.

Today I was at Rich O's after work, wondering about something and enjoying a beer. At about the time I ordered a second pint of the same beer, Roger (The owner of Rich O's) came up to me. Incredulous, he asked, "Do you really like that?"

Since I'd never lie about beer, I had to admit that I did. It seemed to be a bit more citrusy than I remembered, but it was still pretty damn good.

Roger then commented that it was, "Loaded with hops."

I guess I kinda sorta knew that already. It was an APA after all. But this isn't a normal hoppy APA. See, to me, hoppy has always meant bitter - especially in the finish. And this particular beer isn't bitter at all. Nope, instead of the usual piney hops, this one has what I can only call floral hops. I'm sure there's a more technical term than that, but floral is good enough for this humble venue in which I write.

The beer?

Three Floyds Gumballhead (53).

If you think you don't like hops, well then maybe you're wrong.

I know I was.

There's a first time for everything, I suppose.

Having totally failed to learn any sort of lesson about timing from Friday night, I got to Rich O's at 6:00 or so Saturday night. To be just a little less hard on myself, I had been planning to stop at Wendy's for something to eat, but then I remembered that I'd had a pretty big lunch, so I went straight to the bar.

They were having some art show thing in the special people area, so the place was full of weirdoes. Most significant for me was that the living room area was full of weirdoes. So I sat at the island by myself. I had an NABC Flat Tyre (83).

After a little while, this uberhot girl came in, clearly looking for a place to sit. She looked at me and I smiled. She smiled back and asked, "Are you sitting by yourself?"

I said that I was, then I followed with my standard joke. "Hard to believe, isn't it?"

So she laughed, and then she left. I never saw her again.

Oh well.

I spent some time sending emails and making phone calls. I had another Flat Tyre (103). Eventually I went to check out the art show, mainly to see if there was anything by MisunderstoodGirl or NotHideousGirl on display. There was nothing from either of them.

So I tried to call NotHideousGirl about the art show. I didn't have any success in calling her, so I had the brilliant idea to just go and see her. We've kinda been in a fight, and I've been really bothered by that. I figured that I'd do what I could to help mend things between us.

I was all prepared to throw pebbles at her window, but she ruined that idea by answering the door when I knocked.

For the rest of this entry, NotHideousGirl will be referred to as Sicky McSickypants.

Because she was sick, in case the new nickname didn't make that clear.

I talked to Sicky McSickypants for a while, and I drove her to the store so she could get some juice. Then I took her back home and talked for a few more minutes.

I feel like Sicky McSickypants and I are still on the outs, but not as far out. So that's good. I agreed to help her fix her car Sunday morning. Hopefully it's just a dead battery.

Anyway.

So I went back to Rich O's and sat in the throne, because the weirdoes had cleared out during my brief absence. I had myself a bottle of yummy Aecht Schlenkerla Marzen, and then MusicalYuppieDude and I split another bottle (1546).

One thing about art shows. Besides attracting weirdoes like moths to a flame, they also attract lots of pretty girls. There'd already been the uberhot girl earlier, and usually that would satisfy the Rich O's quota for the night. But not last night.

At one point, this other uberhot girl came in and looked around wildly. I called out and asked her what she needed. Hoping that she'd say she needed a 42-year-old man to take her home and ravage her.

But no, all she wanted was to know where the restroom was.

Never have I moved so quickly. I jumped from the throne, levitated myself over the loveseat, and landed gracefully at the girl's side. Taking her hand, I told her, "It's kind of hard to explain. I'll just take you there."

Yes, I really did that. Then I led her to the restroom, and I asked her if she thought she'd need any help finding her way back. She promised to call out if she got lost.

And so that made two good deeds that I'd done that night. The first being when I went to check up on Sicky McSickypants.

Talk about satisfying a quota.

Then, for some reason, I found myself babbling on and on to MusicalYuppieDude about various upcoming events. I'm fairly confident, however, that he won't go around blabbing. I still wish that I'd kept my mouth shut.

While I was babbling to MusicalYuppieDude, yet another uberhot girl came in. She came right over to me and sat at the kiddie table. She showed me her bar bill, and said something about how she wondered if I could do something about this one $23.00 item. I promised to do what I could do.

What I could do, well pretty much all I could do was give the ticket to the bartender and tell him that the uberhot girl with the cornrows had some kind of problem with the $23.00 item.

But that still made three good deeds for me, all in the space of about three hours. I was exhausted.

I also went out and told the girl that (a) I didn't work there, and (b) I'd brought her concerns to the bartender's attention, and that (c) I really liked her hair.

Then I went back to the throne and talked to MusicalYuppieDude and TremensGirl and TShirtDude for a few minutes, then I came home.

It was a pretty fun night. I found out this morning that, had I just stayed up for another 10 minutes, it could have been a great night, because I missed an email that came in 10 minutes after I went to bed.

I had this brilliant idea. What made it brilliant was its utter simplicity.

I'd sit at this computer, and I'd write an entry.

---

Ta-da!

Wait, does this even count as an entry? Have I written anything, really?

Not yet, I don't think. Needs more cowbell.

---

I took the day off work today, and I didn't do shit except go to lunch and talk to BikerGirl for about thirty seconds. And drink a Newcastle (7745).

---

I can't help but wonder if I'm doing the emotional equivalent of nesting. Just cleaning house, getting everything nice and ready for what's coming. Or for what I hope is coming. As if I'm capable of telling the difference. Or of admitting to myself that there is a difference.

---

I'm in a really good mood now. I blame this particular good mood on the yummy Allagash Grand Cru (89) that I've been drinking since I came home. Before I came home, I had a couple pints of NABC Flat Tyre (63), but Rich O's was such a sausagefest that I left before 8:30.

---

I think that I want to be a part of something special. No, wait. I am part of something special already. What I want is to share something special with somebody special.

---

I've read this Blink! book a couple of times recently. If you ignore the thinly-veiled racism of the author, it's a pretty interesting book. It basically says that we should all trust our instincts. My instincts tell me two things, right now. I'm ignoring or at least discounting one, and I'm practically betting my life on the other.

---

I had another paragraph up there a few seconds ago, but I deleted it. They weren't very nice, the things that I wrote.

---

I'm thinking that certain people could use some lessons in empathy. I mean, who are certain people to judge if someone is hurting enough, or feeling pain the right way? To fail to recognize sorrow doesn't mean that it's not there. Everyone deals with pain in their own way, and sometimes denial is the only tolerable option.

---

There. I hope that's enough cowbell, because I'm kinda tired of writing.

Made a quick stop at Rich O's after work. Not really worthy of an entry except for this new NABC beer that I tried:

New Albanian Flat Tyre

(draft) Clear dark copper in color. Decent head that faded quickly. Aroma of molasses and hops, and flavor more of the same. The finish was much more smooth than the flavor indicated. I liked this beer a lot. Easily one of my favorites from NABC.

Anyway, as long as I'm typing an entry anyway...

I sat at the bar because there were weirdoes in the living room area. I had a small sample of the beer reviewed above, then a full pint. FirstGirl came and joined me for a bit. I talked to her about possible ways to make a necklace out of my rock. She's some kind of professional jeweler or something. She had some interesting ideas, and she promised to bring some demos to show me later.

Other than that, I pretty much just sat and drank my beer. TremensGirl's BFF was one of the weirdoes in the living room area, and I did my best to tune him out. Didn't have much luck though, so I bailed as soon as my glass was empty.

I never said this would be an exciting entry.

I spent the first half of Sunday not doing a damn thing worth noting. That's my privilege, and I don't regret it.

Then I spent an hour or so out messing with my Monte Carlo. The engine wouldn't turn over, so I had to hook the battery charger up before it would start. I guess maybe my battery has gone bad after all. Oh well, that's not a big deal compared to the water pump that I still hope to have replaced before I die of old age, or even compared to the window switch that continues to vex me.

I picked up the half-dozen or so pieces of the broken switch that I could find, and sometime this week I'll return them to the person I bought the switch from. I've been promised a replacement, but I'm not feeling very optimistic. For now, I've gone ahead and put the original switch back in, because at least it works, even if it is a pain in the ass to use.

After I'd let the Monte Carlo run for a half and hour or so, just to keep things lubricated, I put it back into the garage and went into the house.

That's when something good happened.

I got to spend almost two hours talking to MixedSignalGirl. Until the battery on her phone died. It was just incredibly good to talk to her. It was exactly what I needed.

(By the way, Dina. Remember that girl who was afraid to ever even meet you? She sends all her love and condolences to you. Trust me, that's a really big deal.)

So I spent a fantastic couple of hours on the phone, then I spent a horrible couple of hours as, once again, the truth of the (lack of a) situation between us ripped fresh wounds into me. But it was, overall, pretty fucking wonderful to talk to her.

Then, at about 6:00, I went to this Mac's bar to meet up with SassyGirl and JauntyGirl and EuropeanDude. We had a very nice and pleasant time together. I had some Newcastles (7605) and we all got to see The World's Craziest Guy in action. That guy is probably worth an entry all on his own. Maybe I'll do that some other time.

Okay, fine. I'll write something. Don't particularly feel like it though. Plus it's mostly irrelevant. And boring. You've been warned.

---

Friday, I took a day of vacation, as I had a bunch of shit to do. I guess I did the mandatory things, such as re-register my cars and have lunch with NotHideousGirl. The car thing went much more smoothly than I'd expected because I found out that they've discontinued the emissions tests here. So that was cool. Lunch was fairly smooth as well, though there's still something wrong between us. Something that's not quite definable but still noticeable and disconcerting and irritating.

Anyway, at lunch I had a couple pints of Newcastle (7521) and then a Diet Coke while NotHideousGirl and I talked and pretended that nothing was wrong. Oh yeah, I also got to see BikerGirl for the first time in a couple of weeks. So that was nice.

While we were sitting at The Pub, my phone rang. Vibrated, actually, but whatever.

It was SassyGirl! Yay! But I sent her to voicemail because I didn't want the first time I'd seen NotHideousGirl in two weeks to be interrupted.

So, after lunch, I went and took care of some more shit, then I stopped at Rich O's. I ordered a Spezial (1712) and called to check my voicemail.

SassyGirl is in town! Yay and yay!

I called her and she said that they'd come to Rich O's and meet me. The "they" ended up being SassyGirl, JauntyGirl, and some European dude who I never saw before. So I gave SassyGirl a huge hug, and I gave JauntyGirl a medium-sized hug, and I shook EuropeanDude's hand. It was all quite touching and moving.

SassyGirl and I got to talking about some of the changes that had taken place at Rich O's since her last visit. The most noticeable being the new pint glasses with the NABC logo on them, and the sampler trays with their miniature NABC glasses. She hadn't seen the sampler trays, so I asked FutureDude to show us one.

I guess I wasn't clear enough, or FutureDude didn't hear well enough, but instead of just bring a tray for us to ooh and aww over, he bought a full sampler tray. Complete with six beer samples.

Oh well, right? Beer is beer. Couldn't let it go to waste.

I ended up drinking the samples of NABC's Croupier (8), Bob's 15B Porter (124), and Community Dark(224). And I didn't hate any of them. The Bob's especially seemed to have undergone yet another transformation since I'd had it last. It was quite good.

I ended up having another Spezial (1732) before SassyGirl and team left to go to some HickFest in my hometown. Then I came home and took a nap.

---

Friday night I was, not surprisingly, hung-over. It wasn't so much the quantity of beer I'd had earlier, it was the mixing of all those different styles. So I went to Rich O's and sat on the throne and had a few Diet Cokes. Once I felt better I had a Spezial (1752) and then a Paulaner (409).

There were people there and stuff, but I never really felt like talking to anyone, so I didn't.

---

On Saturday I went to The Pub to see BikerGirl. I had lunch and a Newcastle (7541) and then a BBC Jefferson's Reserve Bourbon Barrel Stout (521). I also bought the DVD set of Heroes season one, and I'm pretty excited about that.

---

Saturday night, Rich O's was about half full. That was the good news. The bad news was that the crowd that was there was about 90% weirdoes. Luckily, the island was unoccupied so I sat there. I had a Spezial (1772). After a while, the weirdoes ran TremensGirl off the sofa so she came and joined me. We talked a couple of minutes before WomanRepellant came in and joined us. Sure enough, TremensGirl moved back to the sofa at the first opportunity.

(I just left out a very relevant thing that I did.)

So I talked to WomanRepellant for a while and had another Spezial (1792). Once he'd gone, and once The Weirdo King had vacated the throne, I moved over there and sat. Mostly I just listened to TremensGirl and this one blonde girl talk about how they think various celebrities are smoking hot. How they managed to think about other hot celebrities with me sitting right there in their midst, I'll never know.

At some point I had another Spezial (1812) and then I switched to Diet Coke for the rest of the night.

After last-call, TremensGirl and the blonde girl and her boyfriend wanted to go over to this Jack's bar. I wasn't planning to go, but then about 10 seconds after they'd left MusicalYuppieDude came in and he also invited me over there. So I went. I had a couple more Diet Cokes and mostly just listened to everyone else talk.

The blonde girl guessed my age at 30. I gave her another guess, and she guessed 34. So I told her that I loved her, but really I just like her a a friend.

(I just left out several more incredibly relevant things that happened.)

Then I came home and ate some catfish tenders from Famous Dave's that I'd bought earlier and watched the unaired pilot of Heroes from my new DVD set.

---

I told you it was boring.

When I can't and/or won't bring myself to write about anything important, all that left is the unimportant stuff.

It was a quick after-work trip to Rich O's today. Mainly because Monday nights are my pizza nights. Plus, sometimes they have beer there. Or so I've heard.

I got there at 5:30 or so. I checked the beer board, and saw that Marzen was all gone. So that sucked. But there were still four smoked beers on tap, so I figured that I probably wouldn't die of thirst.

At first, I sat at the bar because a group of weirdoes was infesting the living room area. I tried to remember if I liked Spezial or Schlenkerla Weizen better, but I couldn't decide. So I attempted, for a third time, to have a glass of the new NABC smoked beer. This time I managed to swallow three times before killing myself seemed preferable to swallowing again.

I hate that I don't like that beer. I mean, I like rye beer, and I like smoked beer. But combine the two? No, thank you. It still sounds good on paper though.

What I ended up having was a Schlenkerla Urbock (67). A little stronger than the Marzen I'd been hoping for, but I figured that I needed something stronger to wash my mouth out after what I'd just tried. The Urbock was quite yummy, and it was just what I needed.

At about the time my beer arrived, TremensGirl and IForgetHisNameDude came in. The weirdoes were still in the living room area, so they sat at the kiddie table. Then the weirdoes all left, and I moved to the throne. TremensGirl and IForgetHisNameDude stayed at the kiddie table and talked. Probably about football.

After a half-hour or so, during which I ordered a pizza and finished my beer, I got up and went back to the bar to pay my tab. I'd been out of my seat for less than a second when TremensGirl and IForgetHisNameDude zoomed from the kiddie table to the loveseat. I don't think that the cushion on the throne had even had time to lose the impression left upon it by my ass.

Clearly, they were waiting for me to leave the area. Clearly, to them, I was a weirdo! And they'd avoided sitting with me just as I'd, not an hour earlier, avoided sitting with the weirdoes who'd been there when I came in.

So after I'd paid my tab and picked up my pizza, I threw a big turd in their fan. I went and sat down on the sofa and *gasp* started talking to them.

Oh, the horror!

Of course they denied that their sudden relocation had anything to do with me. But I knew better. I clearly and distinctly heard the sonic boom that they created when they moved from the kiddie table to the loveseat.

This is another reason that I am the way that I am.

I thought briefly about fucking with them some more, by staying and eating my pizza and ordering another beer and *gasp* talking to them some more. But I didn't because I'm pretty poor this week.

Then, when I got home, I saw that my pepperoni and sausage pizza was instead an artichoke pizza. So I didn't eat any of it, and now I'll probably starve to death. But at least I won't die of thirst.

My weekend started out nicely enough, Friday after work, when HatGirl's dog bit me. And it was one of the nice dogs. Okay, I guess they're all nice dogs, but two of them are regular nice and the other is super-spazzoid nice to the point of being mean.

It was one of the regular nice dogs that bit me. Didn't break the skin though, it just bruised my palm.

Anyway, then I went home and took a nap. I didn't set my alarm because I wasn't really planning to go out. I just figured that if I woke up in time, I'd go out, and if not, I wouldn't. But I did wake up, and while I was getting dressed and stuff TremensGirl texted me to let me know that the requisite band of Friday weirdoes had just left Rich O's.

That was pretty good timing, I think.

I went to Rich O's and had a couple Schlenkerla Marzens (1249) and talked to TremensGirl and MusicalYuppieDude until they started kicking everyone out. Then I came home and sat on my swing and had another Marzen (1266) and drunk-emailed NotHideousGirl.

So that was Friday.

On Saturday, I spent an hour or so out working on my Monte Carlo. I'd bought a new power window switch for the driver's door (the thingy on the old one had snapped off) and so I took my door apart, put the new switch in, and put the door back together. Imagine my dismay when, upon testing the new switch, I found that it didn't work for shit. It wouldn't control the driver's window at all, and it would only open the passenger's window but not close it.

So that sucked.

What sucked even more was that, when I started taking my door back apart to, I dunno, check the electrical connection or something, the entire new switch assembly exploded into about a dozen pieces of deadly shrapnel.

I spent the bulk of my Saturday, after that, either shooting pool downstairs or watching the rest of my Lost season two DVDs. I was going to take a nap but, as usual, my cats started fighting so I couldn't sleep.

Then, at 6:30 or so, I went over to this O'Sheas place in Louisville to meet up with my sisters and their families. Later, we were all going to a tribute gig being put on by my nephew's friends. The O'Sheas part was just to have a couple beers and eat something.

I had a couple small classes of Newcastle (7439) and about three bites of some disgusting chicken tenders that were about 90% breading. Then, we all went over to this Tailgater's place to listen to Cory's friends play and sing. They're all really talented. At Tailgater's, I was very pleasantly surprised to see BBC Nut Brown Ale on tap, so I had three small glasses of that (100). It was yummy and malty, just like I remembered it.

Once I got bored, I came home and sat on my swing and had a Marzen (1283) and drunk-texted TremensGirl for a while. Oh yeah, I drunk-emailed StalkerGirl too.

Dedicated stalkers will, of course, recognize that this is where I live.

Between my house and my detached garage? That little structure is my swing. One of my favorite things to do on the warm nights is sit on my swing and contemplate various things. So, Saturday night, hoping to somewhat salvage my mood, I got myself a Left Hand Smoke Jumper (100) and went out to my swing to do some contemplating.

Right behind my swing is a tree. You can probably see it in the picture. Anyway, As I sat down, I heard this rustling from under the tree. My eyes hadn't adjusted to the dark yet, so I couldn't see anything. Then I heard the rustling again. Closer this time.

"Kitty kitty?" I asked hopefully.

Then there was more rustling, and something, some thing ran under the swing and across my driveway to the front of the house.

And it wasn't no damn kitty.

From what little I could see about its size and the way it moved, I'm guessing it was a big raccoon. Or a small grizzly bear.

Yes, it freaked me out a little. Rabies probably wouldn't be a fun way to die. Being mauled and/or eaten probably wouldn't be that great either.

Okay, when I was sitting at Famous Dave's this evening, having some yummy catfish tenders and a yummy Newcastle (7327), I noticed this coaster under my glass:

This struck me as being really funny. Because whoever made this up probably thought it was a good slogan which would cause lots of Miller Lite to be sold.

Anyway, I turned over the coaster, and found this:

And this struck me as being even funnier. Because saying Best American-Style Light Lager is kinda like saying swilliest swill or pissiest piss.

Somebody needs to tell these Miller people, who keep bragging about this award, somebody needs to tell them that American-Style Light Lager is NOT a classification.

It's a diagnosis.

When I woke up, I remembered that they were starting a new beer festival at Rich O's. And that there would be three smoked beers from Schlenkerla on tap at the same time. And that NABC was unveiling a new smoked beer of their own. So I still didn't eat, because there was just no time for stuff like that. I just went straight to Rich O's. I got there at about 7:00, and I got to park in the main lot for a change.

It was about halfway crowded in there. I sat at the bar and ordered a half pint of the new NABC beer. Honestly, I didn't like it even a tiny bit. But I'm going to give it another try before I write an official review.

TallLady and MusicalYuppieDude were sitting on my right side. But they were talking with some people standing on my left side. This made me very uncomfortable, as TallLady's voice had to drill through my skull to reach its intended recipients. That discomfort eventually evolved into a little panic attack. In an attempt to stave off a full-blown attack, I picked up my shit and moved to the kiddie table. Then I went into the restroom to splash some cold water on my face, and when I came back somebody had stolen all of my shit. Luckily, it was just one of the bartenders thinking that I might have left.

So I got my stuff back, ordered a Schlenkerla Weizen (239) and waited an hour or so for the attack to subside. It really sucked. I hadn't had a panic attack since May. But it did eventually subside, and I felt a little better. I felt a lot better when some weirdoes left the living room area and I could move to the loveseat.

Back when I first started coming in to Rich O's, one of the bartenders tried to kill me. Well, last night I tried the Schlenkerla Urbock again, and revised my review:

Aecht Schlenkerla Rauchbier Urbock

The first time I had this, I wasn't very impressed. Now, four years later, I see that my palate has become sophisticated enough for me to recognize this for what it really is. A truly great smoked beer. Can best be described as a more intense Marzen.

Oh yeah, speaking of very cool, when I came back from the restroom to the scene of the crime, there was a hot girl sitting next to MusicalYuppieDude at the bar. I didn't recognize her at first, but it was TremensGirl, with a sassy new hairstyle. She looked fantastic, and we all told her so, many times.

Let's see, I ended up chasing my half pint of Urbock with a full pint (47). Eventually this one dude left the throne so I moved there. I ordered a Spezial (1572) which was also on tap for the festival.

Various people came and went and talked about various crap. Eventually TremensGirl came and sat at the kiddie table so we could talk about stuff. Like how I need to be more animated.

We seem to have developed this disconcerting habit of talking with our faces just inches apart. In our own little world, whispering secrets to each other. It's really quite nice. As the night went on, I found myself becoming more fascinated by her lips with each passing moment. I mean, they were right there and I couldn't take my eyes off them.

Like I said, quite nice.

When they started kicking us all out of Rich O's, everyone else left to go to some other bar that I can't stand. So I came home and finished my new Orson Scott Card book.

My day started after about three hours of sleep, at the unholy hour of 7:00, when I got up to do some last minute pre-cleaning because VacuumLady was going to be there in the morning. Of course, after I'd showered and done that pre-cleaning, I saw the email telling me that she wouldn't be there until the afternoon.

But by that time I was already committed, and it was too late to try to get any more sleep. So I left. I paid my water bill and got a haircut and dicked around Louisville for a while. Then, at 11:00 I went to The Pub and talked to BikerGirl and waited for NotHideousGirl. I'd promised to buy lunch for the latter. Because I'm nice.

Had a Newcastle (7295) and then another one during lunch. I wasn't very hungry yet, so I didn't eat. Accordingly, I was only going to have a half glass of Newcastle next. But BikerGirl challenged my manhood - or maybe she just wanted to get me drunk - and so I ended up having a second full glass (7315).

After NotHideousGirl went back to work, I went to Red Star to wait for BikerGirl to get off. I'd bought some books at Borders, and so I sat at one of Red Star's outside tables and read part of my new Orson Scott Card book and had a yummy Paulaner Hefeweissbier (392). By this time, I was getting a little hungry, but I figured I'd wait for BikerGirl.

BikerGirl arrived at 1:45 or so, and we had a pleasant little talk and late lunch. I still didn't eat anything, because they fucked my quesadilla order up. But it's not like I was starving. I was more tired than anything else. Once this, my second lunch of the say without eating, was over, I went back to The Pub and had a Diet Coke. Then I came home and took a short nap.

All day yesterday I was craving these catfish fingers from a place called Famous Dave's BBQ in Clarksville. I'm not sure who this Dave guy is, but I'm pretty sure he's never had his own DaveFest. So I'm clearly the real Famous Dave.

So at 6:00 or so I went to said BBQ place and had me some yummy catfish fingers. I had a bottle of Newcastle (7275) with them, and I bought a couple more orders of fish to take home.

Rich O's was packed with strangers. Or fucktards, as I kept calling them. I tried for a while to sit at the island with some weirdoes, but most of the night I stood at the end of the bar (called the g-spot for some reason) and glared at the people in the living room area. Turned out that they were all from the New Albany High School class of 1971. Whoopee.

Anyway, I stood at the end of the bar and had a couple pints of Rogue Dead Guy (486) and glared at people. Then after a while NotHideousGirl's sister, OddlyFamiliarGirl, came in and stood with me. I talked to her for a while, and I traded text messages with NotHideousGirl.

Then, because I'm nice, I took some cigarettes and a gluten-free beer to NotHideousGirl. We talked for a while, then I came home and ate the rest of my catfish fingers.

To finish the night, I sat on my swing and almost managed to finish a pint of Dead Guy (504) from a growler I'd bought the other day and then forgotten about.

I don't have to work until Tuesday. I'm actually pretty excited. Not sure about what, though. I mean, I'll probably just go to Rich O's every night and wait in vain for something to happen. I'm probably just excited about getting to sleep in for a few days.

Anyway, I went to Rich O's tonight. I got there at about 7:00. I hadn't planned on getting there that early, but neither had I planned on my cats Buddy and Nugget declaring jihad on each other while I was trying to take an after-work nap. The sound of their hissing and growling always cuts right through me.

So I got there a couple of hours earlier than I'd planned. I got to park in the official parking lot, and it was pretty dead at first. There were a couple of strangers at the bar. MusicalYuppieDude was sitting with more strangers at the island. Some dude who kinda looked familiar was in the throne. I sat on the sofa and had a Rogue Dead Guy (408).

For the longest time, nothing happened. After KindaFamiliarDude left the throne I moved there. I had another Rogue (428). I sent a couple emails to RockGirl.

After another hour or so this one dude who looks like my cousin Robbie came and talked with me for a bit. Then FirstGirl came and sat on the loveseat. We talked about various fluff for a while, so that was nice.

I ordered another Rogue.

At about 10:00, a bunch of PBDs came and sat all around the living room area, and they started talking about football. So I got bored very quickly, paid my tab, and left. I didn't quite finish that last glass of beer (446).

Oh yeah, one cool thing was that I got a message from BikerGirl. Actually, it was an email saying that she'd left a comment about my spider entry.

Anyway, kind of a boring night. I think the best part was when I got home and I got to sit on my swing and contemplate the universe for a while. That's always fun.

There was drinking, certainly. And conversation, absolutely. I got the crap flattered out of me by a girl who wasn't completely drunk off her ass. I got to see my sister, Dina, smile for the first time in two weeks. I got to see HatGirl and NotHideousGirl at the same time in the same place. I got to see a dog wearing sunglasses. MusicalHippieDudeMusicalYuppieDude and I split a bottle of yummy Malheur 10 (41). I learned something bad about myself, and I began to suspect something bad about a friend.

I don't want to say that none of that stuff mattered to me. Because it all mattered. But I don't think that any of it mattered as much as it could have. Or, perhaps, should have.

Because through it all, I was waiting. Not anticipating. Certainly not dreading. Simply waiting. Because waiting is the context of my life now. And, not coincidentally, it's also the title of this entry.

On Sunday I spend almost the entire day in my detached garage, working on my dad's old Monte Carlo. When, at 7:00, it finally roared to life, well that was one of the most welcome sounds I've heard in a long time. I let it run for a half-hour or so. I watched the white smoke fade to gray and finally to nothingness. I listened to the motor transition from a very rough idle to a smooth, albeit loud, purr. I watched coolant drip from a small hole in the lower radiator hose and form a spreading green puddle on my driveway.

I did those things and more but, mostly, I waited. After I put the Monte Carlo back in the garage, I took a shower, and I waited. I went to the store to buy cigarettes and Diet Vanilla Cokes, and I waited. I bought dinner at McDonald's, and I waited.

For almost the last three years, I mourned. And that was the context behind everything in my life, every word of every entry in this journal. Behind every word I said and every thought I had and every action I undertook, I mourned.

Now, I don't do that anymore. Instead, I wait.

This is better, I think. Definitely easier.

I think I could wait forever. Sometimes I think that it might be best if I did wait forever.

Because, I know that if the waiting ever ends, then the real work begins.

Context doesn't add background to a life. Context defines a life.

A Rich O's tonight, they had a thing for this Stone brewery guy. I was just there for my regular after-work beer (plus Monday is Pizza Day for me), and I didn't stay for the Stone dude, but I did have one of their beers.

Stone 10th Anniversary IPA

(draft) Clear copper with a firm white head. Aroma of flowers and bubble gum - very intriguing. Flavor was very complex and hard to describe. There was definitely some lingering hop bitterness at the finish but it was accompanied by the complex flavors so it wasn't overpowering at all. An IPA that I actually like. Wonders never cease.

I'd had a Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier (2226) before that, so I was already over my quota for the evening.

Oh yeah, there a new guy working at Rich O's who looks disturbingly like FutureDude. Same shaved head and glasses and general build. I was referring to him as FutureDude's mini-me but then I heard someone call him Bizarro FutureDude and I think that's the nickname that will stick. It really is quite funny, but I don't think FutureDude shares the mirth.

What I want to know is, why can't they hire more people who look like CuteBartender?

I stole this from somebody at fark.com the other day. I wasn't going to post it because of copyright concerns, but it's just so damn fitting and accurate that I couldn't resist.

Just like I couldn't resist going to Dina's today to see her new kitten.

A new kitten!

Yay!

It is, of course, a comfort kitty, which is one of the best kinds of kitties. It's a Siamese, and it's about the size of my hand, and it likes to meow and climb and sit on people.

I could have stayed and petted that kitten for weeks, but I think that it might have become awkward for my sister's family after a week or so. So I tore myself away, and I tore the kitten from my lap, and I went to Hooter's in Clarksville.

While there, I had some yummy mozzarella sticks and three yummy glasses of Newcastle (7107), then I bought some crab legs and brought them home.

I never said that this would be an interesting entry.

Observant readers may have noticed that there was no Friday Beer Report this week. There's a simple explanation for this really. There was no Friday beer. After work I slept until after 11:00, and I was still in a crappy mood, so I stayed home.

So I'm feeling very disgusted and disillusioned. I'm thinking that I'll coin the word disgullusioned to more efficiently describe this mood. Or maybe disillusted. Whichever term I choose, I get the feeling that I'll be using it a lot.

Since I hadn't so much as stepped outside my house for 24 hours, I succumbed to the peer pressure from the voices in my head at about 6:00 last night, and I went to Rich O's.

It was fairly empty at that early hour. Just some weirdoes in the living room area. I sat at the bar and had a Sclenkerla Marzen (943), which I just noticed has made it to number 11 on my all-time consumption list. That's just in the few months since SteveFest.

Anyway, I sat at the bar for a while. Then TremensGirl came in and joined me. I think I put too much pressure on her almost immediately. I mean, how was she supposed to counteract the disgullusionment I was feeling for her entire species?

Once the weirdoes left, I moved to the throne and TremensGirl moved to the loveseat. Various people came and went at various times. My next beer was a very yummy Baltika 6 (396).

Last night BikerGirl was having a wandering birthday party, and I ended up trading a few text messages with her to see where they had wandered to. They were going to The Pub, so I went over to Louisville. I was early, so I stopped at Hard Rock and tried to talk to CoolHairGirl for a bit, but they were very busy in there.

At The Pub, I had a couple Newcastles (7047) and talked for a bit with BikerGirl and her posse. I watched the clock very closely, and right at 12:00 I gave her a birthday hug and then came home.

Because, as everyone knows, I'm such a people person, I left the throne at Rich O's today and acted as Beer Ambassador to a couple who'd never been in there before.

This couple had come in and announced that it was their first time. The bartender gave them the 10-second spiel - Smoking in the bar area, non-smoking everywhere else, draft beers on the blackboard and bottled beers listed at most tables.

I was sitting, as I said, on the throne. Enjoying a yummy Delirium Tremens (1018). After a while, the new dude came in and sat on the sofa to have a smoke and I talked to him for a bit. I asked him what he and his wife had decided on. He was having an NABC beer, and his wife hadn't decided yet. He admitted to me that it was his wife who was the real beer snob of the two of them.

I went out front and talked to his wife for a while. She likes porters and Belgian beers. So I immediately liked her. We discussed the beers on the draft board - there were a couple of pretty good Belgians that she'd never tried before, and even a yummy porter listed. What wasn't listed, even though I knew for a fact that it was available, was Gulden Draak. I talked her into trying a small sample of Delirium Tremens, but I think she'd already made up her mind and so she had a Gulden Draak. I went back to the throne.

I knew that I wanted another beer, but I also knew that another Tremens would be out of the question on an empty stomach, so I had a small sample of something new to me.

Brooklyn Summer Ale

(draft) Clear gold in color. Good heaping head. No detectable aroma. Tasted like watery grass. Not very good. Not very good at all.

My second full beer ended up being a Paulaner Hefeweissbier (358) and then I came home.

I can't for the life of me remember enough about Thursday and Friday to write about. So maybe I'll write about last night and that will jog my memory or something.

Got to Rich O's very early because I'd thought that NotHideousGirl was having car trouble again and I was going to ride her around give her a ride around town. So by the time I was ready to leave, and I found that she was already at Rich O's having dinner, it was too late to turn back.

Oh, yeah. I spent all day Saturday alternating between reinstalling XP on my home computer, and hacking away at this sludge-filled pipe under my kitchen. The XP install went okay, though I had a pretty big scare at one point when it looked like I'd lost two disk drives. The plumbing work went okay too. My kitchen sink now drains normally. But, at about 4:00 Saturday I found myself covered in nasty gray sludge that smelled like sewage. Between sawing through the pipe, and then carrying the pipe outside, and then banging the pipe on the ground to loosen the sludge, I basically showered myself with that nasty crap for two hours.

And two hours is about how long I spent in the real shower, later, before I began to feel clean again. While showering, I wondered if the sludge would either (a) kill me, or (b) bestow upon me some super powers. More on that later.

Anyway.

I got to Rich O's a little after 7:00, and had a Wostyntje (308) and talked to NotHideousGirl for a while. She was in a shitty mood though, and she left pretty quickly. I moved to the sofa and vegged out for a while. I had a couple more Wostyntjes (328) and then I had a beer that was new to me.

Avery Karma Ale

(draft) Clear copperish amber. Average head that dissipated quickly. Aroma almost undetectable, but of apple peels and spices. Flavor started out very weak, but as my tongue became accustomed to it, I ended up like this beer a lot. A 5.2% Belgian session beer. Pretty damn cool.

Then I sat on my swing and had a Schlenkerla Marzen (705). Then I went to bed.

---

Let's see, Friday night. Hmmm.

Okay, here's something. My sister Dina and her husband Kenny came in for a while. I had three glasses of Paulaner Hefeweissbier (307) and sat at the island and talked to them for a couple of hours. After that I don't remember what I did. I think I texted some people but they were all being mean and not replying. That would explain my Friday night entry I suppose.

---

Because I had Friday off work, I went in to Rich O's on Thursday too. I think it was boring there, except that at one point my friend Eric came in. Also, there were a lot of hot girls around. I don't remember much about Thursday.

Oh, yeah. I had a new beer Thursday night.

Three Floyds Gumballhead

(draft) Had a sample, and was intrigued enough to have a half-pint next. Hazy yellow in color. Good head and great lacing. Aroma was mostly floral, with a touch of the bubble gum scent that was expected because of the beer's name. Flavor was pretty damn good. Intense, but it never quite got to the point where it was overpowering. Not bitter at all. A little weird. I liked it.

---

Okay, I'm all caught up now.

Okay, I just remembered how the conversation shifted last night.

I'd been telling TremensGirl about the crushes I'd suddenly developed on the girl at the island and the cute hippie girl at the bar. And the crush I'd had for a long time on the cute blonde bartender girl.

Those three girls all look very different from each other, and TremensGirl told me that I was weird. Then she was like, "Speaking of you being weird, LaptopGirl blah blah blah..."

Anyway, that's how that topic was broached. Now everyone can go on with their lives. You're welcome.

Got to Rich O's at 8:30 or so. I got to park in the actual Rich O's parking lot. So that was a good sign, but it was a misleading one.

The place was completely packed. With strangers. MusicalYuppieDude was sitting on the throne, I sat at the kiddie table. Neither of us recognized anyone in the place except for each other.

But, at least the strangers brought women with them. So the usual Saturday night sausage fest was cancelled.

My first attempt at a beer was something new to me.

New Holland Black Tulip

(draft) Pale amber, fizzy, good head. All standard for Belgians of this type. Aroma seemed a tad stale to me. Flavor was average but subdued. The finish was very reminiscent of rubbing alcohol. Bitter and drying. I was disappointed with this beer, and I didn't drink very much of it.

Let's see, there was a very pretty girl at the island. She reminded me a lot of LaptopGirl's friend WeatherGirl. She was sitting with a bunch of dorks and hippies though. And there was a very cute hippie girl at the bar with her boyfriend. When I started to explain to the bartender that I might finish the Black Tulip later, the cute hippie girl turned around and looked at me, and I totally forgot how to talk. It came out as something like, "I might sdflhgy sdwoq nnuue lllllllllllllllllllaaaa."

The bartender got the gist though. Then TremensGirl came in and I gave her the rest of the Black Tulip.

We just talked about various crap for a while. Like how I've never thought the simma down now skits on SNL are funny at all. At one point, I don't know how, the conversation shifted to that same old topic. And there were some pretty fucked-up opinions thrown my way. I was, as I said in my last entry, saved from getting all defensive and making as ass out of myself by the unexpected arrival of HatGirl and LuckyFucker.

HatGirl!

Yay!

So I moved up to the island (the strangers there had left) and talked with those two for an hour or so. It was nice.

Once HatGirl and LuckyFucker left, WomanRepellant came and joined me. I'd cut myself off after my second Gulden Draak so I just had a couple Diet Cokes while WomanRepellant and I talked about various crap.

I was going to stop at White Castle on the way home, but I forgot again.

I'm in a much better mood this morning. I got to cross a person off my list. Yay!

People would probably look down on me if they knew just how much value I place in tiny little gestures. And, I know, it is sad that I pretty much base all of my happiness on such tiny things.

But, you know what's even sadder than that?

Basing my happiness on those things, and then they don't happen.

I don't want to go back to those days. It's a fairly constant fear of mine. And fear fuels the funk.

So I got to Rich O's at 8:30 or so, after a quick meal at the haunted Burger King. I should probably have gone to Wendy's or Arby's instead. The meal didn't sit right in my stomach, and that slight nausea only made my mood worse.

The place was packed, and loud. Too packed. Too loud. I wanted to turn around and leave, but for some stupid reason I didn't. I grabbed a Wostyntje (242) and sat on the sofa with MusicalYuppieDude and TremensGirl.

It was loud.

It was packed.

I should have left. I wanted to just get up and leave. I told myself that about every ten seconds.

But I didn't leave. I guess I still held out some hope that something would happen to renew my faith in humanity. If I could only hold out for just a little bit longer, then something would happen and I could go back to being happy.

I eventually moved to the throne, and I had a couple more glasses of Wostyntje (278).

My mood never got any better. Those poor souls around me, to their credit, did a fantastic job of resisting my attempts to suck all of the life out of the room.

I'm sure that everyone was very relieved when I finally left.

I know that I was.

I was just out on my swing, drinking a yummy Koningshoeven Quad (522) and I managed to get excited about writing something. Not anything in particular, though, just a mish-mash of subjects.

I don't like the mish-mash entries. I know that I'm only using them as placeholders. Just so it looks like I'm an active blogger. And I use them to touch upon subjects which really deserve their own entries, but which I'm unable and/or unwilling to write about at length.

For example: Today somebody was somewhere undergoing something. We were a little concerned, but everything turned out okay.

And that's all I can say about that, because it's nobody's business.

Anyway, on with the mish-mash.

---

This morning I was subjected to an interrogation. I evaded the questions as well as I could, but I didn't fool my questioner at all. There are answers that I'm going to have to provide before too much more time has passed. Just to ease some potential concerns if for no other reason. But I need to be able to answer my own internal questions before I can answer any external ones.

Things are complicated, and confusing, and convoluted.

I like it.

---

The ignore game champion of the universe has, apparently, challenged me to another match. I don't know why - her supremacy is undoubted. But I guess I'll play, because I've got nothing better to do.

---

When I was out on my swing just now, that one cat that I call Pete Jr. was there. He was scared of me on the swing, though, so I couldn't get him to come to me.

---

The other night MixedSignalGirl called to let me know that she was moving away Monday morning. Now, she's been gone almost four days. I'm pretty sure that I'm in deep deep deep denial about this. Otherwise I'd be a lot more sad than I am.

I told her everything. About how she's the one. About the rings. She still left. She's still gone. I'm still not as sad as I should be.

---

You guys hear about DeathCat? That cat in that nursing home that predicts when people are about to die?

Pretty creepy stuff, if you ask me.

---

The other day I was accused of being someone's best friend. This was a bullshit accusation, I thought. But, more than that, it put an awful lot of pressure on me to keep doing what I'm doing, and not change a single thing. This pressure is in direct opposition to some other pressure that I'm undergoing. Life is fun.

---

I've been on-call this week for work. This is always a pain in the ass, but this week it's been especially irritating because most of the problems which have arisen have been problems that I can't do a damn thing about.

---

Being on-call also means that I can't go to this dealie that my sister is having on Saturday, because I don't get any signal on my Blackberry at her house. This is annoying enough under normal circumstances - I feel like a caveman or something, being all cut off from the world like that. But when I'm on-call, I must be able to get text messages at all times or I'm screwed.

---

I spend about 33% of my time worrying about one thing, and about 33% of my time worrying about the exact opposite thing. For the remainder of my time, I'm free to worry about whatever suits my fancy.

What the fuck is a fancy, anyway? Sounds dirty to me.

---

I guess that's it for now.

I've used the mosquito metaphor before here. Hmmm, almost exactly a year ago. Weird.

Anyway, I suppose that's a lot of what's going on with me now. Just a bunch of little things, and no overshadowing big thing to occupy my mind.

One thing that I thought about today, as I sat at Rich O's - Rogue Chocolate Stout (2136) - after work, my brow still furrowed, was that I'm starting to see some disturbing parallels. Disturbing because parallel tracks quite often lead to the same destination. And I certainly don't want to go to that place again. Ever.

So that's part of it, certainly. But I also think there's something else. Along with the obvious (to me anyway) similarities, there are also quite a few glaring differences. Problem is, I think, that I don't really notice the differences except every now and then. Just once in a while, I'll remember something. And it kind of hits me harder than it should. Just for a second though.

For example, say you're lying on your back, with a book on your belly. No big deal, right?

Now have someone pick up the book and drop it onto your belly. A little uncomfortable, isn't it? But it only lasts for a second.

Now have that same somebody pick up and drop that book every ten seconds for hours and days at a time.

Well, that's a really horrible analogy. Maybe I should have used the Chinese water torture instead. But you readers are smart. I'm sure you get the gist.

It's not that the differences are bothering me. The differences will probably be what keeps me safe when it's all said and done. The differences don't bother me, but they try to bother me so suddenly and so unexpectedly. That's what's really irritating. Not the differences themselves, but the surprise that they arrive with.

I can't seem to keep any of these things in my head. So I forget. And I start wondering about the similarities. Contemplating the parallels. Sometimes I even catch myself getting excited about the parallels. Then the differences hit me. Repeat ad infinitum.

To summarize, I'm weird.

All day, I looked forward to drinking the last Schlenkerla Marzen in my fridge. It was a nice feeling, knowing that, no matter how boring the rest of my day was, I'd be able to end it with something special.

But noooooooooooo!

Apparently, I drank my last Marzen last night, while Eric was here. So tonight I had a new (for me) Belgian instead:

Chimay Rogue (Red)

(bottle) Cloudy dark amber. Smallish head. Faint aroma of dark fruits and malt. Flavor fairly mild, consisting mostly of apples and plums. A little drying at the finish. Pretty good.

Anyway.

I don't know that I have enough material on any single subject to make an entry about it, so I suppose I'll just list some random crap.

---

At the hotel in Philly, there was some kind of showbiz-people convention going on. I know that television news was represented, because one of the guys I talked to a lot had been a TV news reporter in Chicago for like 38 years. And at least one guy I talked to was some kind of theatre performer or director or something like that.

Wednesday night, I was sitting at the hotel bar. I glanced over at the big TV, and they had The Larry King Show playing. I didn't think too much about it until I looked at the table directly in front of the TV and saw Larry King sitting there.

At least I'm pretty sure that it was Larry King. People always look older in person than on a screen. So it might have been Larry's great-great grandfather instead. Either way, it was kind of interesting.

---

I had a dream this evening about one of my female friends. The dream was disturbing to me. Not, as one might expect, because it was a sex dream. I'm actually used to having sex dreams about some of my female friends. This particular dream was disturbing because it wasn't a sex dream. Instead, it was one of those touchy-feely hugs and soft kisses dreams. And it was very nice and sweet. So, shit!

---

Today I bought a new George Foreman grill and a deep fryer. Then I grilled a couple of hamburgers and cooked some fries. I don't know why I do these strange things. I hate cooking for myself, and I'm perfectly happy going out to eat. So now I've got two new appliances that I'll never use again.

---

Some things in my life are starting to turn around. So I don't have much grief these days. This whole being in a good mood thing is something I might have to learn to accept. No matter how boring it makes the stuff I write.

---

But still, I find myself wanting more. All the time. That desire will probably keep my creative fires burning for a while longer. I hope so, anyway. A life without desire wouldn't be much of a life, I don't think.

---

Tomorrow is going to be a long day. I've got to leave extra early because of the construction traffic, then I've got to stay extra late to give NotHideousGirl a ride home. I'm sure I'll be pretty exhausted by the time I get home tomorrow night.

---

I should try to sleep now.

Ugh. This morning I'm hung-over. Not my fault though. More on that later.

While I was in Philadelphia, I had me some NotHideousGirl and BikerGirl withdrawal symptoms. Nothing too severe, but I most definitely noticed the lack of pretty girls to talk to. So, early yesterday afternoon, I went over and talked to BikerGirl while she worked. I had a yummy Newcastle (6680) while I was there. I was going to get something to eat, but nothing really looked appealing, so I picked up some Long John Silver's on the way home instead.

Later, when I left to go to Rich O's, I invited NotHideousGirl to come with me. She readily agreed, and we got to Rich O's a little after 8:00.

The place was completely packed, with about half PBDs and half strangers. The strangers were particularly annoying because they'd taken over the living room area. So NotHideousGirl and I sat at the island with some semi-regulars and drank and attempted to talk. I had a Rogue Chocolate Stout (2036).

Eventually, the strangers on the loveseat left, so we moved over there. Then, the rest of them left so I moved to the throne. The next couple of hours we just kinda vegged out. I had two more Rogues (2076).

Oh, yeah. Earlier in the night my friend Eric had called to say that he might be up for going out later. So after I took NotHideousGirl home at 11:00 or so I went back to Rich O's. I'd cut myself off by then, so I had a Diet Coke and talked to a couple of people I don't really know. Then I came home.

Eric called while I was on the way home, and I invited him over to my house for a couple beers. I broke into my beer fridge and gave Eric a nice Belgian that I'd been saving. I had a Schlenkerla Marzen (569) myself. I did end up having a bit of Eric's Belgian, but I didn't have enough to base an official review on. Plus, I was pretty tipsy by then.

So we talked for a few hours. We split a small bottle of some smoked beer that somebody gave me a couple of months ago. I liked it, but again, I was in no shape to remember enough about it to make an official review. Eric left at about 3:30, and I went to bed almost immediately.

Anyway, it's Eric's fault that I'm hung-over this morning.

I'm a little hung-over this morning. I don't think it's that I drank too much. It's just that I didn't eat anything all day yesterday except a pack of crackers. I don't know why I didn't stop and eat something either before Rich O's or after. Probably because I'm stupid.

Anyway, I got to Rich O's a little after 8:00, and sat in the throne, and had a Rogue Chocolate Stout (1856). Then I don't think I did anything of import for a couple of hours except text NotHideousGirl a couple of times. I was getting pretty bored, but then HatGirl texted me that she was on her way. That perked me right up. I texted NotHideousGirl that HatGirl was coming, but she was busy.

After a few minutes HatGirl and LuckyFucker arrived. By that time I'd managed to run everyone away from the sofa and loveseat, so those two sat on the sofa and we talked for an hour or so, mostly about hookers I think. This was about when I ordered my second Rogue Chocolate Stout (1876). TremensGirl was there at some point.

HatGirl has apparently been taking night classes on drinking or something. She actually finished her Chimay. LuckyFucker had a Rogue Imperial Porter, and I tried to smell it to see if I wanted one of those next, but the Chocolate Stouts I was drinking had deadened my olfactory nerves, and I didn't smell a thing.

Oh yeah, they were having a 20th anniversary party for Sportstime Pizza in the special people room. I walked through there once but I didn't stay.

The whole damn night was really subdued. After HatGirl and LuckyFucker left I had another Chocolate Stout (1896) and a Diet Coke. I talked to MusicalYuppieDude and WomanRepellant for a while, then I came home.

After a quick meal at Wendy's, I got to Rich O's at 8:45 or so. The place was packed. Seemed to be an even mix of regulars and strangers.

Oh yeah, they finally got their order of Schlenkerla beers in. This was good news, but it caused me a bit of a problem right off the bat.

See, Rogue Chocolate Stout was still on tap. And I have a contractual obligation with my liver to drink Rogue Chocolate Stout whenever it's available. But I really wanted to have a couple of Schlenkerlas at the end of the night, and I knew that there'd be much clashing of flavors if I had the Rogue first.

So I broke my contract, and I had a couple Dirty Helens (202). I sat at the bar and talked to some dude who should probably get a nickname, I got a text message from NotHideousGirl featuring the drunk womanese word wrAnfo and deciphering that word occupied a good part of my brain for the rest of the night. I still haven't figured it out.

I talked to MusicalYuppieDude and TremensGirl for a bit, and some people cleared out from the sofa so I moved over there. I talked with a chick who I shall call FirstGirl. Not, as one might suspect, because she was my first girl, but rather because she was the first person to ever talk to me at Rich O's after I started hanging out there. Anyway, FirstGirl was puzzling over her own little mystery.

She'd found this napkin on the table, and her brain was about to explode from trying to figure out its meaning. We spent some time trying to figure out the napkin, and we spent some time trying to figure out NotHideousGirl's wrAnfo, but we never did decipher either one of them.

My next beer was a Schlenkerla Weizen (222), and I overlapped the last part of that with a Schlenkerla Marzen (547). I wanted to do a side-by-side comparison of the two. I don't think that I can really declare a winner. The Weizen is certainly lighter, and it would make a better session beer than the Marzen. But the Marzen is flat-out yummy.

Even though the Marzen was flat-out yummy, I only drank about 8 ounces of it before I cut myself off and then snuck out and came home. I don't think I missed much, because they'd declared last call at 11:30 even though the place was still totally packed.

I just came in from sitting on my swing outside. I was going to sit out there until I managed to think of something entry-worthy, but it's a little too chilly, so I came back in.

---

At Rich O's today after work (Rogue Chocolate Stout (1826)) I had an idea. What if I took all of the penis-enlargement spam that I get and bought everything they offer?

A couple of inches from a special diet, four inches from pills, an additional 20% from some stretching gizmo. And so on. What if I could add them all up?

I bet that, six months and a couple of thousand dollars later, I could sit at Rich O's and drink beer all day, but I'd continue to get paid because my dick could still be sitting at my desk at work doing my job.

It would be win-win!

---

There's a new stray cat outside. It's a very light gray color. I have named it Ghost, in case I ever see it again.

---

WeirdGirl is being a little mean to me. But I guess that's better than being nice to me. Because nice would remind me of what I'm missing.

---

Not that it really bothers me.

It's kinda funny. Not too long ago I kept trying to convince myself that I was a normal happy person. That deception never worked. These days I catch myself trying to get in a bad mood, and that doesn't work either.

---

Today, for some reason, I thought about this one kid from my youth. Not a friend by any stretch of the imagination, just a kid who lived next to my cousins for a while. So we were kinda forced to play with him sometimes. He was a real dick. He's probably in jail or dead by now. Or he's a billionaire. Man, what a dick that guy was!

---

There's something that keeps becoming more of a possibility all the time. Something that I should really be more worried about than I am. But I'm not worried about it very much at all. This may end up biting me in the ass.

---

I can't believe it's 1:00 AM and I'm still up. This is pretty stupid. Especially since I have to get up at the butt crack of dawn again tomorrow. I'm giving NotHideousGirl rides to work as her car woes continue unabated. It's nice to feel useful though.

---

If you ever want to see something funny, go to Rich O's when Roger is there and say something about how 8664.org wants to tear down I-64 in Louisville.

---

I was watching Big Brother tonight (shut up, I like it) and I got to thinking about a Rich O's reality show in that same vein. I don't think I'd be the first regular evicted, but I bet I'd be in the first five. I know without a doubt who the first evictee would be. And I'm pretty sure I know who'd end up winning it all. At least I know who I'd vote for.

---

I'll be gone all next week. If it's anything like the last time I went to Philadelphia, I won't have any time for anything but work. So I might go as many as five days without posting anything. The world will probably keep turning without my input.

---

Now it's 1:18 AM and I'm still up. I am stupid. I think I'll go to bed as soon as I finish this Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier (2085)

Last night was fun. Weird, but fun. A little disappointing, but fun.

I got to Rich O's at 8:00 or so. The place was packed with strangers. It was like I'd walked into the wrong bar or something. Not that I really paid that much attention to the crowd. I was on a mission. Checking the beer board to see if Rogue Chocolate Stout was really back, or if Roger had just been fucking with me again by writing it on the employee board.

It was there! Yay!

Inside Rich O's proper, there were more strangers. I didn't recognize a single person except GlassesGirl. She was sitting at the island, so I sat with her. She was very relieved to see someone she knew, and I immediately felt pressure to keep her entertained. But after a bit TremensGirl came in and joined us, so the pressure was off a little.

For the next couple of hours I talked with the girls and had a couple Rogue Chocolate Stouts (1706). I got a million text messages from various people, including HatGirl. I had a million phone calls from various people, including HatGirl.

After a while some other regulars started showing up and joining us at the island. I started to get a little claustrophobic, but there wasn't anything I could do about it because the fuckers in the living room area were still showing no signs of ever leaving. But NotHideousGirl came in for a bit so I talked to her and that made me feel a little better.

I think that's about when I had my third Rogue Chocolate Stout (1726).

After NotHideousGirl left, the strangers finally left the living room. So I high-tailed it over to the throne where I could get some breathing room. Everyone else, of course, followed me over there. Or maybe they were going there anyway.

Once MusicalYuppieDude came in and stole all the women from me, I had a fourth Rogue Chocolate Stout (1746) and then came home.

It really was fun. I got to talk to a lot of pretty girls. I got to see NotHideousGirl. I got text messages from HatGirl, and I got to talk to her on the phone. I was pretty disappointed that ArtGirl didn't come in. And BikerGirl had said that she might even come in, so I was pretty disappointed when she didn't show. I think it would have been funny to watch BikerGirl demolish some of the wannabe pickup artists at Rich O's.

But it was still a fun night. I think that I might have been a tad too honest in a couple of the conversations I had. I'll just have to wait and see if there are any repercussions.

I'll admit it. I'm not ashamed. I'm not embarrassed.

I like girls. Especially hot girls.

I will go out of my way to see them. To talk to them. To do other things with them, when the chemistry and timing is right. This does not mean that I'm an asshole, or a bastard, or a player, or a male chauvinist pig.

It means that I'm a normal straight single guy.

Like today, I went to lunch. I had a yummy meal, and two yummy Newcastles (6479), and I talked to a pretty girl. If BikerGirl hadn't been working, I might have turned around and gone somewhere else. If BikerGirl was an 800-lb geriatric paraplegic with bad body odor, I'd probably have gone somewhere else in the first place. Like to Lucky Strike maybe. There are pretty girls who work there every now and then.

Appreciating female beauty and company is not a fucking crime against humanity.

It feels good to vent sometimes.

There's not really a whole lot to say about Friday. Though I guess I issue disclaimers like that a lot, and then I ramble on for hundreds of words anyway. I'll try to restrain myself.

Because I had to burn a day of vacation for some stupid thing, I spent a very long lunch at The Pub. Had a couple Newcastles (6439). I was going to eat something. I was going to order fish and chips, eat the fish, and give the chips to NotHideousGirl, but she didn't have time for lunch. So we just met outside for a while. Then I went back in and talked to BikerGirl. Then I went and did the stupid thing.

Later, at Rich O's, I was pleasantly surprised to see that it wasn't too crowded. The throne was empty, so I sat there and talked to a couple of regulars about various crap. I'd thought that maybe Rogue Chocolate Stout would be back, but it wasn't. I had a bottle of Avery The Reverend (476) which was quite good.

HatGirl texted me a couple of times. She's out of town, so that sucks. NotHideousGirl texted me that she didn't didn't feel like coming to Rich O's, so that sucked. Really, the only thing notable about last night was that there was a moderate infestation of hippies in the red room, and they provided some amusement for me. Other than that, it was a pretty boring night. I ordered a Paulaner Hefeweissbier next, but I only drank a little bit of it (152) because The Reverend had pretty much used up my alcohol intake quota for the night.

I came home at 10:30 or so and IMed StalkerGirl for a couple of hours. Then I emailed RockGirl, then I went to bed.

See? I just used 290 words to pretty much say nothing.

My first prediction is that I will wake up tomorrow full of resolve. My second prediction is that my resolve will evaporate by 11:00 or so.

I know what I should do. Or, more accurately, what I shouldn't do. It's perfectly clear in my head. It would be perfectly understandable to anyone, if I felt inclined to explain it.

You ever just get sick and tired of being taken for granted? Of being lied to? Of being used and then discarded? You ever just want to turn your back and walk away?

Yeah, me too.

Tonight, I sat on my swing and drank a yummy Schlenkerkla Marzen (484) while all around me neighbors shot fireworks into the air.

I wrote to my friend that it was like my life in a nutshell. The Reader's Digest version of Dave. Every now and then the sound of laughter would make its way to my ears, adding insult to injury.

My second Marzen (501) went down as smoothly as the first.

Tomorrow, I will wake up full of resolve. By 11:00 or so, that resolve will be gone. Because, by 11:00 or so, I will have remembered three things.

Sometimes, I'm appreciated. Even if it's for one tiny little thing, for one tiny little moment, those snippets of appreciation still give validation to this thing I use for a life.

Sometimes, I'm told the truth. It's happened before, and I'm certain that it will happen again. Eventually. If I can just be patient, and hang on long enough.

Sometimes, I'm merely set aside instead of discarded, and the possibility of being needed again is palpable, and it keeps me breathing.

This entry brought to you by Left Hand Smoke Jumper (75).

I've decided to try an experiment. I'm just going to type. Whatever comes into my head, I'm going to let it flow out through my fingers.

I don't expect this to be anything good. Or interesting. I suppose that I do expect it to be real, though. And that's gotta be worth something.

I'm a sucker for tears from a woman. Wait, that doesn't sound quite right. Because the word sucker implies that I'm being deceived. That I'm being naive. And I'm not. At least usually I'm not. Usually the tears are real.

They cut right through me. Make me want to drop everything else in my life and do something, anything to help make the tears stop. Even if I don't have a fucking clue what I should do or say, the need to do or say something is almost overwhelming.

That's pretty normal, I think. To want to help someone in need.

But then there's the other thing. The realization that something special is happening. The realization that I'm seeing a girl at her most open and honest, and that she feels comfortable enough to share that kind of intimacy with me. It makes me feel a little bit special, and a part of me actually wishes that it would continue for a while longer, so I could feel special for a while longer.

If I could somehow milk the tears. Control their pace and their ferocity to something manageable. Ride that wave for as long as I can, and carry the intimacy that we're sharing along for the ride.

I think that tears are a lot like orgasms. A woman is never more real to me than when she's crying, or when she's climaxing. At those times, she's her most primal self. Her most authentic self. No bullshit. No games. No doubts. Just her. The real her, and she's sharing it with me, of all people.

I want to help. I really do. To turn my back would be just incredibly selfish, and that's one thing I'm not. But what if I can't help? What if I shouldn't help? I mean, maybe I'm just supposed to listen. Maybe I'm just supposed to be there for her, offer a shoulder to lean on, lend an ear, say a kind word every now and then.

I want to help, I really do. But if I can't, if I shouldn't, then I'd still want to be there. I'd still want to share that intimacy. I'd still want to feel special for a while.

I don't think that makes me selfish. I think that makes me human.

Human. Imagine that.

Two fucking fifty three. In the morning.

I'm so tired. I've got so much crap to do tomorrow. I've got to work early Sunday morning.

Basically, I'm fucked.

I won't get anything done tomorrow before I go to my nephew's graduation party. I won't be able to get to sleep after the party, so I'll go to Rich O's or something. Then I'll be up all damn night until it's time to start work.

That's when I'll suddenly get tired.

Anyway.

Tonight was kinda fun. I got to Rich O's a little after 8:00. Had a Dirty Helen (122), then TremensGirl and I split a bottle of Allagash Grand Cru (63), then I had another Dirty Helen (142). When I first arrived, NotHideousGirl was there at the island with OddlyFamilarGirl and MusicalYuppieDude. I joined them for a while, but eventually I moved to the living room for my Allagash. It was a little strange to have to share NotHideousGirl with a group. I've become accustomed to having her all to myself during our lunches. I guess I've been spoiled. As has she.

After a while, ArtGirl came in, and I pretty much spent the rest of the night waiting for opportunities to talk to her, and then taking full advantage of those opportunities once they arose. Had her completely to myself for an hour or so at one point, then we moved to the red room and sat with some people there. That's why I was out so damn late. I wanted to leave, but ArtGirl was totally kidnapping me and keeping me trapped in the corner. But it wasn't so bad. She's warm. She's pretty and nice. So of course she has a boyfriend.

ArtGirl and I not only closed out Rich O's, we stayed almost three hours after closing. Not even during the days of LaptopGirl have I ever stayed there so late. I felt pretty guilty about it, but one of the owners was right there with us, so I guess it was okay or she'd have kicked us out a long time ago.

Man, I need to get some sleep. I'm rambling.

---

Oh gee wowie zowie. I managed a whopping four hours of sleep. Damn circadian rhythms.

There's some shit I forgot to mention about last night.

At one point this one dude and I were talking about mechanical engineers. Specifically, we were talking about how much they piss us off by being so damn smart. I mean, a mechanical engineer could have told us whether our little tower was stable without having to build the thing.

At one point I found myself back at the island with MusicalYuppieDude and PillowDude and PorterBob. They were sampling some beer. I had a very small sample myself.

Nøgne Ø Imperial Stout (2)

(bottle) Black with nice brown foam. Aroma of roasted malts and not much else. Flavor of roasted malts and not much else. Quite a bit of malt bitterness at the finish. Everyone around me was raving about how great this beer was, but I didn't share their enthusiasm. Decent, but no better than that.

ArtGirl asked me how old I am, and for some reason I told her. When she didn't run away screaming, that earned her some points. Not that she needed any more points.

I also found myself writing down my website address for her. I don't know why I do crap like that. Now she might actually read some of this drivel. Just in case, Hi ArtGirl!

I've only got a few minutes to write this thing. I don't know if I'll get it done in time. Normally this is about when I'd be going to work, but today I've got the day off. Yay!

But I still get to leave in about 15 minutes because I'm a nice guy. NotHideousGirl is having car trouble, so I'm giving her a ride to work. Did it yesterday too. You know how I've mentioned before that I'm not a morning person? Well, I'm not. Usually between the hours of 7:00 and 9:00, I might say one or two words to the girls at the GasNStuff, but that's it. Yesterday I talked with NotHideousGirl nonstop all the way to Louisville. Probably do it again today. I'm not saying that it bothers me. It's just a little out of character for me to talk so much in the morning. Or a lot out of character.

Last night I went down to Rich O's for a while. I just didn't feel like sitting at home. I sat on the throne and had a half of a Rogue Chipotle (52). I'd ordered a full pint, but it was so bland and boring that I switched to Dirty Helen. I had two of those (102) and they were very good. So good, in fact, that I've upgraded their rating to yummy on my site. So there.

Besides from brief appearances by TallLady and TremensGirl, and even more brief appearances by WomanRepellant and MusicalYuppieDude. I spent most of my time talking with this one dude who should probably get a nickname. Then after a while a group of weirdoes broke up their meeting in the red room, and OddlyFamiliarGirl came over and talked to me for a while. Apparently, she's a fan of this blog for some reason.

Hi, OddlyFamiliarGirl!

Anyway, I guess it's time for me to go.

This morning, at a meeting, they had breakfast for us. Not that it did me any good. I'd already had breakfast.

But it did provide a bit of comic relief, because everyone was eating strawberries with a knife and fork. One person started it, and before long everyone was doing the same weird thing.

It was a very Seinfeldian experience.

Eating strawberries with a knife and fork is just wrong. They should either be eaten with the fingers, or as I prefer it, smashed onto the belly of a beautiful woman and then licked off.

---

NotHideousGirl and I had lunch again today. I had a Newcastle and a half (6233) and a piece of fish. She had fries.

We've been working on a new code to use between us. Those things that she says all the time, she can just save her breath and just hold up one through five fingers. For example, one finger means that she's sleepy. If we ever progress beyond five common phrases, she'll have to switch to gang signs or something.

---

I completely forgot to give NotHideousGirl shit about her MySpace survey thingy. It's totally full of trick questions.

---

WeirdGirl has decided to give her ex-boyfriend another go. I wish them well, but I'm not particularly optimistic for them. I've heard too many bad stories about him.

Also, I guess now I get to start keeping track of the last time I got to have sex, and hope that the last time wasn't the last time.

---

The new big thing at work is scheduling meetings that include lunch. I've tried to tell these people that I have a standing hot date at lunch, but I don't think they care.

---

That's it for now.

Sunday night:

Aecht Schlenkerla Helles Lagerbier (3)

(bottle) Golden color, minimal head. Aroma of stale hops. Flavor of a citrusy stale lager tamed just a bit by smoke. The flavor wasn't too bad, but the damn aroma was disgusting. I poured most of the bottle out.

Barley Island Dirty Helen Brown (22)

(draft) Dark copper, with huge head and good lacing. Malty flavor with caramel and toffee in there too. Mouthfeel a little thin, but a great-tasting beer. I will look for this again.

Today was pretty boring, as Mondays usually are. Had Lunch with NotHideousGirl and got to listen to some dude in a groovy shirt try valiantly and lamely to pick her up. Talked to WeirdGirl for a minute or two on the phone - she's still not feeling well. Worked on a bunch of disaster recovery plans for work. Talked to my sister Dina on the phone. Went to Rich O's. Had the aforementioned Dirty Helen beer. Bought a pizza. Came home. Watched 10 Things I Hate About You.

I continue to be in a strange mood. I feel like I'm being hit from all sides by things which I don't understand and for which I'm woefully unprepared. So I'm a little bit jumpy. On edge, as I said in my last entry. But not just about the timing thing. I'm on edge about everything. I kind of feel like I'm living a pre-apocalyptic phase of my life, and I need to do something to prevent something terrible from happening.

Weird, I know.

I don't really feel like writing anything, but I guess I will or I'll be annoyed with myself.

This edition of Saturday Beer Report is a little different than others. This one is about Saturday afternoon. There will be nothing about Saturday night because I just stayed home.

Anyway, my first stop was Buffalo Wild Wings for Naked Tenders and Spicy Garlic sauce. I had a Newcastle (6003) of course, but there was something a little off about it. I think that place needs to clean their lines or something. There was a huge storm that tore through the area. Customers and employees were freaking out a little. But all that really happened was the lights flickered a few times. We all survived.

Next I went over to The Pub to see BikerGirl. I had a Newcastle (6023) there, and it was yummy as usual. Also yummy was BikerGirl, but she wasn't feeling well and she left as soon as she got off work, and some dude took over the bar. I spent quite a bit of time talking to this heart surgeon and this older couple about beer. I drew everyone maps to Rich O's. The heart surgeon guy wanted one for himself, and the older couple wanted one for their beer-snob son. I am the unofficial Rich O's ambassador to the world. I should get diplomatic immunity or something.

Next I went to Lucky Strike to see if this one cute-as-a-bug girl was working, but there was some dude instead. So I went to Hard Rock to see if CoolHairGirl was working, but the dude there said she'd called in sick. So I went down to Red Star to see if this one chick was working but it was, once again, some fucking dude. I had a Newcastle (6043) and contemplated the serious lack of female bartenders on Fourth Street.

Every time I go to Red Star they play this John Waite song that makes me miss a certain person, so I sent some emails to RockGirl complaining about my lonely life. I'd been thinking for a week that it was a Bryan Adams song, but it's John Waite who I hate. Hey, that rhymes.

I also tried a few times to call NotHideousGirl. I ended up leaving a message, asking if she wanted to go do karaoke later. Specifically, she would sing and I would listen.

On the way back to The Pub, I popped into Sully's, just to confirm that the bartender there was a dude too. At The Pub, I had yet another Newcastle (6063) and talked to the older couple some more. Then I came home and slept.

NotHideousGirl never did call me back about the karaoke. That's probably a good thing, as my mood has been quite strange for the past couple of days. So I stayed home and watched the American Pie movies after I woke up from my nap.

Pretty damn exciting.

There's some shit going on that I'm not going to write about, but unfortunately it's all I can think about, so I'm kinda stuck with writing random snippets of crap.

---

Rich O's has Rogue Chocolate Stout (1606) on tap again, so yay!

When I went in after work, FutureDude asked me what I wanted to drink. I said, "Let's see how well you know me. What do you think I want to drink?"

My question stumped him. But, to be fair, he didn't know there was going to be a quiz today.

---

There was also a hot girl and her boyfriend there. They didn't know what to drink, and I recommended Weihenstephaner. They liked it, because it's one of the world's greatest beers.

The hot girl looked really familiar to me. I think there's an actress that she reminded me of. Some Asian chick, and it's weird that I was attracted to her, because I have a pretty strong phobia about Asian women.

---

This entire week has sucked at work, but it should start getting better now that an arbitrary deadline has been met.

---

Today, I had to go make an addition to the police report I made the other day, as that bullshit is continuing.

---

My niece messed-up one of my Rubik's Cubes today, and I cried and cried for hours.

---

Not really, I just thought it would be funny to write that.

I solved it in about 20 seconds. It was only a 2x2x2 cube.

---

I've been on a search for a new hosting company for barenada.com. I thought I'd found one, but I cancelled that account this morning because they wouldn't give me access to the web server's error logs.

---

At lunch today, NotHideousGirl was dressed up as a Catholic schoolgirl, and lamenting about how guys keep telling her that she's cute. Well, duh. My grandmother would look cute in that outfit.

There's a dude at The Pub that always wears a kilt. The last part of this conversation didn't really happen because NotHideousGirl didn't think of it fast enough.

---

I can't think of anything else to write.

Yesterday was a long day.

First, I got to go file a police report about some crap. Look for the story on Law & Order in the Fall. I will be playing myself, and I think I'd like Patricia Velasquez to play my love interest. Not that the story really has a love interest, but I'm maintaining creative control here, and I say it needs one. A hot one.

Then I went to Buffalo Wild Wings for my customary naked tenders. They were out of Newcastle so I had a heterosexual Blue Moon (555) instead.

Once she finally got off work, I went and hung out with WeirdGirl. Then we ended up sleeping until about 9:30 when she had to fucking go back to work because of some big bartending emergency.

So, I came home and was debating going back out when HatGirl called.

HatGirl?

Yay?

Damn right, yay!

She'd been thinking about going to Rich O's, even though it was pretty late, so of course I broke all sorts of traffic and physics laws getting there. But it was too late. They were already threatening last-call, so HatGirl wasn't coming. Oh yeah, I had a yummy Upland Winter Warmer (220) while I was there.

When they started kicking everyone out of Rich O's, I texted WeirdGirl. She was still working. So I went over to this Mac's place to listen to karaoke. I'd been thinking that maybe NotHideousGirl would be there, but I think she was still watching her nieces or something.

You know what's weird? When a cute young girl, who you never saw before in your life, follows you into the men's restroom at Mac's and talks to you while you valiantly attempt to pee anyway, then she drapes herself all over you so she can get by the doorman without getting carded.

You know what else is weird? When you're just sitting at the bar, kinda listening to karaoke with maybe half a percent of your brain, and you recognize a voice. Then you turn around and it's your uncle Wayne who's running the karaoke at the place.

I ended up having a couple Newcastles (5740) and talking to various people about various crap, like how rap music always gives me the urge to start killing whities. I tried to talk to PeeGirl, but I'd already served my purpose with her. Her friend actually seemed more interested in talking to me, but she was with some dork.

Then I came home at about 3:00. I was going to go to White Castle, but I forgot.

I was pretty fucking tired when I finally got home last night. Way more tired than I should have been, I think. I mean, the switch back to EDT gave me three bonus hours, so it was suddenly like I'd gotten up at 6:00 instead of 3:00. And I'd had at least three hours of sleep the night before, so WTF?

If I could sleep on airplanes it would be different. But I can't. All I can manage is to sort of zone out for a few seconds until my head falls and then I almost break my neck jerking my head back upright.

So, when I finally got home, I was very tired. While waiting for my luggage, I called my sister to let her know I'd arrived safely. I emailed RockGirl and WeirdGirl with the same message. I texted NotHideousGirl a few times. She wanted me to meet her at The Pub in Louisville. I declined. She called me gay.

So I went home and took a nap for a couple of hours.

I ended up going to Rich O's at about 10:00. TremensGirl moved from the throne so I could sit there. It was nice of her, but I didn't ask her to move. People all think I'm an asshole about that chair.

Still feeling pretty tired, all I had to drink was a glass and a half of Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier (1932). I traded a few more text messages with NotHideousGirl. Most of her messages were incomprehensible to me. I asked if anyone around me spoke Woman, and some of the girls tried to translate, but they didn't understand NotHideousGirl's particular dialect of that odd language. I think it's known as the drunk dialect.

Anyway, at one point I misinterpreted one of her messages as saying that she was at Mac's, so I undertook the short drive over there to see her. But the doorman said she hadn't been in. Then I talked to her on the phone and learned that it wasn't Mac's she was at, it was this Third Street Dive place over in Louisville.

So I came home and typed up a couple of blog entries. NotHideousGirl texted me that I suck. I went to sleep.

The conference ended at 1:00 on Thursday, which was quite cool because it gave me some time to attempt to take a nap. It would have been even cooler if the nap had actually happened, but the construction going on in the room above me prevented any Zs from being caught.

I managed to snap a picture of the construction equipment as it was heading to the room above me. How they fit all that shit into one room I'll never know:

After I gave up on sleep, I took my last bottle of Alaskan Smoked Porter down to the race and sports book place. They were perfectly willing to let me use one of their glasses, but they said that some red tape bullshit rule prevented them from opening the bottle. Then this one dude took pity on me and showed me how to open a beer bottle using a lighter. I've already mentioned learning this valuable skill. The Alaskan Smoked Porter (589) was yummy, by the way.

Then I had a Fat Tire (587) and played video poker and glared at my phone for an hour or so. See, I maybe had a date. I wasn't even going to mention it here, in case it didn't pan out. But I had a maybe date with StupidGirl, because my new best friend had told his girlfriend that I was in town, and then his girlfriend had told StupidGirl. She finally called me at 6:00 or so with the excuse that she just got off work.

For those joining me late, I realize that StupidGirl is a terrible nickname. I would change it to SweetGirl, but StupidGirl actually likes her nickname. She says that it gives her a story to tell. So the nickname stays.

Anyway.

StupidGirl and went up to Fremont Street and dicked around there for a while. We were going to have dinner at Main Street Station's brewpub, but they were out of their Triple 7 Porter, and all of their other beers suck. So, in protest, we ate at this Grill Bar Saloon place. I drank Diet Coke, and StupidGirl had some foo-foo thing.

After dinner, we went back to The Strip and took in the volcano at the Mirage and the fountains at Bellagio. Walking down The Strip holding hands with a pretty girl is still one of life's perfect moments for me. I wish I could do it every night. In front of the Bellagio fountains there was much slaking. I think it was all the gushing of the water that gave us the idea. Some lady took our picture slaking in front of the fountains. I gave her my email address so she can send me a copy.

This part is probably going to seem pretty lame, but nothing reportable happened beyond that. I really like StupidGirl, and I'm going to leave it there. Maybe next time I'm in Las Vegas...

Here's some crap I wrote Wednesday night.

Another Las Vegas Wednesday. Another night when I get to realize that it's the last full night I'll have here for months. Another night when I get to wonder if I could have done more with my week. Well, this time it's more like a certainty than a wondering, and it's more like a lifetime than a week. But, that's just my mood right now. It fluctuates, in case you haven't noticed.

I'm sitting at the Tilted Kilt, drinking a yummy Tilted Kilt (656) and just kind of soaking in the place for the last time. See, it's going away. Probably late this Summer. And I won't be back until November, so tonight is the last time I'll sit at this bar. This sucks. This place has been my main escape and distraction during an awful lot of troubled times. Las Vegas just won't be the same for me without it.

Also, I really like the free shows here at The Rio. Here's a crappy picture:

See, that kind of thing almost never happens back at Rich O's. Not even for DaveFest. Plus, it's kinda funny to see five of the gayest guys on Earth, trying to feign interest as they dance/grope five of the hottest girls on Earth.

Much time passes...

I've stayed here at the Tilted Kilt longer than I'd planned, and I've had more glasses of Tilted Kilt (720) than I'd planned, because I've realized that when this bar goes away, it takes this beer with it. This makes me even more sad, hence the staying and the drinking.

Okay fine, I'll write something. I don't feel like it though, so I'm pretty sure that the quality will suffer greatly.

Yesterday, after the conference sessions mercifully ended, I walked down to New York New York. It's a long walk, but it wasn't as bad as I'd expected. I stuck my head in ESPN Zone to see if this one chick was working. She wasn't. I stuck my head in Nine Fine Irishmen to see if this one Hawaiian bartender was working. He wasn't. So I had a slice of pizza for dinner and watched people idiots for a while.

Then I went to Coyote Ugly to shirt-shop for WeirdGirl and BikerGirl. Coincidentally, they're the same size.

Then I walked over to The MGM Grand and dicked around there for a while. I ended up at this little bar where I had a couple draft glasses of Fat Tire (479). Before my second glass of Fat Tire, I had a small sample of something new.

Peroni (5)

(draft) Good head. The color of very pale piss. Aroma is very slight, and of hops. Probably the palest, definitely the most watery, beer I've ever had. I'm rating this as swill only because it's so inoffensive. Otherwise it would get a rating of piss.

Speakeasy Imperial Wheat (4)

(draft) Clear light amber. Good mound of foam. Smells and tastes like hops and alcohol. Kinda gross, but some people will probably like it.

On the monorail back to The Venetian, there was a hot girl wearing what may be the greatest t-shirt in history:

How dare I wear this fucking shirt in front of your fucking kids?

Back at The Venetian, I tried to take a nap. I was not successful, though, because they're doing some kind of construction in the room directly above me. I hate them, whoever they are.

So I took the free shuttle over to The Rio, and to The Tilted Kilt therein. I sat at the bar and waited for the bartender to recognize me. He did, so that was a bit of validation for me. On tap, they had one of my all-time favorites, Pyramid Tilted Kilt. So yay for that.

I spent the next few hours drinking five Tilted Kilts (640). It's so easy to forget just how good that beer is. I feel a little ashamed for doubting its supremacy.

Besides drinking, I spent time talking with the bartender and a few of the waitresses. It was a fun evening. At 11:00 or so I took a cab back to The Venetian and went to sleep.

Monday morning, circadian rhythms forced me awake a little before 4:00, so I played some video poker and drank diet cokes for a few hours. Yes, I rock.

Then I remembered a couple of cool things. First, there's a free shuttle running between The Rio and Harrah's. Second, there's a monorail servicing the strip.

So, guess what I did.

Guess where I am now? I mean now as I write this, not now as you read it.

I'm at The Rio. Yay! One thousand DavePoints for anyone who guessed correctly.

I love The Rio. It's a much better place for someone like me. The Venetian is for millionaires. So I went to The Rio, and I immediately felt better. Just being in the place did me worlds of good. And then, and then I saw something that lifted my spirits to new heights.

The Tilted Kilt is still there! Yay! I'd heard that it might be gone.

They weren't open yet though, so I couldn't go in, and I couldn't quite read the taps to see what was available. I'll be going there Tuesday night though.

---

I wrote the above stuff sitting at The Rio. Now I'm back in my hotel room and it's pretty damn late and I'm wide awake but little hung-over.

I'm hung-over because, when I left The Rio, I went to The Freakin' Frog. First, I took the free shuttle back to Harrah's. Then I bought a three-day pass for the monorail. Then I took said monorail to The MGM Grand. Then I took a cab to The Freakin' Frog.

Their draft list didn't impress me too much today, but I got over it quickly enough, as soon as I confirmed that they had Alaskan Smoked Porter in bottles. They had four bottles left, and I bought all four, and I drank three of them (567).

And that's why I'm a little hung-over.

The fourth bottle is here in my hotel room. I haven't decided if I'm going to drink it this week or if I want to try to figure out a way to get it home.

First of all, if wanting to have sex with Ashley Judd is wrong, then I don't want to be right.

I don't suppose there's much to say about the trip here. Had a layover in Dallas. I think the humidity there was forty-six million percent. I arrived in Las Vegas at 3:00. This is much later than I usually get here, much later then I prefer to get here. I felt like I'd wasted the entire day before I had even started.

After the usual long wait for my luggage, and the very long line for a taxi, I got to The Venetian and checked in.

SCRIBBLERESQUE PARENTHETICAL THOUGHT: This pen really sucks. I need to get a new one.

For the next several hours I searched The Venetian and some of the surrounding establishments for a decent beer place. All I found was a bar at TI with Newcastle on tap. This was not ideal because (a) it wasn't where I was staying, (b) it was served at 32.00001 degrees, and (c) Nevada's new anti-smoking laws made it impossible for me to enjoy two of my favorite vices at the same time. So I ended up leaving after two of the slushy Newcastles (5673), and I went back to The Venetian to sulk for a while.

After a dinner consisting of two giant pretzels with cheese (Nutrition First, I always say) I sat at this little bar on the casino floor, where I could smoke, and asked the bartender what bottled beers he had.

"Everything," he replied.

"Oh really?" I said. "I'd like a bottle of Alaskan Smoked Porter, please."

Hey, it was worth a shot.

"Never heard of it," the guy said.

Figures.

So I ended up having a couple bottles of Fat Tire (447). It's a pretty good beer, and I began to feel a little less sorry for myself, and a little more optimistic that I might be able to enjoy myself this week.

At about 10:00, jet-lag kicked in so I retired for the night.

I got to Rich O's pretty early last night, at a little after 6:00. This was partly because my sister Dina had called earlier and said that she might stop by. Partly.

The place wasn't too crowded when I got there. I sat at the island and had a Schlenkerla Marzen (288) and some potato wedges with beer cheese. I basically just vegged out and emailed RockGirl and watched the door.

Then after a while PlantDude got sick of the weirdoes in the living room area so he came up and joined me. We talked about various crap, like Paris Hilton's breasts, for a while. I had another Marzen (305), and watched the door some more.

Then a bunch of weirdoes came and joined us at the island. I had another Marzen (322) and watched the door.

Then I got sick of the weirdoes at the island so I moved over to the sofa. I had a Diet Coke and paid my tab.

Just as I was getting ready to leave, WeatherGirl came in with some dude. I didn't really talk to her though, as they left for the SportsTime side of things right away. I had a brief moment of hope that perhaps LaptopGirl might be at SportsTime so I ran and/or skipped over there. I didn't see LaptopGirl, but I did see NeighborsDaughter, so I stopped and chatted with her for a minute or two.

Then I came home a little before 10:00.

And now today I have a gazillion little things to take care of to get ready for Las Vegas, and then tonight I'll go back to Rich O's and watch the door some more. It's nice to have a plan, I suppose.

Today I was presented with the possibility of something which just might be the most terrible, mind-wrenching thing that could ever possibly happen. I described the horrific scenario in an email to RockGirl.

Now, you have to realize, RockGirl knows me and my frailties better than just about anyone on Earth. There was no doubt in my mind that she would instantly realize the implications and understand the true horrors of this scenario.

So what was her response?

"I think that would be awesome."

Clearly, RockGirl has been abducted by aliens and replaced by some kind of pod-person. I will be writing her local congressman and urging him to start an immediate investigation. Hopefully the real RockGirl's whereabouts can be determined before it's too late.

---

I'm not really sure why, but today I had HairCutLady use clippers on me instead of just scissors like she normally does. My hair hasn't been this short since I got out of the Air Force in 1992. Plus, now I look like I'm about twelve years old.

---

NotHideousGirl wore a skirt today. Of course I checked out her legs. But because I'm a gentleman I told her, before she even stood up, that I'd be checking out her legs. I didn't even try to be sneaky about it. They're nice, by the way.

---

MisunderstoodGirl is writing a screenplay as a Summer project. People she knows are being asked to contribute character ideas to represent themselves. I can't think of a good character for myself. I thought "freelance gynecologist" was a pretty good one, but FutureDude already got dibs on that character. I'm thinking that "professional beer snob" might be the best I can come up with.

---

NotHideousGirl is also considering a screenplay, but all of her characters are girls.

---

Five days from right now I'll be in Las Vegas! Woooohoooo!

---

I have less than five days to either find my testicles, or grow a new pair.

---

I saw a pretty fucking impressive wall cloud today after work. I got really excited about the potential severe weather, but all it did was rain for a while. At least at my house that's all it did. I haven't watched any TV tonight, so maybe there's been death and destruction all around me. That would be just my luck.

---

There was a chick at work today who looked very familiar to me. I think she might have been a girl I had a crush on back in junior high. If I see her again I'll have to ask her.

---

Schlenkerla Marzen (219) is yummy.

---

I kinda think I want to move back to Alaska. Not forever, but for a year or so. I would live in a secluded cabin and be a recluse. It would be cool.

Yesterday I managed to put myself into a bit of a funk. Understandable, I suppose. Being in a good mood is kind of like wearing clothes that are completely wrong for me. I might be comfortable, and I might even look good at first glance, but once I catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror, I realize just how ridiculous I really look.

Some people might be able to get away with leather pants and flashy jewelry, but not me. Some people might be able to get away with smiling and laughing all the time, but not me.

So yesterday I got a glimpse of myself, and I was a little embarrassed, and even a little revolted, by what I saw.

And the other reason that I found myself in a bad mood yesterday was because, once again, my inertia had run out. And I found myself hoping for another push. And, if you've been reading me for any length of time, you know that hope is a terrible thing for me to have. I wrote once that hope is a strange thing. It exists only to disappoint, for if it's fulfilled, it vanishes.

Yesterday, despite knowing better, I found myself hoping for another push; a couple of specific pushes actually. And then my stupid brain had to butt in and remind me that the odds were very much against either of those things happening, so I went into a preemptive funk.

It would be nice if happiness could have the same inertia as sadness. Maybe it can, eventually. I hope so. That would be cool.

Anyway.

For a late lunch yesterday, I took what has become my customary trip to the Buffalo Wild Wings in Louisville. I had my customary yummy Newcastle (5505) and my customary yummy naked tenders with spicy garlic sauce. I talked with the bartender, and I wrote in my notebook, and I watched nubile young girls play softball on TV. It was nice, I suppose.

Later, on the drive to downtown Louisville, there was a fuck of a storm. I was sitting at a red light and a damn newspaper box went tumbling down the road in front of me. Surreal. My truck shook violently, and I would not have even batted an eye if I'd have flipped over. Turning onto Fifth Street, I saw that it was littered with newspaper boxes and construction signs. The whole scene looked like hurricane footage from The Weather Channel.

So I stopped at Hard Rock and talked to CoolHairGirl for a couple of minutes, then I went to The Pub. I had a Newcastle (5525) and talked with BikerGirl. I also had a new beer:

Kentucky Bourbon Barrel Ale (10)

(draft) Clear amber in color. No head to speak of. Very strong aroma of coconuts, of all things. Mouthfeel was fairly thin. Coconut predominates the flavor, just like it does the aroma. Smells like suntan lotion, and tastes like what I imagine suntan lotion tastes like. After an inch or so was gone, this started to taste a little better. What was strange was that I got absolutely zero indication of this beer's alleged bourbon influence.

My intention, once I got back home, was to take a nap for an hour, then go to Rich O's. Well my nap ended up being two and a half hours long, so that sucked, and I didn't get to Rich O's until after 9:00.

The place was pretty dead, but I didn't care, because LaptopGirl was there on the sofa.

Push number one!

Yay!

I sat in the throne and had a Diet Coke. My stomach was a little upset, I think because of the coconut beer. I didn't get to talk to LaptopGirl because (a) these people on the loveseat kept talking to me, and (b) LaptopGirl was talking to BigWheelGirl the whole time anyway. Still, it was of course nice to see her. And I'm probably not supposed to say this, but she looked very pretty in her pretty dress and pretty shoes.

About ten minutes after LaptopGirl and BigWheelGirl left, HatGirl came in.

Push number two!

Yay!

Take that, universe! I got both pushes, you asshole!

Feeling much better, I had myself a Delirium Tremens (1008) and a Koningshoeven Quad (508) while I talked with HatGirl and LuckyFucker for an hour or so. HatGirl was wearing these transparent sandal things, and I had to fight the urge to play "this little piggy" with her toes. It was a tough fight, but I did manage to win.

Once HatGirl and LuckyFucker left, I had another Diet Coke and talked with WomanRepellant and MusicalYuppieDude for a while, then I went back to Louisville to hang out with WeirdGirl some more.

Oh, yeah, I have LuckyFucker's phone. It had fallen behind the sofa cushion. So maybe I'll get to see HatGirl again when I take his phone back to him. Two days in a row would be very cool.

Okay, first I need to get this out of the way. It's a beer I tried for the first time on Thursday.

Aecht Schlenkerla Rauchbier Marzen

(draft) I was not expecting to like this. I don't know why. A nice clear dark amber color. The aroma of a smoky campfire. The smoke flavor is fairly apparent, and it's just smoke - no bacon or grapes or anything else to taint the flavor. I liked this a lot.

Anyway, on to Friday night.

Rich O's was moderately crowded when I arrived. Mostly with strangers. And there was a buttload of SteveFest celebrators out in the special people section. I sat at the bar and had a Koningshoeven Quad (498), then one of the aforementioned Marzens (55).

NotHideousGirl called at one point from Louisville, and I went outside so I could talk with her for a bit. She invited me to join her at the pub but I needed to stick around Rich O's for a while longer just in case anything cool happened. When I went back in to Rich O's, I had Roger introduce me to SteveFest Steve. As I'd been expecting, I never saw him before in my life.

I was thinking that maybe there could have been some official ceremony to mark the passage from the year of DaveFest to the year of SteveFest, but there was none. One dude took pictures though, so they might show up somewhere.

After a while the strangers left the island, so I moved there. I had another Marzen (75) and talked with various people for a while. This one chick said that a ceremonial beer stein might me a good thing to incorporate into future ceremonies.

Right after I ordered my third Marzen, some secret admirer arranged for a new beer to be delivered to me.

Monk's Cafe Flemish Sour Red (10)

(draft) Clear ruby-brown in color. A nice fluffy head. Sour cherries and apples in both the aroma and the flavor. Very comparable to Metreechs. Quite good.

I ended up only drinking the last half of the Marzen (85). I went over to Louisville to see this fashion show they were having for breast cancer awareness. By the time I got there, NotHideousGirl had already left. WeirdGirl wasn't working. So I hung out at Hard Rock and talked to CoolHairGirl and had several Diet Cokes.

Once the models started stomping along the runway (why do they have to stomp around like that?) I went out and watched them for a while. I tried to take pictures but none of the turned out worth shit. All of the models were, of course, quite hot. But I found myself thinking that maybe they should divert some of the proceeds from the event to buy the poor girls something to eat. It was cool though. First time I've gone to a fashion show, mostly because I'm straight.

Oh yeah, I texted HatGirl to let her know that Dragon's Milk is on at Rich O's. She replied that they might come in Saturday night. If so, yay!

I think that's about it.

It was pretty dead at Rich O's last night. I had a Paulaner Hefeweissbier (51) and a couple Guinnii (1464). I had of course been hoping to see LaptopGirl, but that didn't happen. In fact, I don't think anything interesting happened except that WeirdGirl kept calling me trying to pick a fight or something.

So at 10:30 or so I went over to Louisville to fight with her in person. While I waited for her to get off work I had a Newcastle (5312) at The Pub, then a part of a BBC Alt (368) at Hard Rock. I got to talk with CoolHairGirl quite a bit, mostly about the show Heroes. She's nice.

WeirdGirl had to work a lot later than she'd thought she would, but finally at 12:30 she was allowed to leave. She seemed to have lost the urge to start shit about things that I cannot control, so we went up and checked out this new bar that I can't remember the name of. It was fucking loud, but there were a lot of hot girls in various states of dress and undress.

I like hot girls. I especially like it when I'm with one of the hottest. Social proof, I like to call it.

Anyway, WeirdGirl had way too much to drink. I had slightly too much to drink. So we took a cab back to her place and crashed.

Then this morning I went to get my truck, I saw that somebody had vomited all over the side of it. Not cool.

As I write this, I'm sitting at Buffalo Wild Wings on Bardstown Road in Louisville, having a yummy Newcastle (5270) and waiting for my yummy naked tenders with spicy garlic sauce to arrive.

I brought my notebook with me. I was going to try to write a long-overdue update for my anonymous journal, but this cutie bartender keeps distracting me with her various feminine attributes. And talking to me. A lot.

Damn these good looks of mine!

To be fair, however, it's probably more than that. Or maybe even something completely different than that.

See, what's happening, I think, is that people, such as this little cutie-patootie bartender with the perky and shapely breasts, people see me smiling. Smiling like I'm smiling today. Smiling like there's no tomorrow. And they assume, because of the smiling, that I'm a friendly and maybe even *gasp* a sociable person.

They don't know the story of why I'm smiling. They don't know how rare it is. How could they possibly know?

So they see me smiling, and maybe they hear me laugh out loud for no discernable reason. And I seem like a nice enough person. And they talk with me and sometimes they flirt with me.

And I don't have the heart to tell them that this smile, and this laugh, they're not for them. And that I kinda wish they'd leave me alone for a while.

I thought I'd lost my rock, and it took me over a half an hour to find it. Then, on the way to Wendy's to get something to eat, I started having a panic attack. By the time I got to Wendy's I could barely stand up. Even my legs were shaking.

It might have been residual panic from thinking I'd lost my rock. It might have been because the last time I'd gone to Wendy's had been on Awkward Night. Or it might have been for some completely random reason. All I know is that it was bad.

After I ate, I felt a little better, and I went to Rich O's. I had to park on Mars, and so I was pleasantly surprised to see that the entire living room area was empty. Of course I grabbed the throne. I ordered a Stone Smoked Porter (400). StoreGirl came in right after I did and she sat on the loveseat.

There was a dude there from Velocity, one of the local free papers. He was taking pictures of the place for some bar-hopper segment they do. Then he came and sat on the sofa and talked to StoreGirl and me for a while. He got our names and conducted a little interview with me because I'm famous and shit. He seemed particularly interested in the customer appreciation festivals like DaveFest and SteveFest. It was pretty cool. This was actually the second time I'd been interviewed at Rich O's. The other time was a couple of years ago.

After the newspaper dude left, people started showing up. The living room area got pretty crowded, and my panic attack resumed with added intensity. I was actually starting to wonder if there might me something physically wrong with me.

Then LaptopGirl came in and smiled, and I was fine after that.

For the next couple of hours, I sat on the loveseat and talked with LaptopGirl. It was surreal and fantastic. I had another Stone (420). Once LaptopGirl left, I moved back to the throne and talked with MusicalYuppieDude and TremensGirl and CoffeeDude for a bit. I ordered another Stone, but I only drank half of it (430). I had a Diet Coke and then I came home.

I couldn't sleep at all so I sat on my swing and thought about happy things.

It might seem, to those of you who read this entry, that I went out to the bar last night. It would be a perfectly understandable mistake.

I got there at 8:00 or so. It was pretty crowded, mostly with regulars. I ordered a Paulaner Hefeweissbier (34) and sat on the sofa.

For about ten seconds.

The music was too fucking loud there. Way too loud. I'm talking concert-level sound. So I picked up my shit and moved up to the island.

For about ten minutes.

The assholes behind me were practically screaming at each other, just to be heard over the music. Plus I think they were drunk. Their shouting was threatening to vibrate my skull apart, and that would have been gross, so I picked up my shit and moved to the bar.

My second beer was a Stone Smoked Porter (380), which isn't my favorite smoked beer but it's pretty good when it's on tap. I sat there and talked with TallLady and various people about various things.

At one point one of the bartenders poured me a sample of a new beer for me. This is actually a beer I bought for myself the other day, but it still sits unopened in my beer fridge.

Malheur 10 (4)

(bottle) Hazy gold with lots of fizz. Good-sized head. Aroma fairly standard for Belgian ales. Flavor quite yummy. The usual for this style, but with some tiny hints of spices and maybe even some caramel in there.

Once it was gone, I finished my porter and talked with WomanRepellant and various other people about various crap. Towards the end of the night I had a Diet Coke and talked with TremensGirl about various crap, like how she's under the delusion that I'm brave.

Like I said, it might seem like I went to the bar last night. But it only seems that way.

What I really did, what I really did was take a deep breath, and then hold it for four hours. Then, when I got into my truck to drive home, I exhaled.

And tonight I'll probably do it all again.

I think that, to a lot of my friends, I'm quite handy. I'm a flashlight in the bottom of a cluttered kitchen drawer. Used briefly, and then put away and forgotten. Until the next time I'm needed. It's a lonely existence most of the time, but it's still nice to be useful.

---

I went and bought some bottles of Spezial Rauchbier today. I had two of them tonight (1504). It's pretty damn good. I want more.

---

Tomorrow is virtual Friday for me. Then it's a four-day weekend. What will I do during this four-day weekend? I'll wait and hope, of course. What else would I do?

---

Just about every day, when it's warm, I walk to The Pub for lunch. Google says it's seven-tenths of a mile. It seems longer than that.

---

In two and a half weeks I'll be in Las Vegas again. I should really start trying to get excited about the trip. I could certainly use the distraction.

---

HarpO wrote an entry yesterday which contained this sentence:

"Sometimes people do every thing to lead you on then if you make the effort to respond they pretend you acted without stimulus."

I'm think that this just might be the truest statement ever written. Also, HarpO and I are apparently living parallel lives.

---

I opened my present from yesterday, and it was exactly what I thought it was. It made me smile for about an hour.

---

Today I spent a lot of money on something that I'll probably never use.

---

I'm very confused about tonight's Lost finale. If the thing with Jack was supposed to be in the future, then why was his dad still alive?

---

There are two people, ostensibly among my best friends for my entire life, and I haven't seen one of them in seven months, and I haven't seen the other one in almost a year. This is not completely my fault.

---

I'm in a weird mood.

Malheur Dark Brut
Malheur Brut Reserve
Gouden Carolus Grand Cru
Gouden Carolus Classic
Malheur 10
Abbaye d'Aulne Triple Brune
Gouden Carolus Triple
Konigshoeven Quad

Except for the Koningshoeven, these are all new beers for me.

Rogue Ten Thousand Brew Ale
Allagash Curieux
Rodenbach
Rodenbach Grand Cru
Ommegang Three Philosophers
Avert The Reverend
Three Floyds Behemoth
Canaster Winterscotch
Cassissona
Delirium Tremens

All new to me except The Reverend and Delirium Tremens.

And I actually have even more waiting to be enjoyed. I just didn't want to post a picture of everything because I didn't want people to think I was a freak.

Like I've said before, It doesn't take much.

It's one of the good things about being a fucking willow branch.

Anyway, Monday after work, Roger, the owner of Rich O's, told me that Rogue Smoke would be there on Tuesday.

I think that his exact words were, "Rogue Smoke will be here tomorrow."

His exact words were apparently important.

Today, after work, after my nap, I was taking my newly dewrinkled shirt out of the dryer when MusicalYuppieDude texted me from Rich O's.

I asked him if Rogue Smoke was on tap.

He said that it wasn't.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit!

I thought about Roger's exact words. He hadn't, after all, said that Rogue Smoke would actually be available for purchase. He'd only said that it would be there at Rich O's.

So maybe he wasn't a big fat liar after all.

Since I was all dressed up anyway, I went down to Rich O's. Maybe, I thought, Maybe the beer board is wrong. Maybe Rogue Smoke is on tap anyway.

Well, the board wasn't wrong. Rogue Smoke wasn't on tap.

But I didn't care, because LaptopGirl was there.

Yay and fucking yay!

And, this time, she actually talked to me!

Yay and fucking double-yay!

Like I said, it doesn't take much. Especially when not much is actually everything in disguise.

So I had a Brooklyn Brown Ale (80) and talked to LaptopGirl for a bit.

Then I had a glass of Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier (1822), which is back on tap for a while.

Then I had what was left of LaptopGirl's Guinness (1424), because she didn't want to finish it.

I was so fucking happy to talk to her! I am still so fucking happy!

After LaptopGirl left, I moved up to the bar and talked with WomanRepellant for a while. He seemed to be in a better mood than he'd been in the last time I'd seen him. Or maybe my own good mood was turning out to be contagious.

I spent some time trying to bribe the bartenders into putting the Rogue Smoke on tap. There was, after all, at least one empty tap in the place, right in front of me. But none of them would do it, so great was their fear of Roger and his official beer board, complete with tapping order.

It was a fantastic night. Just fucking fantastic.

I suppose that it's relevant that I'm pretty much blind at night; the rods of my eyes having been weakened by sparkles a couple of years ago.

Were those even real?

Does it even matter?

So, I'm blind at night, especially on nights like tonight when the Moon is nowhere to be seen. I cannot see shapes, only varying degrees of blackness.

I couldn't see the one, two, three somethings that crossed my driveway tonight, as I sat in my swing enjoying a Rogue Chocolate Stout (1576). I couldn't see them, but I could tell that they were there. They glided like ghosts, and one of them, the largest, stopped not more than fifteen feet away from me. Fascinated, perhaps, by the glow of my cigarette as it rose and fell between my lap and my mouth. I flicked the butt onto my driveway, and the shape slid silently away.

And those other things, those shadows that flitted about at the very edge of my peripheral vision? They seemed to be jockeying for position. I imagined them chattering to each other, bargaining for their favorite angles. From which to watch me. To wait for me. To attack and devour me.

But I did not fear them, those unseeable monsters that lurked in the dark. Instead, I welcomed them. It had been a long time since I'd felt their presence. I'd actually missed the pitiful horrible things.

Tonight, they left me alone. Without my fear to fuel their bravery, they eventually retreated back to their origins. Back into my own imagination.

I am perfectly content, right now.

I am, once again and finally, blissfully aware of my place in this world.

Like I wrote yesterday, everything seems like a bad idea to me lately

This entry right here is a perfect example. I should not be writing this. There is no good that can come from writing this. It's not only a no-win situation, it's a lose-lose situation. Writing this entry will only make things worse than they already are.

Anyway.

Friday night sucked. I got this damn wild hair up my ass to go over to Louisville and check out this big Derby party they were having at Fourth Street Live.

That was a stupid idea.

As near as I could tell, there was exactly one seat in the entire complex. That seat was, fortunately, at the bar at the Hard Rock. So I sat there and had a BBC Alt (362) and talked very briefly to CoolHairGirl. But she was busy, so I didn't stick around. Nobody I knew was at The Pub, plus there were no seats available there, so I left and went to Rich O's.

I was in a shitty mood. I should have just stayed home.

But what I did instead was sit on the sofa for about ten seconds. Then people tried to talk to me so I moved to the island. I had a couple pints of a new beer:

Brooklyn Brown Ale (40)

(draft) Almost black with a decent tan head. Aroma of malts, and not much else. Same for the flavor. No bitterness. I liked it.

Saturday sucked. I spent the entire day feeling worse than I'd felt in months. Like the absence which had been my constant companion, like it had suddenly decided to turn on me. It became a giant hand which closed around my throat and squeezed as hard as it could.

Then I walked into Rich O's. I'd planned to just sit at the bar and be a hermit for a while. I was looking forward to it actually. So I walked straight through the door and straight to the bar. I ordered a Delirium Tremens (940).

Then I heard a voice.

Her voice.

I turned around, and there was LaptopGirl. Sitting with her friends BigWheelGirl and WeatherGirl.

I waved.

She waved back. I heard her say the word awkward to her friends.

And that was it. I wasn't invited over to join them, and I certainly wasn't going to impose myself on them.

So I sat at the fucking bar like a weirdo and watched my hands shake away every bit of progress I've made since last Summer.

Then I had another Tremens (957).

Then I went home (waved goodbye, got a wave back) and sat on my swing, and had a couple bottles of O'Fallon Smoked Porter (72).

Then I went to bed and stared at my ceiling until this afternoon when it was time to get ready for this family reunion thingy at my sister's house.

While there, I had four yummy bottles of Aecht Schlenkerla Rauchbier Weizen (171). Then I came home and wrote this crap of an entry.

So why do I keep spouting the same drivel over and over, even long after it's become perfectly clear that it does more harm than good?

Because it feels right in my head. Because it fits onto my heart like a glove fits onto my hand. Because it belongs.

Because one night I leaned against a railing, and I looked at her as she sat and cried on this little wall...

and I broke through the clouds, and I saw how far I was going to fall. And I knew, right then and right there that my life would never be the same again.

That's why I keep writing crap like this.

Because I was right. Everything changed then.

Anyway.

My next stop, after Buffalo Wild Wings, wasn't the BBC after all. It was the Haunted Highland Tap Room. I had a couple Newcastles (4682) and had a little séance. Funny, we only came here once, but this place seems as haunted as any other. Maybe even more than Rich O's, because there are fewer memories competing for attention.

Next, I went over to The Pub. Actually I went to Hard Rock first, but CoolHairGirl wasn't working, so I went to The Pub and had yet another Newcastle (4702) and talked to BikerGirl for a while.

My sister Dina called to see if I was going to Rich O's later. I hadn't really made any plans to go there, but I told her that I'd meet her in about an hour. I invited BikerGirl to come to Rich O's when she got off work at 8:00. I wrote down directions for her, just in case. I think going to Indiana was about tenth on her list of possibilities for the evening.

But at least she didn't laugh when I invited her. So that was cool.

Got to Rich O's a little after 7:00. I sat at the kiddie table with Dina and had another Diet Coke. Her husband Kenny came in after a while. BadPickleGirl came in with some dude, but I think it was just a coincidence that they came in. Unless she's stalking me.

Eventually, I had a bottle of yummy Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier (1805). Once everyone else had left, I waited until about 9:30 to see if BikerGirl was going to show up.

Then, some fucked-up shit happened.

Then, I stopped at White Castle on the way home.

Yesterday I was all excited to take a trip somewhere. Or maybe not excited exactly. But at least not ambivalent. And that's pretty good for me lately.

I was going to go to either Indianapolis or Nashville. I was going to drink some good beer, eat a good meal or two. Spend the night in a hotel, then come back this afternoon all refreshed.

But nooooooooooo!

About ten seconds before I walked out the door, I remembered that I had to work this morning.

So my trip was cancelled before it started. I decided to play tourist right here close to home.

My first stop was this Buffalo Wild Wings place in Louisville. I'd been craving their naked tenders and spicy garlic sauce since I'd first discovered that combination in Indianapolis a few weeks ago. There are, as it turns out, several million of these places in Louisville. I picked the one closest to the BBC because I thought that I might go there next.

I had a heterosexual Blue Moon (490) and six naked tenders with spicy garlic sauce. I also tried the parmesan sauce. It was all very yummy.

During this time, I also traded a couple of emails with RockGirl. Told her about my aborted trip. She said that she sometimes envied my ability to just up and take off. I replied with this lump of drivel:

Don't envy my travels too much. It's really nothing more than running around in circles, arms flailing, trying to escape this existence.

So what if it's all superficial?

So what if I end up dying alone and unloved?

There are some who would argue that I deserve that particular fate.

Friday seemed like a waste to me. It was a night of going through the motions of being a person.

I got to Rich O's a little before 8:00. The place was full of strangers and/or weirdoes. I sat at the kiddie table and had a couple pints of Smithwick's (1614) while I waited for something to happen. Nothing in particular, just anything at all.

Well, nothing ever did happen, so I went over to that stupid Mac's place to see MisunderstoodGirl and listen to karaoke.

That place was pretty packed. At least the bar was. There were a lot of empty tables. I sat at the far end of the bar and vegged out for a while. I talked to MisunderstoodGirl for a bit before she had to start getting the karaoke stuff set up. She was wearing a Jamaican wig. It was pretty cool.

I ended up having a couple glasses of Newcastle (4650) and talking with two bombshells who'd come in and sat next to me. They're semi-regulars at Rich O's, but I don't think they recognized me. Imagine that. I bought them a round of beers, they bought me a beer. It was pleasant, but I was still just phoning it all in.

Once the Bombshells left, I got bored. I switched to Diet Coke and waited for NotHideousGirl to show up. I called her at one point to make sure that she was still coming. She was, so I waited around.

But by the time she showed up my boredom had reached epic proportions, so I left. I was going to go over to meet WeirdGirl at this new Rock Bar place, but then I remembered that (a) I'd broken up with WeirdGirl and (b) for a reason, (c) even if it was a stupid reason, and (d) I still can't afford to develop feelings for WeirdGirl.

So I went instead to this Jack's bar next to Rich O's and had half a PBR (42) before coming home.

Today was kinda cool, I suppose.

I had lunch at Polly's Freeze again, and it was good, but this was the second day in a row in which I had to sit in the old people section because kids were at my favorite table. That scenario is all a little too leading and obvious and ominous for my tastes.

Heh, I originally wrote testes instead of tastes. I must be channeling Beavis or Butthead.

I was getting ready for my sister's cookout, and I didn't have enough appealing beer at home. Just one bottle of Spezial, and a bunch of strong Belgians. So I went to this stupid liquor store in Louisville (Indiana liquor stores are closed on Sundays) and looked for some smoked beer. I didn't find any, so I just bought some Hoegaarden White.

Dina's thingy was fun, as those things go. I never quite feel right. Like, I know I'm not a stranger to those people, but I feel like I'm one. So I did my best to stay out of everyone's way. And I really enjoyed the Spezial (1470) I'd brought from home.

I got to see BadPickleGirl. That was cool. And I got to see my friend Eric's wife Teri. Eric himself was a no-show. Something about some cousin from Detroit that I never heard of.

I had one of the Hoegaardens (44), but it just didn't taste very good. I'd really had my heart set on smoked beer. Oh well.

Then the guys all went to pitch horseshoes and, lacking a partner, I stayed with the women folk. If Eric had been there we'd have pitched some games, but again, there was that cousin from Detroit thing.

There have been times when Teri has completely saved me, by giving me someone to talk to for hours. Today was not one of those times. She and the kids left fairly early. BadPickleGirl left shortly afterwards, and I suddenly found myself surrounded by people who've no doubt been bombarded with endless stories of what an asshole I am.

So, I left as well.

On the way home, I stopped by BadPickleGirl's house and watched some TV. And I got my beer glasses back. So that was cool. She's very pretty, and her daughter's very charming and precocious, and it would probably be funny if I wrote some gushing love diatribe about BadPickleGirl, but it just seems like too much trouble. And it wouldn't be that funny anyway.

And now I'm very tired, but I don't want to go to sleep because, when I wake up, I have to go back to work.

Oh yeah. As we were leaving Rich O's, I put NotHideousGirl in charge of reminding me that I was cut-off from beer for the rest of the night. It wasn't because I felt that I'd had too much. It was just on the principle of the thing. I mean, I'd had three Delirium Tremens.

So I got to Mac's and I didn't know anyone. I sat at the bar and ordered a Newcastle (4450). I know, NotHideousGirl had failed in her duty already! And she wasn't even there yet. Though I guess, to be fair, the fact that she wasn't there yet may have contributed to her dereliction.

A couple of minutes after I sat down a cute blonde girl came and sat a couple of places down from me. So I got to talking with her, and that was pretty much the theme of the night for me. I'd talk to CuteBlonde for a while, then I'd go over and sit with NotHideousGirl and her friend Calculon (or something like that) for a while. Then CuteBlonde would wave me back over, and I'd go talk to her some more.

It was a little scary at first, how much we had in common. So we spent some time searching for reasons that we shouldn't just run away together. A couple of little things came to light, but none of them seemed to be insurmountable obstacles to our everlasting love...

...until she said that she thought that Dwight Schrute could beat up Jack Bauer.

So that particular romance ended before it had even really began. But I still spent the rest of the night continuing to alternate between her at the bar, and NotHideousGirl and Calculon at a table. And FutureDude, who had snuck in at some point.

I also alternated between Diet Cokes and Newcastles. I really have no idea how many more Newcastles I had. Some number between three and eight hundred million. I think I'll just say three (4498).

I didn't get to hear NotHideousGirl sing nearly as much as I'd have liked. It seemed that every time she got up to sing I was over at the bar talking to CuteBlonde.

They closed the place down at 3:00 or so, and everybody left. CuteBlonde gave me a hug. I'll probably never see her again.

And this is the part of the entry where I think I'm finished. But then I always think of a bunch of little trivial tidbits that I wish I'd mentioned. So I'll try to think of them before I post the entry this time.

---

It seemed like NotHideousGirl was trying to wing for me at one point. This was a bad idea because CuteBlonde had been convinced all night that (a) NotHideousGirl and I were a couple, and (b) that NotHideousGirl was going to start a fight with her over me.

---

This seems to be a recurring theme in peoples' thoughts lately. We may need to stage that break-up fight after all.

---

This one dude, I shit you not, walked up to the dartboards, picked up six darts, and threw six bulls-eyes in a row. I saw this from across the room and then I went and told him that it was awesome.

---

There was a guy there who CuteBlonde confessed to having made-out with a few weeks earlier. So part of my mission for the night was to make sure that CuteBlonde was never left alone for very long.

---

Right at the end of the night I had a fucked-up phone conversation. Other than that, it was a pretty fun night.

6:45
I'm feeling a little uneasy right now. Maybe I'm simply dreading the after-thunder crowd I'm sure to encounter later. Or maybe it's just the 24 ounces of industrial swill sitting in my stomach. Whatever the reason, I just don't feel quite right.

I'm sitting at Tucker's, waiting for my steak and baked potato and mushrooms. Come to think of it, maybe this place is why I feel uneasy. We used to come here, every so often.

6:50
I'm going to need another Diet Coke soon. 'Cause it takes a million years to cook steak the way I like it. "Burnt," most would say.

6:56
They're showing the airshow on TV, of course. Looks really crowded. Later, they'll show the fireworks, and they'll be sure to waste a lot of airtime showing the faces of people as they watch the fireworks. I think they do that just to annoy people.

---

After that I didn't take any more notes. My steak was good. It was a bad cut, with a big line of fat running through the middle, but it tasted really good. Baked potato was good. Mushrooms were good. My second Diet Coke arrived just in time. Thanks for your concern.

I got to Rich O's at 8:00 or so. The parking lot was completely full. I hadn't been expecting that. Everybody was supposed to be at the airshow. But when I went in I saw that it really was kind of dead inside. Except for a birthday party going on in the special people section. So that explained the parking lot.

By this time my unease from earlier had gotten a little worse. Because I'd eaten way too much. I should have passed on the mushrooms, I think.

I sat on the throne and ordered a bottle of Delirium Tremens (891). A nice light Belgian will often calm down an upset stomach. LaptopGirl taught me that. But by the time I'd finished the bottle, I wasn't really feeling any better. I almost went home, but instead I just moved up to the bar. I think that the way I was sitting on the throne may have been contributing to my discomfort.

So I moved to the bar, and I had another Tremens (902). And I warned the bartenders that I might let out a 15-minute belch at any moment.

Talked to the bartenders, and then a couple I know moved up from the living room to the bar and I talked to them.

By the time I'd finished my third Tremens (913) I was feeling a lot better. I'd never had that 15-minute belch, but I'd had about a million little burps. I know, thanks for sharing.

FutureDude had told me earlier that NotHideousGirl would be singing karaoke at that Mac's place that I don't like. I already knew that because I'd read it in her blog. I wasn't planning to go because I'd been sure all week that NotHideousGirl had been avoiding me. It's this persecution complex that I have. Runs in my family.

But NotHideousGirl came into Rich O's to get something to eat before she went to Mac's. She sat at the bar with me and so I figured that maybe she hadn't been avoiding me after all. Or, if she had been, she'd gotten over it. In any event, after NotHideousGirl had picked at her food for a while, we left Rich O's. I went straight to Mac's, and she went home because she'd forgotten her glasses.

I feel like I'm really starting to ramble now, so I'll finish this entry later.

TremensGirl said something last night that struck me as deep, and true, and I told her that I was going to use it, and credit her for saying it.

There's a fine line between a pussy and an asshole that every man must...

Every man must what?

Walk?

Lick?

I'm thinking more likely the former, because it wasn't a sexual discussion. It was more about the two extremes of personalities that guys must avoid. I wasn't really in the conversation. I was just listening. But I should have tried harder to remember the entire quote.

Anyway, I spent the first half of Friday night at Rich O's, in the throne. It was a nice night. It wasn't too crowded at all, and the people who were there seemed to have about the same energy level that I had. I had a couple pints of NABC Jasmine (70), and about a half-pint of Upland Wheat (53). I had a couple of nice conversations with someone from my recent past, conversations that managed to pick me up and knock me down at the same time. I emailed RockGirl.

I left Rich O's at 11:00 or so, and went over to The Pub. There are a bunch of strangers and weirdoes in town for the annual Thunder Over Louisville air show and fireworks display, and I was kind of in the mood for talking to new people.

I ended up sitting with some people from Indianapolis who make the trek every year. One of them was particularly nice, and I talked to her pretty much exclusively for two or three hours. IndyGirl asked for my email address. I'm sure I'll never hear from her again.

Oh yeah, I had a couple pints of Newcastle (4434) and then a Diet Coke to round out the night.

Now I'm attempting to write an entry just because I have nothing else to do. My house is being cleaned right now, and I want to stay out of their way. Also, I don't want to feel guilty for not helping out.

So I'll write an entry about last night, and I'll type slowly to kill extra time.

Let's see...

Um...

Oh, yeah.

I went to Rich O's at about 7:00 or so. The parking lot was completely full, so I parked on Neptune. The crowd wasn't too bad inside the place. TallLady was in the throne, and some strangers were on the loveseat. I sat on the sofa and ordered a Schlenkerla Rauchbier Weizen (86). I kind of vegged out and did my best to deflect any questions directed at me.

Then after TallLady left I moved to the throne and ordered another Schlenkerla (103).

Then the weirdoes started pouring in.

One was HotEuchreGirl. She is, um, hot but she has weird friends. So it wasn't even that much of a chore to tear myself away from her and move to the island. The mass of weirdoes in the living room area took about a second to shift and heal the hole my departure had left.

SassyBoy and that one super cute girl from a couple of weeks ago came in. I sat at the island and talked with them for pretty much the rest of the night. Or, to be more precise, I talked to SassyBoy and somehow lost the power of speech every time I even looked in SuperCuteGirl's direction.

My next beer was going to be another Schlenkerla, but they're out of those now. Thanks to me. So I had a yummy Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier (1788) instead.

HotEuchreGirl came and sat with us for a while. I moved to the other end of the island so I could talk to her. I managed to scare her away fairly quickly. Probably with all the drooling.

My last beer was a Koningshoeven Quad (432) and it was nearly my downfall. I doubt that I could have had another drop of alcohol even if I'd wanted to.

So, I had a few diet cokes and then came home at around 12:30 or so.

Kind of a boring night.

Tonight was virtual Friday for me, as I'm off work until Monday. So, yay!

There, I wrote something happy. I saw HotGirlsHotCousin tonight, and she told me that my journal was too depressing. I don't know why she should feel that way. I mean, it's not like she has to live my life. She, and all of my other readers, they should all be grateful that they're not the ones having to put up with this bullshit. Reading what I write should make everyone happy, by contrast if nothing else.

Anyway, I went to Rich O's at about 7:00, and I sat with the aforementioned HotGirlsHotCousin and one of her cousins who should probably get a nickname but I haven't picked one yet. Since there was nothing on the beer board that looked appealing to me I had a Smithwick's (1534).

Then, an hour or so later, I had another one (1554).

I spent the vast majority of the night emailing RockGirl and probably bugging the shit out of her. But that's okay. She's tough, and I know she can take it.

My next beer was a Schlenkerla Weizen (69), which smelled and tasted fantastic to me. I even made everyone around me smell it, I was so proud.

Then, I got bored with sitting on the sofa, so I moved over to the kiddie table and talked with TShirtDude for a while. By then I was drinking a Regenboog Guido (30) which I really loved.

At one point I drunk-texted NotHideousGirl. I wasn't expecting a response, and I didn't get one.

At 10:30 or so, a smoking hot girl came in and sat out front. So, feeling frisky, I stole a pen and a notepad from behind the bar, adopted my most professional expression, and went and took her beer and food order. But then the real bartender took over and didn't let me approach the hot girl anymore.

Then at about 11:00 I got really bored, so I went to White Castle and then came home.

And tomorrow, I have a decision to make. What to do with four days off work?

This entry brought to you by:

New Albanian Jasmine the Mastiff (10)

(draft) Black with a decent tan head. Strong aroma of roasted malt and a touch of chocolate. Flavor is like the aroma. Mostly roasted malt with a touch of chocolate. And no hop bitterness! Yay! I really like this beer, so I'll probably never see it again once this batch is gone. I'd better drink up while I can.

Today, StalkerGirl completed my game of 20-questions. She got it right at number 20. So, yay for StalkerGirl!

Meanwhile, RockGirl continues to toil. I lost track of the number of questions she's had after 8,000,000 or so. Actually, I'm pretty sure she's just been fucking with me.

Anyway, now I have to get cryptic.

One of my more self-destructive habits, mentally destructive I mean, is that I tend to obsess over whatever I figure is the worst thing that could possibly happen. And then I start playing some horrible scenario over and over in my head until, in theory at least, I become immune to it. Or at least less susceptible to its harmful effects.

That's the theory.

It even worked. Once.

I used to obsess about this one terrible thing. I'd write about it and I'd talk about it and I'd even joke about it sometimes, and then, when it actually happened, I was surprisingly okay with it. Not really okay per se, but I never did implode or explode the way I'd have thought I would. I think my biggest problem was wondering when and/or if I would realize the horror of the situation and then collapse into a spreading pool of misery and self-pity.

But it never happened. So that was cool, I guess. Though sometimes I think that it might have been nice to have felt something.

Now, now I've found myself a new obsession. Once that's admittedly even less likely than the last one. Less likely, perhaps, but a million times more terrible should it ever happen.

And this scenario, I can't talk about it. I certainly can't fucking joke about it. I did try writing about it. Once, in an email. It was completely ignored.

A while back I wrote an entry about something terrible. For a few days I was sure that this would be the worst thing that could happen. But I realized that I was wrong. It wouldn't even be close to the worst thing. Nope, the worst thing is something that I can't even bring myself to imagine with any semblance of detail.

So, in the unlikely event that it ever does happen, I'll be woefully unprepared.

Great, now I'm in a shitty mood. Way to go, Dave. You dipshit.

This entry bought to you by:

Left Hand Smoke Jumper (25)

(bottle) Almost completely black. Huge heaping head. Heavenly smoked malt aroma. From under the massive layer of foam, some chocolate notes rose and made themselves known. The mouthfeel is a lot thinner than I was expecting. Flavor is intensely sweet. Some smoke in the finish. After the first few sips, I became numb to the sweetness, and the nice overall balance of the beer became evident. Quite yummy.

So, I've been toying with this idea all day. This idea of writing something completely honest and straightforward.

Just as sort of a test. To see what might happen if I took someone's words and interpreted them as truth. Words saying that honesty and openness are paramount to her.

I don't think the truth would be appreciated. I think that it would be seen as a series of dismissals and denials. Or even worse, as a mere subset of the real truth.

Why even bother?

Because I could be wrong, that's why.

So, here goes.

Two or three or four times a week, I sit at The Pub during lunch, and I listen to my friend bad-mouth men. I listen to her tell me that all men are assholes, that men only want sex from women, that men are lying backstabbing bastards. That there are no good men in the world, that they're a bunch of apes who are nothing more than a life-support system for a penis.

I sit, and I listen to this. I even nod at the appropriate times. At least a part of me does. The friend part. That's the part of me that climbs out of bed late at night to go where I'm needed, just because I'm needed. That's also the part of me that exits unannounced, lest some word or action or facial expression betray some unauthorized thoughts or feelings.

That guy, that Dave-as-a-friend guy, he's a pretty decent fellow. I think everyone should have a friend like him. I know that I wish I did. Even if he is kind of a pussy.

But there's another part of me, sitting in that bar two or three or four times a week. The part that's not a friend. The part that's a man. The part that wants to jump up onto the bar and scream in frustration when he hears those hateful and hurtful words. And defend himself as the man that he is. A good man. A decent man. Not a lying backstabbing bastard who only wants sex. More than a penis life-support system. Much fucking more.

But, problem is, she doesn't think of me as a man at all. If she did, she wouldn't be talking to me the way she does. She probably wouldn't be talking to me at all.

My hair is, after all, the wrong color.

That's fair, I suppose. She has the same name as a whore I used to be married to. So that makes it even, right?

Look, this frustration of mine isn't even about my friend. She and I, as woman and man, would have many more forbidding obstacles than my hair and her name. This thing with her and me - it's just the most fitting and most current example of what frustrates me.

Why can't I be both? Why can't I be a friend and a man? Why must I fucking choose and, if I refuse to choose, why then is that choice made for me?

I sit at the bar several times a week, listening to my friend bad-mouth men. And I empathize and I nod at the right times. I do these things because I'm her friend. But I also think about what it might be like to kiss her lips, or hold a hug for a few seconds or minutes longer than necessary. I do these things because I'm a man.

Why, I wonder, why can I have a friend who's also a woman, but I myself can only be seen as friend or as a man. Not as both. Never as both.

It frustrates the hell out of me, and that's the truth.

Now, let's see how that truth gets misinterpreted.

And so another long Saturday leads to another long Saturday Beer Report. One in which I'm certain to leave out several interesting tidbits as I strive to keep from rambling on and on and on and on. And on.

My day started when I went to see WeirdGirl for a bit. She's starting a new job and wanted me to check the place out. It's not my kind of place. There's no good beer there, and the stage was an ominous presence. Loud music and crappy beer make Dave something something.

So then I went over to Borders and bought a book and a notebook and a pen. Then I went to The Pub and had a couple pints of Newcastle (4352) with my fish and chips. It was kinda boring there, plus this one bartender wouldn't leave me alone, so I went over to Hard Rock to see if CoolHairGirl was working.

She was, so I stayed.

I had a couple glasses of BBC Alt (330) and talked to CoolHairGirl whenever she'd get a little break. One cool thing was that we were talking about gluten intolerance for some reason, and she mentioned that she'd met a girl at this Third Street Dive place who suffered from it. From the description I was pretty sure that she was talking about NotHideousGirl. So I whipped out my blackberry and pulled up a picture of NotHideousGirl.

It was her! Small world, as they say.

At about 5:30 or so, I got bored so I left Hard Rock. I'd thought that maybe I'd just go straight to Rich O's, but (a) HatGirl was sick, and (b) I wasn't really in the mood for another sausage-fest. So I did something different.

I went down to our local Caesar's casino.

That place was really packed, as I'd been expecting. I'd wanted to play some blackjack, but there wasn't a single blackjack seat open anywhere. So instead I spent about three hours playing pai gow poker and losing about $22.

Then I left the boat and went to this Legends bar there in the Caesar's complex. They always have decent beer there. I sat at the bar and ordered a BBC Jefferson's Reserve Bourbon Barrel Stout (432).

I'd only been sitting for about ten seconds when my phone started vibrating. It was, of course, HatGirl. No longer sick, and sitting at Rich O's wondering where I was. I somehow fought the urge to skip and turn cartwheels all the way to Rich O's. Instead, I texted back that I was down at the boat.

So then HatGirl texted for me to stay where I was, and that she and LuckyFucker would come down there.

Never has an hour passed so slowly.

I spent most of that hour talking to this hooker who was sitting next to me. She and her girlfriend were having a two-for-one special going on, and there weren't any takers. At least up until that point. I reminded her that the night was still young. I also ordered some nuclear hot potato skins and managed to get one of them down without melting holes in my cheeks.

HatGirl texted me again when they left Rich O's, and I started to get even more excited. It was really going to happen. I was going to get to see HatGirl. My heart threatened to leap from my chest.

I nearly gave myself whiplash for the next several minutes, jerking my head to the left every two seconds to see if they'd arrived.

And then, they did!

HatGirl!

Yay!

So HatGirl and LuckyFucker and I spent a couple of hours talking and drinking beer. I had a couple glasses of Newcastle (4364). HatGirl had her usual Guinness. LuckyFucker had the BBC bourbon barrel stout I'd been drinking earlier. A good time was had by all. Especially me. Because, HatGirl! Yay!

Once the happy couple left I moved back to the bar. The hooker was gone, so maybe she found a customer after all. I had a couple Diet Cokes while I unwound, then I came home.

Man, I slept half the day away. That's what my dad used to say, when I was a kid, if I slept beyond like 9:00. Well this morning I slept until 11:00. It's so gloomy outside that I guess my body got fooled into thinking it was still just after sunrise.

Anyway.

Like I already said, it was very crowded last night. Standing-room only.

Actually this brings up a question I've had nagging at me.

Is it standing-room only, or standing room only, or standing-room-only? I can never figure out the rules for whether there should be hyphens or not.

So I stood at the end of the bar and MusicalYuppieDude and I complained about the crowd together for a while. There was nothing on the draft board that really looked appealing to me, so I went back to one of my old standbys (or is it stand-bys?), a Smithwicks (1514) that went down very well.

A few minutes later I smelled something good to my left. I turned, and it was ThatOneHotGirl who I'd noticed when I'd fought through the crowd on the way in. We talked briefly for a few minutes. It was nice. I like girls.

Then this one dude left the end of the bar so I went and sat there. OracleDude was sitting at the kiddie table and I talked to him except for those times when ThatOneHotGirl would come over and sit next to me. We talked about beer and the food there and being drunk kids in our early twenties. It was her first time ever at Rich O's. She didn't know what she was drinking, "Some pale ale" is all she knew. I promised her that I'd try to find out for her.

Then a bunch of weirdoes left the island so ThatOneHotGirl went and joined her friends there. I went back to talking with OracleDude, and I ordered a bottle of Koningshoeven Quad (420). I left a couple of ounces in the bottle.

Oh yeah, one of the bartenders was in a really terrible mood. I was actually a little concerned that he was going to go postal on everyone. I was certainly too frightened to ask him for an empty sample glass. I'm pretty sure that he'd have thrown it at me. So, once FutureDude slowed down enough, I asked him for one instead.

Then I poured the rest of my Koningshoeven into the sample glass and took it over to ThatOneHotGirl.

Yes, I was that smitten already. I wouldn't give up that beer to just any girl. But it gave me a chance to talk to her for a few more precious seconds. And to meet her boyfriend. I know, oh well.

After a while, TallLady left the throne and I moved there.

Spent the next couple of hours talking with various semi-regulars and waving at ThatOneHotGirl when she'd turn around and see me. I was in a very strange mood, and to prove that point, my next two beers were Upland Wheats (43). I don't even like that beer very much.

After a while, I had an urge to throw a wadded-up (should that be hyphenated?) napkin at ThatOneHotGirl. Just to get her attention so I could wave at her again. Because it had been a while. I asked MusicalYuppieDude and OracleDude if they thought beaning her with a napkin would be appropriate behavior, and OracleDude said he'd pay me five bucks if I did it. Well, I was going to do it anyway, so I took careful aim at the back of her head, and I let fly.

My aim was a little off - I hit her in the side. But this was partly because she and her entire group had chosen that moment to stand up and get ready to leave. ThatOneHotGirl felt the paper hit her, and she glared at this one girl who was sitting on the loveseat.

Well I couldn't have her being blamed for my misdeed, so I followed ThatOneHotGirl out front and confessed to her that it had been me. That I'd just wanted to talk to her again before she left. So she punched me (hard!) in the arm several times and laughed. I like her. She would be fun to make out (make-out?) with. But then her boyfriend came out from the bathroom and ruined everything. ThatOneHotGirl went off into the night, and I went back to the throne.

At least OracleDude owes me five bucks.

And this is about the point where my last entry picked up.

Or it is picked-up?

Those damn hyphens. They confuse me.

I should have asked her what her name was.

This entry brought to you by...

Allagash Four (22)

(bottle) Hazy brown. Minimal head. Aroma is complex and very strong, with malts and hops and nothing else. Flavor is mostly weird malts. Most Belgian quads feature dark fruit flavors, this is all malts. The two inches of sediment in the bottom of the bottle grossed me out. Overall, not bad, not great.

I'd bet that if bloggers took that advice to heart, then there'd be no bloggers.

Anyway, today I'm pissed. At pretty much the entire world.

I think I just get tired of hearing the same bullshit over and over, only to see it contradicted just as fiercely via actions and inactions.

Those two things speak louder than words. Actually, words don't speak at all. They mean nothing. They are hollow.

This is why I've given up. Because I've stopped listening to you people out there. Telling me how great I am, then turning your noses up at me when I show some emotion you don't agree with or understand. Offering comfort, but only so you'll feel less uneasy around me. Spouting advice, when you haven't a fucking clue as to what's happened to me.

It's all so fucking convenient, to seek my friendship when you need it. I'm always there. Where else would I go? But let me fucking need you, and you scatter like cockroaches in the middle of the night when the light is suddenly turned on. Because I don't fit into your mold. Because suddenly I'm the needy one. You reject the reality of the situation. You reject the truth. You reject me.

Today, I'm pissed. At pretty much the entire world.

Okay, fucking fine.

Today was kind of a weird day for me. Weird in a way that I'm not really sure I can describe. Or that I should describe.

The thing is, I'm thinking that I should probably be more sad than I am. Meanwhile, I should also be more happy than I am. Since I'm neither happy nor sad, despite various conspiracies, I'll just call it a weird day.

First, I went shopping again. Bought some work clothes.

I know, zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Then I went over to The Pub and talked with BikerGirl for a bit while I had a Newcastle (4232). That was about the time when I figured that I'd managed to alienate both HatGirl and NotHideousGirl in the same week. This should have bothered me, but it didn't. At least, not as much as I'd have thought.

Then I called MixedSignalGirl.

I know, I'm not supposed to do that anymore. But I had a good reason, and I'm pretty sure that she'd agree that I had a good reason.

You know that bullshit saying about If you love something let it go blah blah blah? Well I'm testing that saying, and it sucks. Big giant green ones.

Then I came home and took a nap. I dreamed about my ex-wife. That always pisses me off. There are a gazillion people more worthy of my dreams than her. Oh well.

Then I went to Rich O's. I had a couple glasses of Fastenbier (132) and talked with some of the guys I know.

The place was a total sausage-fest tonight. Even more than usual.

Plus, I kinda got the feeling that FutureDude was irritated with me. I may have violated one of my prime directives: Never piss off a bartender.

Anyway.

I got tired of the sausage-fest, so I went over to Louisville. I figured that I'd just chill out at The Pub or at Hard Rock for a while, let today sink into me a bit.

No such luck.

Hard Rock was fucking closed.

The Pub was fucking closing as I walked up to the doors.

So I walked down to the Red Star, and they were still open, and the cutie bartender agreed to serve me a beer.

Yay!

So I had a heterosexual* Blue Moon (469) as is my custom in that place.

When I got up to leave the Red Star, I glanced over at one of the tables, and I saw a pretty brunette who kinda look familiar. I didn't think much of it though, until I got outside.

Once I got outside, I turned around, and there she was.

BadPickleGirl!

Yay!

So we went back inside and talked about various crap for a few minutes. It was good to see her.

Then I came home. I'd been thinking about going over to this Third Street Dive place, but by that time I'd had enough excitement.

* - without the ubiquitous fruit wedge

Anyway, today I went shopping at the mall for a while. My tax refund had finally come in, so I had to buy something or risk going more insane. I kept my spending somewhat in-check, so that was good. Some of this money is supposed to go towards my Las Vegas trip in June.

When I left the mall, it was snowing like a mother fucker. In April. Pretty damn weird.

I went to Hooters and had a couple Newcastles (4212) and a quesadilla. All were yummy. The bartender said that she liked my Pink Floyd shirt, and I returned the compliment for her skimpy Hooters top. Then I stopped by Rich O's and had a Mad Bitch (284). It was also quite good.

After a quick nap, I went back to Rich O's at 9:00 or so. It was really packed, and I stood around for a half-hour or so drinking a Fastenbier (77). It was pretty boring, but then three really great things happened.

First, TeamHotness came in. Second, some old people left the kiddie table. Third, some weirdoes left the bar.

So I sat at the kiddie table and TeamHotness sat at the end of the bar and I got to talk to them for a couple of hours.

There may have been other people at Rich O's, and in fact I'm pretty sure that there were other people there, but I didn't care because TeamHotness had my undivided attention.

Oh yeah, I had another Fastenbier at some point (94).

In case I've never explained this before, TeamHotness consists of two girls. I've never seen either of them without the other. One I call ImprobablyHotMarriedGirl and the other I call UnbearablyHotSingleGirl. I think I've used other, less descriptive, nicknames in the past, but I'm not sure. It doesn't matter anyway. They are TeamHotness, and I'm totally smitten with them.

Also, I've been trying to get some people to play 20 Questions with me. To guess what I bought at the mall. RockGirl isn't playing right, and I doubt she'll ever get it. StalkerGirl didn't respond to me until late. But NotHideousGirl played along via text-messaging and guessed correctly in thirteen questions.

Once TeamHotness left, it got boring really quickly. I ordered another Fastenbier, but I only drank a little bit of it (98). Then I talked to this one PBD about various crap. Some of the crap we talked about was LaptopGirl, and I got sad for a while, but I got over it quickly enough I suppose.

Near the end of the night I had an unexpectedly powerful urge to make out with NotHideousGirl. But I didn't. Partly because she wasn't there, but mostly for other reasons beyond my control. Such as, apparently, my hair color. So instead I just came home and petted my cats.

Not the same thing at all.

It was still a good night, though.

So tonight was virtual Friday for me. I'm off work tomorrow. Along with, apparently, every other person on Earth. Because every person on Earth was at Rich O's tonight. Except for about three people who I'd really liked to have seen. But, oh well.

Tonight featured two highlights for me. First, and I'm only mentioning this to justify the title of this entry, I had two yummy glasses of Aecht Schlenkerla Fastenbier (60).

Second, and this is the really cool part, I got to talk to a really cute girl for a few hours. She was there with SassyBoy, and she was nice, and cute, and young. Plus, she thought I was 25-years-old.

For some reason, partly because she asked but mainly because I'm stupid, I told her how old I am. The look on her face was priceless. Probably the same look I'd have gotten if I'd clawed my way out of a grave right in front of her. Except there was slightly less screaming in terror.

And now I'm completely smitten with this girl. This is a good thing, as long as I never see her again. I mean, it's pretty damn cool to be distracted from everyone and everything else for a few hours. That's what she did. She distracted me.

Oh, wait. She didn't quite distract me from thinking about one certain person, but c'mon, only HatGirl can do that.

That's right, a rare Wednesday Beer Report. Mainly because I had a couple of new beers and I've been slacking off on describing new beers lately.

Anyway.

For lunch, I had a yummy Newcastle (2180) at The Pub. NotHideousGirl was a no-show today, but that was okay. I talked to this BikerGirl bartender. She's nice. And smoldering hot. And about twenty years too young for me. I found out what the Japanese characters on her tattoo mean. I'd been hoping for, I secretly lust after Dave, but alas, they mean something totally different.

At least, she says they mean something totally different.

After work I went to Rich O's to see what new beers Gravity Head had in store for me. I saw a couple of beers that looked interesting, and chose my first one via a mental coin flip.

Clipper City Heavy Seas Holy Sheet (10)

(draft) Dark clear copper. Good head. Smelled like a barleywine, and pretty much tasted like one too. That weird flavor of beets or prunes or whatever it is - I don't like it. This beer did grow on me a little as the glass got more empty, but I still can't really say that I liked it.

HotGirlsHotCousin casually mentioned that her cousin was coming in. So I had a little anxiety attack which wasn't allowed to develop into a full-fledged panic attack because, when her "cousin" came in, it wasn't BadPickleGirl at all. Nope, it was some other cousin who I remember meeting briefly a couple of months ago.

My next, and last beer, was another new one for me.

Aecht Schlenkerla Fastenbier (20)

(draft) Cloudy dark brown. Medium head. Delicious smoke aroma. Flavor was pretty good. Much more subdued than other Schlenkerla offerings. Maybe a little bacony, but this was surprisingly good.

There was just the cutest girl at Rich O's last night.

Now, I know that sometimes women object to being called girls. At least the ones who are bitches do. But this girl, this girl last night was so young, and so cute, that the word girl was a perfect fit. Plus, as it turned out, she wasn't a bitch, so I'm sure she won't mind.

This girl was allegedly 21-years-old. I didn't ask for ID, though. And neither did anyone else as far as I could tell. If she'd been carded, revealed to be underage, and subsequently asked to leave, I'm sure there'd have been a riot. Incited by me. And nobody wants to deal with that. Friday nights are busy enough.

Meanwhile, I have age spots that are older than this girl. Oh well.

The point I was going to make was that she reminded me of the sister of my sister's ex-husband. Joyce was equally cute, and almost as young, the last time I saw her. Which was years ago. I think she's married now. Oh well.

Rich O's was pretty packed when I arrived, but I was able to grab a seat at the island with MusicalYuppieDude and TremensGirl and some PBDs. I'd been planning to have myself a Mad Bitch, but it had blown, so I had an Urthel Samaranth Quadrium (92).

I listened to the PBDs talk about various crap. I joined in the conversation a few times, but mostly I just listened to everyone else. And looked at the cute girl sitting on the loveseat.

My next beer was going to be a Bell's Sparkling Ale, which I remember quite fondly from the one time I had it back in December 2005. But that was blown too. Shit! I should have had it first. Oh well.

So I had myself a Left Hand Snow Bound (92).

Lately, I've been quite remiss in describing new beers here. I'm still putting my reviews into my official beer list, but failing to transcribe those reviews into this journal.

I will try to get back on-track. At least this once.

Left Hand Snow Bound

(draft) Clear dark copper in color. Good head and lacing. Strong spice and malt aroma and flavor. Mouthfeel seemed a little watery at first, but it seemed to thicken as the glass emptied. Flavor is nutmeg and cinnamon and a touch of citrus. A lingering slightly hoppy finish. A yummy beer.

Once the island conversation shifted from fun topics, like one person's whore grandmother, to divisive political topics, I picked up my shit and moved over to the sofa and talked to those people for a while. I finished my Snow Bound and ordered a bottle of Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier, but only drank half the bottle (1757). That damn Quadrium had been too ambitious a beginning, I guess.

One chick came in to smoke a cigarette and told me that I looked like I was 19. So she was clearly drunk. I mean, I've been accused, many times, of looking younger than my years, but people usually guess me to be in my early 30s. Not my fucking late teens.

I did get to talk to the cute girl for a while. That's how I found out she wasn't a bitch. But then she and her friends left and some other strangers filled in the empty spaces. I got bored and went to White Castle and then came home.

I hate how I've been putting off my beer reports lately. I've been putting them off for so long that I never get around to writing them. And then if I do decide to write them, they end up being a gazillion lines long.

Like this one will probably be. Oh well, can't be helped. I need these things to keep track of my own comings and goings. Like I don't have a fucking clue what I did last Saturday night.

Let's see. Friday night I went to this stupid Mac's place again to listen to NotHideousGirl sing karaoke. I had a couple Newcastles (3944) and a couple Blue Moons (448). All were good, but they were about the only things good about the night. I couldn't hear NotHideousGirl sing at all. I don't know if it was her, or if it was the noise in the place, or if it was the karaoke sound system being messed-up. I could hear the other singers, the ones who sucked, just fine though. So it was probably that NotHideousGirl sang too softly.

Then the entire night started to take on a sour note because women are weird and often mean. Plus, WeirdGirl started drunk-dialing me. The calls started out angry and, over the course of about a half-dozen calls, ended up being sad. Since the situation at Mac's had been rapidly deteriorating for an hour or so anyway, I left there and went to talk to WeirdGirl. I think we're okay now. She'd been hearing rumors and making assumptions. I straightened her out. The truth didn't exactly make her happy, but it wasn't nearly as bad as what she'd been thinking.

Anyway.

Saturday evening my friend Eric called to see what I was doing. It was his birthday, and he figured he'd be out later. So that was cool. It promised to distract me from the panic attack I was having, wondering if MixedSignalGirl was going to call about her CD.

I left home at about 6:00, and went over to Louisville. I went to The Pub and had a Newcastle (3964) and some cold fries and nuclear-hot chicken tenders. The place was really packed, and I got claustrophobic, so I didn't stay. I stopped by Hard Rock and talked to CoolHairGirl for a few seconds, but that place was packed with kids, so I went to Rich O's at 8:00 or so.

I was in a pretty shitty mood until I got to Rich O's. My mood got a lot better when I saw that TeamHotness was sitting out front. They always make a big deal out of seeing me because I'm so awesome.

Rich O's proper was full of mostly strangers, but the throne was open so I sat there and ordered an Urthel Samaranth Quadrium (56). I love that beer. Tried to talk to some of the weird people around me, but I didn't really have any luck until this one hot girl came in and sat on the arm of the loveseat. Our proximity pretty much required that we talk, so we did. I'll call her BBCGirl. She's nice.

At about the time I started my third Quadrium (76) things started happening at a rapid pace. OddlyFamiliarGirl came in and I talked to her for a bit. I also, as promised, put in a good word for Roger to her. I think my exact words were, "Roger says to put in a good word for him if I see you so, Yay Roger!"

I made sure to raise my hands in the air to add emphasis.

OddlyFamiliarGirl confessed to reading my journal, so that was weird. Hi, OddlyFamiliarGirl!

Then TeamHotness came into Rich O's proper and crammed in next to me and, for half of the team, on top of me. I really like those two, and I wish they'd come in more often.

Then, surprise!

HatGirl!

Yay!

She was a little grouchy because of the crowd I guess, but grouchy HatGirl is still a zillion times better than no HatGirl. LuckyFucker was with her of course, and this time he seemed to be the one in a decent mood. Wonders never cease. We three stood in the middle of the room for a bit, but when a couple of strangers finally left the sofa we moved back to that area. Then TeamHotness came in again and reminded me that I'm awesome.

Then my friend Eric showed up, and I made everyone sing Happy Birthday to him. I don't think he cried, but I'm sure he thought it was a nice thing to do.

There were no more seats available in the living room area, so Eric and I went up and sat at the island. HatGirl joined us there, and we just talked about various fluff for the next hour or so. Once HatGirl and LuckyFucker left, WomanRepellant joined us for a while.

I ended up drinking the rest of HatGirl's Quadrium (82). I think it was too strong for her. But, Yay for free beer!

Eventually, WomanRepellant left. Everyone left actually. Eric and I stayed and talked until the bartender kicked us out. Then I went to White Castle and then came home.

When I got home, I was still excited that I'd got to see HatGirl, so that's what the previous entry was for. Just letting off some extra steam.

It's recently come to my attention that I write boring stuff. Especially when it comes to my beer reports. There are, in fact, surprisingly few people who care what I drink when I go to the bar. And even fewer care about where I sit, or who I talk to while I'm there.

So I'll try to be less boring. But I can't make any promises.

Saturday night at Rich O's wasn't nearly as bad as I'd feared. The Daytonians who usually overrun the place on the first Saturday of Gravity Head were, apparently, diverted to Columbus. At least most of them were. Only a half-dozen or so made it here to New Albany and, as luck would have it, they were the polite and charming half-dozen.

So that was nice.

Let's see, my first beer was an Avery The Beast (22), and my next two were Koningshoeven Quads (376).

MusicalYuppieDude was on the rag over something or other. Probably some chick, they're all trouble. Too bad they control the world's pussy supply.

I found out that WomanRepellant's mom passed away last weekend. That really sucks. They were quite close, and he'll get my full condolences when I run into him again.

Oh yeah, this one dude ordered, I shit you not, an NABC Community Dark. This is an odd enough thing to do during Gravity Head, but get this - he ordered the thing with a fucking lemon wedge. The obvious yet unstated request - that the bartender also spooge into the guy's glass - was not granted. And for that I'm grateful. Nobody wants to see that. Except for LemonWedgeGuy I guess.

Anyway, as I hinted at a couple of entries ago, when I left Rich O's I went over to see WeirdGirl. I've changed her nickname because, well, because she's weird. I mean, two weeks ago when she found out how old I am, she basically accused me of being a child rapist. Now I guess it's okay. She says it doesn't bother her. I think maybe she gets off on it. Or maybe she figures I'll die in the throes of passion and she'll inherit my kingdom.

Sunday morning I didn't feel like going home. So I decided to go for a drive. I asked WeirdGirl if she wanted to go, but she declined. Fine with me. I needed to do some soul-searching anyway. Needed to try to find myself as I seem to have gotten lost lately.

Well I drove all the way to St. Louis and back, and I never did find myself. I'm a slippery bastard I guess.

I should have written this entry when I got home last night, but instead I wrote an email to RockGirl and, by the time I finished that, I was too tired.

So now I've got to try to go by memory. There was a lot of stuff. I'm sure I'll leave something important out. As an excuse I offer up the indisputable fact that I'm old.

Anyway, last night was the start of Gravity Head 2007, which is the annual Rich O's beer festival featuring high gravity (as in high alcohol) beers. The first weekend of Gravity Head is typically the busiest time of the year at Rich O's.

I'd planned to go there at my more-or-less regular time, like maybe 8:00. But when I was on my way home from work my sister Dina called and said that she was probably going there because she was bored. So I stopped by my house just long enough to change clothes and do a little straightening up, then I went to Rich O's. I got there at 6:30 or so.

I parked on Mars, and to help kill some time during the trek from my parking spot to Rich O's, I called SassyGirl and told her that I'd arrived early.

Inside, it was of course crowded as fuck. The special people section was full of PBDs, and the loser area and the front area were all full of strangers. Inside Rich O's proper, it was packed as well, but not as bad as I'd feared. It wasn't quite standing room only.

Dina was sitting on the loveseat talking to GlassesGirl. I sat on the coffee table and ordered my first beer. Koningshoeven Quadrupel has recently become one of my all-time favorites, and this was the first time I'd seen it on tap. So of course that's what I had first (356).

Then this one chick left the kiddie table so I moved over there. TallLady was in the throne, so I talked to her and to Dina and GlassesGirl. The chick who's seat I'd taken came back and we talked for a bit as well.

Some strangers left the sofa at about the time that SassyGirl and JauntyGirl and SassyBoy arrived, and they sat there. TallLady left the throne, so I sat there. Dina's husband Kenny had also arrived by that time. My second beer was a new one for me.

Kasteelbier du Chateau Triple Blonde (10)

(draft) Hazy dark ruby-colored. Minimal head. Mild fruity aroma. A smooth and creamy mouthfeel and flavor, with a hint of an alcohol bite at the end. Damn good.

HatGirl!

Yay!

First thing I had to do was introduce Dina to HatGirl. So now Dina can stop worrying that I'd just conjured HatGirl up in my imagination. As unlikely as it may seem, she's real.

Let's see, at one point I got a weird picturemail of some meat from NotHideousGirl. What was even more strange was that when I went to reply, I got FutureDude's cellphone instead. FutureDude checked his phone, and he'd certainly not sent me any meat pictures, or any other pictures. So that was very strange, and eventually I'll talk to NotHideousGirl and asked her (a) What's with the picture of the meat? and (b) How'd she do that?

My third beer was another new one for me.

Schmaltz HeBrew Genesis 10:10 (10)

(draft) A very nice surprise. Dark clear amber. Minimal head. No detectable aroma. The yummy malty and fruity flavor came out of nowhere. There are supposed to be citrus adjuncts but I couldn't detect them at all.

One time I went outside to make a phone call, but HatGirl followed me and I ended up talking to her for a while instead. Got some shit off my chest, but mainly I urged her to not read too much into what I'd written Thursday night. Pointed out that I'd been drinking when I wrote it.

Then Dina and Kenny left, and HatGirl and LuckyFucker left. SassyGirl told me that they were leaving town Saturday (today) instead of Sunday, so there was much hugging and wailing when they left.

My fourth beer was yet another new one for me.

Regenboog t-Smisje BBBourgondier (10)

(draft) Clear dark copper-colored. Decent head and lacing. A dry fruit aroma and flavor. The alcohol is hidden very well. Pretty damn good.

At about midnight or so I gave Roger a ride home, stopping at White Castle on the way, then I came home myself.

It was a good night.

This entry brought to you by Brother Thelonious (75) from the North Coast Brewery.

I have a feeling, a near certainty actually, that this entry isn't going to be published. It's not going to be good enough. It's not going to be worthy of the thoughts and feelings driving its creation. So, I figure, maybe I'll just use this as a practice entry. I'll save it in my drafts folder and then some night I'll be drunk or lonely and I'll rewrite it as something worthy of being published.

Or maybe not.

So SassyGirl is back in town for a visit. I wish I could describe here how fucking wonderful it was to see her Tuesday evening, and Wednesday evening. How much I look forward to seeing her tomorrow night at Rich O's. I wish there were some words that I could use to adequately describe how happy I've been to see her. Words that I could use without fear of people reading the wrong feelings into my words. I doubt that such words exist, and if they do, they continue to elude me.

It is just a visit though. I can't let myself get too satisfied with my life. Such as it is. In a few days or maybe a week, everything will go back to the way it's been for months. Me vs. the world.

You know, I used to never have any friends. All I ever had was acquaintances. They came into my life, and they left my life, and I noticed that they'd gone, but I didn't care. Not really.

All of that changed with LaptopGirl. Sure, I may not have been much to her, but she was my friend. And she came into my life, and she left my life, and I definitely noticed. I may have written about it from time to time, how much I fucking noticed. I don't see her anymore. I've seen a girl who looks like her, and sounds like her, a couple of times. But it's not her. It's not my friend. I don't even think that person ever really existed, except in my head. And my heart.

Anyway.

I met SassyGirl about a month after I met LaptopGirl. In this blog, I used to call her RealTrainGirl. That seems like a million years ago. SassyGirl is so much more fitting. Anyway, that time, the relationship was pegged from the start to remain a platonic one. That time, I never had any of those pesky romantic feelings get in the way.

And you know what?

It was wonderful.

Then SassyGirl left, and once again, I fucking noticed. I was sad. But it was okay. She'd said goodbye. We said goodbye to each other. And besides, it was never going to be forever. We'd see each other again.

Like six months later. Like Tuesday evening.

So that was cool. And it will continue to be cool, like I said, for a few more days or maybe a week. Then we'll say our goodbyes again. And it will be okay, because we'll know that it won't be forever.

Now, this next part is going to be a little tough for me to write. Tough because it's a tough subject for me, and tough because I can just about guarantee that it's going to be misinterpreted.

But I've got to write this. If I don't, if I don't then I'm going to explode some night.

The thing is, everybody leaves.

I think that at least a part of me has known this for a long time. Nothing lives up to the expectations originally hinted at or hoped for. Nothing lasts. Nothing.

Ahem.

HatGirl is leaving.

In either fifteen months or in ten months, she is leaving. The deadline varies but its meaning to me and my life - such as it is - is as steady as a rock.

When HatGirl leaves, it's going to destroy me. It's going to destroy me and every bit of the progress I've made since LaptopGirl left. And I think that there's not a thing I can do about it. I could start to pull away right now, but that would not lessen the blow. I could strive to make every day that I have left count, but that would only delay the inevitable.

It's my fault, of course. It's pretty much always my fault.

It's not love, I once wrote, but it's something.

Something that I should have seen coming. Something that I should have nipped in the bud, as they say.

And now, now I find myself unable and/or unwilling to write anything more about this. What else could I say?

HatGirl is leaving. Those three words. Those three fucking words.

They sear my soul.

I have a tiny confession to make now. One that will come as zero surprise to anyone who's been reading my drivel for any length of time.

I don't know what I'm fucking talking about. Or writing about. What the fuck ever.

Luckily, for me, and for you at home, I sometimes have help. Like tonight. Tonight I've been fortunate and privileged enough to have had The Reverend (370), from the Avery Brewing Company, join me for an evening of contemplation and soul searching.

I've had a question on my mind for a couple of years now. Closer to three years actually, but it doesn't matter exactly how long it's been. This question is eternal, and it's been asked by nearly everyone since the beginning of the beginning of the beginning of consciousness.

It's been asked for a long fucking time, in other words.

It's a two-part question actually. The first part is Is it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?

The answer to that question is, of course, fucking yes and yes and yes and fucking yes.

I've written about this before, and it's actually one of the few subjects in which I don't feel like I'm just pulling answers out of my ass.

It's approximately seven hundred gazillion asstillion times better to have loved than to never have loved. Go ahead. Prove me wrong. I dare you to try.

And the really neat thing is, to love and then lose doesn't change a fucking thing. We live to love.

I'll say it again. We live to love.

Losing is, while not quite irrelevant, losing is nothing nothing nothing nothing fucking nothing compared to the loving.

So that's the first part of the two-part question.

The second part of the question is Why is it better?

And, tonight at least, I know the answer. At least as much as someone like me can know the answer.

The answer is actually quite simple.

Because sometimes, like maybe once in a lifetime if you're lucky, you don't lose.

Because sometimes, you get to love and you get to win.

To love is to open yourself to that possibility. To surrender yourself to that possibility of happiness. To allow yourself to have hopes, and dreams, and to imagine just how incredibly wonderful life could be.

If only.

This time.

I could be loved back.

Then I would win.

That hope, that trumps everything else. All of the pain. All of the heartache. All of the disappointment and the depression and the suicidal thoughts.

Hope is what separates us from the animals. Hope is what makes us human. So we keep looking. Even after failure after dismal failure, we keep looking for hope.

And, when we find ourselves in love, we also find the hope that's been buried so deeply within us that we almost forgot it existed. Love unearths it, and breathes new live into it, and resurrects it.

It takes over.

Nothing else matters.

Nothing else exists.

We become hope.

And I can't think of a loftier goal.

Someday, I hope to love and win.

Not a bad night, I suppose. A little irritating at times, but I've already gotten over it.

First thing I did was get something to eat at Wendy's. They have these fancy bread sandwiches, panini or something like that, that are delicious. Especially the steak and mushroom version, which is what I had.

Then I went to The Pub and had a couple Newcastles (3524) and talked to a couple of chicks from Canada, eh.

Oh yeah. I found out something very interesting. But of course I can't write about it. I'll just say that I came within three years of realizing a pretty common male sexual fantasy.

When I left The Pub I was planning to head over to Rich O's and have a Rogue Smoke, but I peeked into the Hard Rock, like I usually do, when I walked by. I was, as usual, looking to see if CoolHairGirl was working. And this time she was!

So instead of going to Rich O's I went in and had a Diet Coke and talked to CoolHairGirl for a while. It turned out that she'd still never made it to The Pub for a Newcastle, so when she got off work I invited her to join me for one.

Then, as I wrote in the previous entry, her boyfriend materialized and he joined us as well. I swear, I didn't even know CoolHairGirl had a boyfriend. Now I feel slightly guilty about some of the thoughts that have been running through my head about CoolHairGirl.

Anyway, I had a Newcastle (3544) and then a couple of Diet Cokes while I talked with CoolHairGirl and PajamaDude.

Plus there was this one chick who I thought might be a friend of my sister. So I went over and asked her. It turned out that I had her name right, and that she did know a girl with the same name as my sister, but it still wasn't the girl I'd thought she was. Still pretty weird.

At 1:00 or so I came home.

Just a couple of surprises, both of the pleasant variety. So I was worried for nothing.

I got to Rich O's after 9:00. I got a parking spot in the actual Rich O's parking lot, so like a dumbass I thought that maybe it wouldn't be too crowded.

Wrong.

It was packed as fuck. With mostly strangers but quite a few weirdoes as well. Luckily I didn't see any fuckheads or idiots. I did see my cousin Jamie sitting in the loser section when I first walked in. I count him as a stranger.

Inside Rich O's proper, I gave Bubbles some shit for the crowd. It was supposed to be her night to keep the weirdoes away. She said that she didn't get the memo.

Anyway, the first pleasant surprise of the night was that Rogue Smoke was on tap. So I had one of those (530). I stood at the end of the bar for a while, then I moved some dude's jacket so I could sit at the kiddie table, then when the jacket dude left the throne I moved there.

Then it got boring for a while. But then a familiar and lovely shape darkened the doorway. I looked up, and it was HatGirl!

Yay!

So the next couple of hours were fun. Even though one drunk dude stole my seat when I went outside to take a phone call from work, and when I came back in I had to sit on the sofa. It was very nice to see HatGirl, and LuckyFucker seemed to be in a much better mood.

So all was good.

When I was about halfway through my second Rogue Smoke (550) a bit of reality started to sink in. Even though I've been doing my best to ignore and deny it. So I was glad that I could at least tell HatGirl a couple of things that had been on my mind. Then, of course, I apologized to her for dumping my problems onto her shoulders. She can take it though. And now maybe I can be a little less cryptic when I write about how bothered I am by all this.

Anyway.

I'd been kinda sorta halfway expecting to maybe even see SassyGirl last night. I talked to her Sunday, and she and JauntyGirl are slowly but surely making their way back towards Southern Indiana. But they didn't show last night. Oh well.

Once HatGirl and LuckyFucker left I had a Diet Coke and talked to FutureDude for a bit. Then I came home.

Before I get into my reviews of the girls this week, I should point out three things.

First, I will typically watch the performance, then write my thoughts. Then I'll listen to what the judges had to say. Randy I can always ignore because he's a racist asshole. Paula I can safely ignore because she's too damn nice, and she may be drunk. Simon, I usually end up agreeing with. Sometimes, if Simon and I really disagree, I'll write something about that fact. But usually not.

Secondly, I'm in a bad mood.

Thirdly, joining me for tonight's viewing was Brother Thelonious from the North Coast Brewery (50).

Gina: Very good. That one loud and out of tune background singer should be fucking shot though. I like Gina. (75 points)

Alaina: A good job, but this week her voice seemed very generic. There are lots of people on the radio who sound worse than her, but there are lots more who sound better than her. I gave her a million bonus points for being so hot. I thought the judges were way too harsh on her, and I'd like to hug her and pet her to make her feel better. (1,000,070 points)

LaKisha: She had her hair redone. It looks good. She looks her age now. She did an amazing performance of a great song. Give her the fucking title right now. (100 points)

Melinda: Stupid song, but an incredible performance. She finished particularly strong. No flaws. (100 points)

Antonella: She looks hot in a groovy dress. A good song, but her performance was wavering at times and flat at others. I adore Antonella, but not her singing. Now I'm in a bad mood. She seems so nice. I give her a half-million bonus points for not being stuck-up. (500,065 points)

Jordin: Disneyesque performance of a stupid song. Much better than last week though. (80 points)

Stephanie: Maybe it's all the fault of the horribly stupid song choice, but I thought this was a train wreck. (5 points)

Leslie: Adorable. Boring song. I took off 100 points for that stupid skat stuff. (negative 40 points)

Haley: Disconcertingly pretty. I really like her voice, and I thought she did a good job. (80 points)

Sabrina: She's managed to gain some depth to her voice in the past week. Wow. (85 points)

I got ready to leave at 6:00 last night. I didn't know where I might be going, but I wanted to be ready. For when she called. Just in case she'd changed her mind.

Well, at about 9:30 I got tired of doing nothing but glare at my phone, so I went to Rich O's.

It wasn't too packed there. A bunch of regulars were sitting in the living room area. Strangers were everywhere else. I sat at the kiddie table and had a Dark Horse Tres Blueberry Stout (100). This was supposed to have been a Saturnalia beer, but it had arrived quite late. It arrived quite late last year too.

Oh yeah, SpoonsGirl and SirTalksALot were sitting in the red room. I talked to them briefly when I first arrived.

Anyway.

Once a spot opened up on the sofa I moved over there.

It was boring, and when my phone finally vibrated at me I welcomed the diversion.

I went outside to talk to MixedSignalGirl. It was not a fun conversation, but it needed to happen. After all, moving on is what I've been trying to do for months. It's only reasonable for her to want to do the same thing. So, no more lunch dates. No more semi-planned meetings. Only happy accidents will be allowed from now on.

Speaking of moving on, I left Rich O's at 10:30 or so and went over to Hard Rock. I'd met a girl there yesterday, and she'd said that she might be there with her friends later. Well she wasn't there, but that's okay. I'm taking her to the 1950s tonight. At least that's the plan. I'm kinda being a pessimist.

I overslept this morning. I was supposed to be in Louisville at 10:00 to watch EllaGirl and 1000 other weirdoes jump into the Ohio River for some Special Olympics thing. But it's 9:54 as I type this sentence, so I don't think I'm going to make it. I'll go see EllaGirl at work in a couple of hours and see if she's still alive and, if so, what shade of blue she is.

I had fun today.

First, I overslept. So that was cool.

Then at lunch - Newcastle (3334) - I ran into NotHideousGirl. First time I've seen her since HatGirl's birthday party in December. So that was way cool.

Then we went to Borders so she could buy some CDs. This was about as useful as taking a blind man to the paint store, but I went anyway.

Oh yeah, I got a new Blackberry yesterday, and guess what.

It's got a camera!

Yay!

First time I've had a camera phone in months.

NotHideousGirl was kind enough to let me test the camera on her, and post the results here.

So that was fun. It was a little strange to leave a bookstore without any books though.

Then, after work, I went to the local hardware store to buy a bunch of PVC shit for my sink. I figured that I'd go ahead and give it a try, and then if I screwed it up Kenny could always come and laugh at me as he corrected my mistakes.

Well, I managed to twist the PVC stuff around enough so that now I have actual drains running from my sink. I also managed to install and wire up the new garbage disposal without killing myself.

Anyway, here's the old ugly sink.

And here's the new sink. Ta da!

Just so none of you people start to think I'm infallible, here's what's under the new sink.

Those bowls are because the new drain lines leak. Not very much, but enough to be annoying. So I called Kenny and apparently I need some Plumber's Putty to put between the sink and the traps. Either Kenny or I will get some of that, we'll tear everything apart and reinstall using the putty where appropriate, and then this project will be done!

Except that I think I need Kenny to use one of those snake thingies on the drain line that goes into the wall. Everything still drains pretty slowly.

And the garbage disposal works too! Nugget is scared of it.

I always like the girls nights, at least until all the hot girls have been eliminated. This year there's an abundance of hot girls, so I was really looking forward to tonight.

Joining me on tonight's viewing journey was a yummy bottle of Gulden Draak (271).

Stephanie: Born 60 years too late. A fantastic performance which I fear will be marginalized simply because it came first. (85 points)

Amy: Cute as fuck. She sang a little flat, and she mumbled a lot of words. (65 points)

Leslie: Also quite cute. Stupid song. She went flatline several times. (65 points)

Sabrina: Damn, another cute girl. No wonder I like girls night so much. Anyway, a technically perfect performance, but her voice has no depth. I don't know if she'll be able to overcome that handicap. (75 points)

Antonella: Smoldering hot. Singing was all over the map. Mostly all wet. I feel bad for her because she seems very nice and sweet. (60 points)

Jordin: Drunken karaoke at first, but the second half of the performance was much much better. I took off 10 points because she spells her name wrong. (65 points)

Nicole: A lovely girl. She jumped around between nasally and artificially low and screaming. I couldn't understand a word she sang. (50 points)

Haley: Adorable. I love her rich voice. Her performance was severely limited by her stupid song choice. I hope she gets a chance to pick a better song. (75 points)

Melinda: One of my favorites form the earlier shows. Still one of my favorites. Second-best of the night, I thought. (90 points)

Alaina: Fuckalicious. Fantastic voice, which she chose not to showcase by picking a Stevie Nicks song. I hope she stays, because I adore her. I gave her 10 bonus points because she's carrying my child. (75 points)

Gina: Cute as fuck. My absolute favorite from the earlier shows, and my absolute favorite after tonight. Fantastic song choice, fantastic performance. (95 points)

LaKisha: She's weird. She looks like she's 50-years-old until she sings, then she drops 30 years. She sang a huge song, and it wasn't even close to being big enough for her voice. This girl can fucking sing. (85 points)

Okay, I'll admit it. I'm an American Idol watcher. I've been hooked, more or less, since the first season. When I realized that I loved Kelly Clarkson.

For the last couple of years I haven't been as big of a fan. I usually stop watching the guys after a couple of weeks. I'll keep watching the girls, but eventually my favorites get eliminated and I stop watching altogether. Until the next season.

Like this season. I'll watch it for a while, and I'll make entries like this one for a while. but it will all stop eventually.

So don't get hooked on my reviews. Please. That's too much pressure for me.

Anyway, tonight the guys sang. This is always boring to me, probably because I don't have a vagina. But I watched, and I wrote down my impressions. I had a yummy Koningshoeven Quad (346) while I watched.

Rudy: Sang a Six Flags version of a Six Flags song. I know this guy can sing, but he chose to coast through tonight. He's a lot better than this. (80 points)

Brandon: I fell asleep he was so boring. I'm giving him 50 points because it's my birthday.

Sundance: Stupid name, but probably not his fault. Great song. He seemed a little unsure about what to do with his arms. He sang great though. (85 points)

Paul: His tone was way too low for this arrangement. The volume of his voice was also too low. (70 points)

Chris R: Drunken karaoke. Awful. (40 points)

Nick: I really like this guy's voice. I thought he did a great job. (87 points)

Blake: Great song. Started out great. Finished great. This guy really surprised me. A lot. (90 points)

Sanjaya: I fell asleep, and I only woke up when he mangled a note. Horrible. (20 points)

Chris S: I expected to really like this guy, and I was a little disappointed. Put him in front of a club band, and he'll shine. As a solo artist, not so much. (75 points)

Jared: Nice job. Forgettable, but nice. (80 points)

A.J.: There seems to be a rule that anyone named A.J. or AJ that goes on this show must suck. I shot pool until this guy was done. He gets 50 points only because it's my birthday.

Phil: My favorite guy from the earlier shows. He started out like his nuts were in a vise. Then he spent the next part overcompensating. He finished quite strong though. (75 points)

I was going to write a Monday beer report, but there's not much to write about, so I'll just cram that stuff at the beginning of this entry.

I had a half a Smithwick's (1454). I'd been planning to have a full pint but the keg blew when it was only halfway poured.

There were some people there. I didn't talk much. Mostly I just listened to everyone else.

Then I had two bottles of Delirium Tremens (858). Then I came home.

Ta da!

---

Today I've got a bunch of shit to do. So I'm taking a day of vacation.

I've got to go to my bank and try to find out why my card was denied twice over the weekend.

If the bank thing gets straightened out, I want to try the whole buy a kitchen sink thing again. Just maybe not at Lowe's. Depends on what the bank says.

I desperately need to get a haircut.

My driver's license expires at midnight, so I need to get a new one. First I have to find out where the BMV moved to. They're not over by Kelsey's anymore.

It seems like there's something that I'm forgetting.

So I chickened out. There was just no way that I could justify the risk versus the reward.

If HatGirl forgot my birthday I'd probably have been devastated and cried for a month. If she didn't forget my birthday, well then I'd have just been relieved.

So the risk of devastation was not worth the reward of relief.

I decided to fuck the risk. I called HatGirl and reminded her ass that tomorrow is my birthday before she'd have a chance to forget.

Then there was some phone juggling and I ended up having lunch with MixedSignalGirl. She's already having lunch with me Friday, so today was a big bonus for me.

Everything was nice and pleasant. Not a whole lot of tension between us anymore. I'd had a mild panic attack about ten minutes before she showed up, but I was fine after that.

Then EllaGirl decided to mess with us. She came over and, right in front of MixedSignalGirl, told me that she thought I'd left my hat in her apartment the other night.

Not cool.

This was, of course, utter bullshit. I only wear hats when I'm in disguise. So I sort of wondered out loud how many other guys it could belong to. Then EllaGirl stomped away.

EllaGirl deserved that for trying to stir up shit.

But MixedSignalGirl is a class act all the way. She didn't even bat an eye. She asked me if that was the famous EllaGirl, I said it was indeed, and that was it.

Oh yeah, during lunch I had a Newcastle (3304).

After MixedSignalGirl went back to work, I stayed and had a half-glass of Newcastle (3314) and talked to EllaGirl for a bit to see what her problem was. She acted like it was perfectly normal to go up and intrude like that. She said she was just being nosey, not possessive. I'm just glad that I wasn't on a first date with someone.

All this female interaction got me to missing BadPickleGirl, so I sent her an email of some cute animals. I'm not really expecting a response, but it would be a nice birthday present.

Tonight, it snowed. Not very much, but enough to scare the shit out of everyone except the most die-hard people. So Rich O's was pretty dead, and they started kicking people out very early.

It was a weird night. Ten minutes of interest, followed by two hours of boredom, then another ten minutes of interest, and another hour of boredom.

The interesting parts were provided by some drunk guy. I don't think I ever saw him before, but I guess he knew who I was. And apparently he didn't like the cut of my jib or something. He kept threatening to "knock my block off" - which was funny for the nostalgia brought on by that old-fashioned term at least as much as it was for the mental image of him actually trying. The dude could barely stand up.

Look, I'm sure he's a helluva nice guy. I'm sure he was just in a mood tonight. Live and let live, right?

My first beer was a bottle of Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier (1690). It was yummy as always.

So I sat on the throne. For a while I talked to a guy who proclaimed himself to be The Asshole. Not just any asshole, mind you, but The Asshole. I told him that it was an honor to meet him.

Then this one PBD sat and talked with me for a while. He told me something that really disturbed me. I guess that there are people at Rich O's who think that the whole DaveFest thing was my idea. That I thought up the concept of the customer appreciation festivals, and that I nominated myself to be the first honoree.

Nothing could be farther from the truth. Ask Roger. It was his idea, and picking me for the thing was his idea too. It was a huge honor for me, and it bugs me that some people think that it was my idea all along.

I may have an ego on me, but not that much of an ego.

Anyway, after a while WomanRepellant came in and sat on the sofa. Almost immediately, that same drunk guy tried to pick a fight with WomanRepellant. I'd venture to say that he came a lot closer to succeeding than he had with me. It took two or three people to restrain the guy and drag him away.

Like I said, I'm sure he's a nice guy. He's just a really mean drunk I guess.

About five minutes later DrunkGuy came back in, again, and tried, again, to pick a fight with WomanRepellant. He was dragged away, again.

It was kind of weird. I'd spent the first part of the night thinking that I must be really special to have DrunkGuy hate me so much. But as it turned out I wasn't special at all. Oh well.

The rest of the night was calm and relaxing. I had another Weihenstephaner (1707) and then I came home at 10:00 when they started kicking people out.

I don't know why I ended up going to Rich O's last night. I mean, I've skipped the last two Fridays at least, and it hasn't killed me. It's been nice actually. Because I didn't have to worry about being too disappointed if certain people didn't show up.

I don't know why I ended up going last night, but I did. I remember dreading it, both during the drive, and when I was looking for a parking spot. I had to park on Mars, so that was a bad sign.

The place was crowded as fuck. It took me at least five minutes to walk the ten feet between the front door and the entrance to Rich O's proper. Then, when I finally got there, I was blocked by a solid wall of people. It was standing room only in there. Strangers all over the fucking place.

But wait!

My sister's husband Kenny was part of the solid wall of people! My sister Dina was there too! Yay!

They were, as it turned out, celebrating this one blonde chick's birthday.

Anyway, I'm rambling.

After a year or so, I made it through the throng to the bar and I ordered a Brownings Bourbon Imperial Stout (82). I also talked to GlassesGirl. I hadn't seen her in months, so that was nice. Dina and I stood around for a while until some dude left the kiddie table, then we sat there and talked. I decoded a couple of my recent blog entries for her, because I guess I confuse her sometimes.

After a while the strangers left the living room area, so Kenny and the rest of Dina's group took over that area. I eventually moved to the throne.

I ordered another Brownings (98) but I didn't quite finish it.

Oh yeah, there was a smoldering hot girl ordering a growler of Arrogant Bastard, and I went up and talked to her for a while.

She ended up taking a raincheck. Oh well.

After Dina and crew left I had a Diet Coke, then I went to White Castle and then came home.

I woke up at 4:00 this morning, very dehydrated.

I've completely dropped the ball on my weekend beer report. It's Tuesday already, and I haven't even mentioned it.

Not that there's much to mention.

Friday, I stayed home. I was still sick. I had myself a couple of bottles of The Reverend (332) and the alcohol therein managed to do what Sudafed had failed to do - it dried my sinuses up to the point where I no longer feared that I'd drown in my own snot.

So by Saturday morning I was feeling much better. I actually felt like I was going to live. More than that, I felt like I wanted to live. Wonders never cease, huh?

Saturday afternoon, I preheated some empty pizza boxes and filled my house with smoke. So that was fun. I managed to keep the smoke alarm from going off by opening my windows and turning on my ventilation fan. Yes, it was fucking cold.

I think that would be a pretty shitty way to die. Burning my house down because I was too lazy to check my oven for trash before turning it on. Probably get a Darwin Award though.

Saturday night, I went to Rich O's. I sat in the throne with my yummy Wostyntje (229) and talked with MusicalYuppieDude and TremensGirl for a while. I was kinda feeling like a shithead. See, Saturday was the night of BadPickleGirl's birthday party, and I wasn't going. I'd politely declined her invitation.

But I guess the consensus is that I was not being a shithead. I detailed the situation, and the history, to MusicalYuppieDude and TremensGirl, and they both said that I shouldn't have gone to the party. In fact, they both said that I'd been way too nice about the whole thing. So that's good.

My next two beers were bottles of Delirium Tremens (836).

After MYD and TG left, I talked for a while with WomanRepellant, some chick who doesn't have a nickname, and a couple of strangers who'd sat on the sofa. I asked the chick for her opinion on the whole am I being a shithead thing, and she also said that I was being too damn nice.

Since I seemed to be in the mood for asking peoples' opinions, I borrowed one of the stranger's glasses for a bit, and held an informal frame-off. The stranger's frames are a lot like my own frames, just more rectangular than oval. The consensus was that I looked better with the more squarish frames. See, that's what I thought, back when I bought these glasses last year. But SassyGirl had told me that I should buy the ovalish ones. Next time, I'm going rectangular.

At 10:30 or so, I drunk-texted HatGirl. I haven't seen her in a million years. I tried to get her to come to Rich O's, but she declined.

So that sucked, and my mood plummeted.

I went over to Louisville and just basically dicked around for a while. Had a couple Diet Cokes. Talked to EllaGirl for a bit. Talked to the bartenders at The Pub for a bit. Then I bought some White Castles and came home at 1:30 or so.

Let's see, on Sunday I had to work all morning, then I went and drove all over Southern Indiana and Northern Kentucky, then I came back home.

First, I went down to Rich O's at a little after 3:00. They're having an art show in the special people section, and I wanted to buy one of NotHideousGirl's paintings if there were any still available. The one that I wanted was still for sale, so I snapped it up.

I had myself a Wostyntje (209) and looked at the rest of the art. It was nice to see that MisunderstoodGirl had also sold a painting.

I'd planned on heading straight over to Louisville after I left Rich O's, but like an idiot I'd left my Blackberry at home. This always cause for concern, but yesterday it was especially so because I'm on-call this weekend. So I went back home and dicked around for an hour or so, then I went over to Louisville. With my Blackberry this time.

After a quick meal, I went to The Pub. I had a couple Newcastles (3224) and talked to a couple of the bartenders. The place was pretty dead, but it was still fairly early. next I walked over to The Hard Rock. It was packed as fuck with birthday parties for screaming teenagers. That, plus the fact that CoolHairGirl wasn't working, kept me from staying there.

So I went down to The Red Star, and there were only like three customers. I told the cute bartender that it looked like they'd had a fire drill or something. I didn't stay there.

I walked through the alley to this Third Street Dive place that I'd gone to with EllaGirl last weekend. That place was dead too, but the HotLibrarian bartender assured me that it would pick up by 10:00. I had a glass of BBC Jefferson's Reserve Bourbon Barrel Stout (390) and looked at some weirdoes.

After a while, EllaGirl came in. She jokingly gave me some shit about ditching her last weekend. I explained my reasons. All was forgiven, and we moved over and sat at a little kiddie table. I had another Stout (406) and we talked and flirted and did various other things until a really loud band started playing. Then EllaGirl suddenly said that she was going to go clean her apartment, and to give her my number so I could come over after it was cleaned. I assured her that I didn't care how messy her place was, but she insisted.

So I gave her my number and she left.

I was pretty sure that she was going to flake on me, so I went back to The Pub. It was much more crowded by then. A bunch of hot girls and a bunch of yuppies trying to pick them up. I had a couple Diet Cokes, and a small sample of something new for me:

Belhaven Twisted Thistle IPA (4)

(draft) I'd never have guessed that this was an IPA. The aroma was mostly of malt and dirt, but good. Flavor was a little peaty and a little smoky. No bitterness. I liked it a lot more than I expected to.

And I don't feel guilty at all. Yet.

So I chickened out tonight. I stayed home, drank a bottle of Rare Vos (40), watched Apocalypse Now.

Just basically hid from the world, the idiots, the whores. And the disappointment and the pain and the anger.

Sometimes those things are all that I see. Or all I that I let myself see.

It's not you, world. It's me.

I don't remember much about Friday night. I'd been deprived of a nap by some unsettling news. I remember that Rich O's was crowded as fuck, and that I had some Wostyntje (149), and that I left early.

---

On Saturday, well at least she called. To tell me that she wouldn't be able to accompany me. Even though it was a negative RSVP, it was still was very nice and considerate of her, and it kept me from thinking that she might be a bitch or something. So that's good. I don't like thinking bad thoughts about people.

---

Plan B was DooRagGirl, but she was, understandably, hesitant to attend a party where she wouldn't know anyone but me. I am, apparently, not good enough on my own. Oh well. Story of my life, right there.

---

I had no real plan C, so I decided that I wouldn't be attending the party at all. Instead I was going to go to Louisville and hang out there for a while. Maybe talk to CoolHairGirl and see if she'd liked the Newcastle she'd finally tried.

But nooooooooooooooo!

I got a text message from HatGirl, leting me know that they were going to Rich O's.

So I went to Rich O's, where I sat with HatGirl (yay!) and LuckyFucker. He was being a dick for some reason. I don't know why. I had myself a couple glasses of Wostyntje (169) and talked to HatGirl about what lousy drivers we used to be.

After the happy couple left, I talked with DooRagGirl for an hour or so. I had another Wostyntje (179). I really like that beer. Plus, it's nice and light. I seem to have some kind of mental block about dark and heavy beers. Ever since my illness. That, and ground beef. Ugh.

Anyway.

Once DooRagGirl left, I became concerned that some weird people were going to try to talk to me, so I left too.

(Note: I have been working on being more sociable. It just doesn't seem to work very well at Rich O's.)

----

So I went over to Louisville. CoolHairGirl wasn't working, so I didn't get to see her. I went over to the pub and got to talking with EllaGirl. She actually remembered my name this time, so that was cool. After a while, we all went to this little dive bar so everybody could unwind. It was okay I suppose, but I'd cut myself off hours ago, so I could only sit and watch while EllaGirl and her friends got shitfaced while I drank Diet Cokes.

At 3:30 or so, I came home alone. By choice.

---

On Sunday, I didn't do much except play pool and watch a couple of movies. I watched Sleepy Hollow. HatGirl had told me before that she looks like Christina Ricci, but she's wrong. Christina Ricci fucking wishes that, on her best day, she looked a gazillionth as pretty as HatGirl looks on her worst day.

---

Sunday night I had one of the beers that I purchased the other day.

Unibroue Trois Pistoles (25)

(bottle) Black, revealing amber only when strongly backlit. Huge creamy head. Aroma of oak and malty apples and cherries. Flavor is like the aroma, only better. There's something else there, maybe grapes of all things. Pretty damn yummy.

Oh yeah, it's freaking cold here. It's supposed to get down to single digits tonight, with a wind chill of minus 8,000,000 or some crap like that. Also, it snowed all morning, but there's not even a light dusting. What a waste of cold weather. I hate Winter.

This entry brought to you by:

Unibroue Don De Dieu

(bottle) Hazy light amber in color. Huge head. Fantastic aroma of apple peels and bananas and cherries. A strong Belgian wheat flavor. More sharp and tangy than most. Think Blue Moon on steroids. Yummy.

Who was that guy? Seriously, who the fuck was he, and what was his problem?

Don't even try to tell me that guy was me. You'll never convince me. He might have looked like me, and sounded like me, and lived in my house, but he most definitely wasn't me. I would never allow myself to get that messed-up over losing something I never wanted in the first place. No way. That's just crazy.

That guy was fucked-up. I am normal.

For example:

I miss LaptopGirl. As a friend and nothing else. I'm allowed to miss my friend, so fuck off if you don't like it.

I miss MixedSignalGirl. As much more than a friend. But I'm so happy for her, that she's finally found the happiness that was misplaced when she met me. And there's a contentedness about her now. I don't think she ever had that before. I will not take any credit for that transformation, but I'm sure as hell glad that I got to see it.

I miss HatGirl. Because, more than anyone else, she reminds me of the good that is possible in the world. Of how wonderful people can be as long as they just stop trying, and just be themselves.

I miss BadPickleGirl. And I wonder what happened. I'd thought we were getting along just fine. I'd thought there was potential there. Damn she's beautiful.

I miss KittenDamsel. I hope that she's doing okay, and I hope that she finds what she's looking for.

And my dear friend SassyGirl. The only truly platonic girlfriend I've ever had, and maybe the best of them all.

I miss RockGirl. Though I've never met her. Though we email each other every day. She is my strength, and I weaken when too many hours pass without her.

There are so many others. MysteryGirl. PictureGirl. EnglishGirl. PonyTailGirl. EllaGirl. MaineGirl. The girl with the beautiful brown eyes. The girl who was married to my best friend.

I miss them all.

But I'm okay. I'm not obsessed.

I'm normal.

Sane.

Finally.

Wow, two decent nights in a row at Rich O's. I'd never have believed it. Especially not on a weekend when I knew there'd be no HatGirl sightings.

I got there at 8:30 or so, and parked on Mars. The local PBDs and some Cincy PBDs were having a big meeting in the special people area. So that place was packed, but Rich O's proper wasn't too bad. Some weirdoes were in the living room area, and some strangers were at the island. I sat at the end of the bar and had a Wostyntje (129).

Oh yeah, yesterday I stopped at this liquor store and bought about $100 worth of Belgian ales - the big 25-ounce bottles. Mostly stuff I've never had before, but a couple of known favorites. I tried to call BadPickleGirl to let her know about these fantastic new tasting opportunities, but I got no answer. I pretty much managed to convince myself that she wasn't ignoring my call. Pretty much.

Some drunk dude sat next to me at one point, and he kept trying to talk to me, but then Roger distracted him with talk of jazz, so I picked up my shit and moved to the island since the strangers had left.

After a while, UPSDude came and joined me. I spent the next couple of hours talking with him. I also made a couple of trips into the special people area to talk to some of the PBDs. On one such trip, there were a bunch of Cincy PBD girls standing around in a group. I wanted to meet them, so I "accidentally" bumped into one. That got me shanghaied into about five minutes worth of dance lessons. It was that riverdance crap. I kept trying to protest, pointing out that I'm both straight and white. The former preventing me from being able to master that particular dance style, and the latter preventing any other styles that they might want to suggest. But they kept trying, like I said, for about five minutes. Eventually they gave up and I was allowed to leave.

One of the girls was wondering out loud if I'd be blogging about it. I guess she can stop wondering now.

Let's see, my next two beers were both Delirium Tremens (814). No, it's not on tap right now. I had two bottles. I just wanted something light so I wouldn't have a repeat of Friday night's time bomb.

Shortly after UPSDude left, the PBD meeting broke up, and a lot of them came swarming into Rich O's proper. I got a little claustrophobic after a while, and I came home at around midnight.

Okay, so that one particular cool thing didn't happen. But it was still a pretty nice night. I got to relax and look at pretty girls. And I got to wear my cool new t-shirt.

They're having a big S.I.G.H. convention around here somewhere, and all the girls seemed to have picked Rich O's as the place to unwind. From their hotness seminars or pillow fight tournaments or whatever they do at those things.

So the place was packed, but there were at least ten very pretty girls there. This is at least nine and a half more than usual. Pretty girls definitely make the crowd bearable.

When I first arrived, I sat on the loveseat. Some semi-acquaintances were scattered about the rest of the living room area. They know SassyGirl, so I told them about how I'd finally been getting emails from her. We talked for a bit about the good old days of lesbian mud-wrestling parties. I had an NABC Old Lightning Rod (190).

After a bit I moved up to the island and sat with MusicalYuppieDude and some PBDs. My second beer was a Wostyntje (119).

CoffeeDude and WomanRepellant came in at some point. I was talking to them when the President of S.I.G.H. arrived with some dork. I almost lost all self-control, and it's only thanks to CoffeeDude's impromptu therapeutic intervention that I kept from making a complete fool of myself. I did, however, have a Rogue Smoke (450) and then couple of Diet Cokes to kill some time so I could keep looking at Madam President when the opportunities arose.

Oh yeah, at 10:00 or so I drunk-emailed BadPickleGirl. This is always a waste of time because she won't even get the thing until Monday.

Anyway, I've been developing this theory about beer. About me and beer actually. There are some beers, and some combinations of beers, that I simply should not be drinking.

Last night I stumbled on one such combination.

I felt fine when I left Rich O's, at about midnight. I spent some time digging around for some batteries for my camera. Then I took those two awesome pictures above.

Right after I took the second picture, I fell back against the wall, and I was immediately drunk.

Spinning room drunk.

Pretty damn weird.

So I didn't get to practice pool last night. Instead I went to bed and hoped that I wouldn't get sick.

I didn't.

Wednesday was a pretty good day. Thursday wasn't so great. A couple of people in my life got some disturbing news, and I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do. Or say. Or feel. Please note that these instances are completely unrelated to my previous entry. In that case, I know exactly what I should do, which is nothing.

After work, I went by Rich O's to have their Old Lightning Rod beer (170). They only have this available in January. It's some kind of tribute to Ben Franklin. I wish they'd have it on all the time because it's one of the best beer they've ever made there.

When I got home, I was supposed to just take a nap, but I slept right through my alarm. My two-hour nap ended up being a six-hour sleep. So now it's almost 2:00 and I'm wide awake.

I kept a schedule like this on purpose for a while. I actually liked it. The solitude I got from just being at home always seemed to be magnified in the middle of the night, and I liked it.

Now, not so much. I don't know what's changed. I guess there's a fine line between solitude and loneliness, and at some point over the past few months I've crossed that line.

Oh, well.

Maybe I'll read a book. One of the Heinlein juveniles. They're nice quick reads.

I've been trying to remember if I ever saw them both on the same night before. I can't recall any such night.

Hey universe, seriously, one per night is enough, okay?

My night started out at The Pub in Louisville, with some curry fries and a yummy Newcastle (2934). Shortly after I arrived, I found myself wondering if I'd see MixedSignalGirl. I just had a feeling that I would. I actually got a little nervous just thinking about it. So, to either ease or confirm my concern, I asked her. I texted her, told her I was at The Pub, and asked if she'd be there.

She responded that she'd be there at 8:30.

Yay!

I found myself with forty-five minutes to kill - forty-five minutes which dragged on for a million years. It would have been nice if I could have gone into a quickie coma or something so I wouldn't have had to wait. It's funny. I've played very important pool matches. I've presented to captains of industry, and generals of the military. I can speak to any crowd on a wide range of topics. I don't get nervous doing any of those things. Yet, when it comes to MixedSignalGirl, I still shake like a leaf. I had another Newcastle (2954) to calm my nerves.

She showed up right on time, which was odd. She was beautiful, which was expected.

The Pub was pretty busy. There were no booths open. Plus this one cow that we didn't want to see was there, so we went across the street to the poolhall Felt where we could have some privacy.

It was very nice to see her. The friendship is still there. I'd had no real idea, until last week, how much the thought that she hated me was dragging me down. When I saw her last week, a huge weight lifted from my shoulders. This was more of the same. I float when I'm with her. We're friends again. Anything else, well anything else still seems to be beyond our capabilities. Eventually, we'll learn to deal with that.

At 9:30, her friends started calling her, wondering where she was, and so we parted company.

Next, I went to Hard Rock and had a Winter's Bourbon Cask Ale (84). I tried to talk to CoolHairGirl, but it was pretty busy in there, so we only got to chat for a minute or two. One thing she told me was that she'd never had a Newcastle. I told her that The Pub has the best Newcastle around, and she said that she might go in there with her friend later. She promised to let me know what she thought.

Next, I went over to Rich O's. I went to the restroom as soon as I arrived, and when I came out, lo and behold, there was LaptopGirl, standing there talking to ExBartender.

Yay!

I said Hi and waved at her, even though I was standing about a foot from her. I was a little flustered. I'd been all set to spend the rest of the night missing MixedSignalGirl, and those plans had suddenly gone out the window. Now, I had to shift gears. Now I had to act like a normal person for a while. Make LaptopGirl think I was a normal person.

Inside Rich O's proper, I talked to MisunderstoodGirl for a minute or two. Normally, of course, seeing MisunderstoodGirl would be a cause for minor celebration and several minutes of talk. But not with LaptopGirl in the room. Plus, she was busy talking with OddlyPrettyGirl.

The throne was empty, so I sat there. On the sofa sat BigWheelGirl, LaptopGirl, and WeatherGirl. On the loveseat sat a couple of hippies. Those five were all there together, and I felt a little bit like I was intruding. But what was I supposed to do, sit at the bar? With LaptopGirl to my back? No fucking way.

Oh yeah, beer. I had a Wostyntje (109), and a small sample of something new to me.

Brooklyn Black Chocolate Stout (4)

(draft) Black with a large tan head. Fantastic chocolate and malt aroma. The flavor is chocolately and roasty. Very roasty. I'm not even sure that's a word, but I'm using it anyway. Pretty damn good. The 10.6% ABV is very well hidden.

But, she wasn't there to see me. She was there with her friends. And I didn't want to intrude. Actually, that's a lie. I most certainly did want to intrude. I wanted to intrude the hell out of her. Drag her off someplace so we could have an actual conversation. Like the old days. I wanted to intrude, but I somehow restrained myself. Like the old days.

After a while, I gleaned that she'd be heading Westward again soon. So when she got up to leave, I must have said goodbye about a million times. That wasn't enough, so when she was out in the front area saying goodbye to some people out there, I stood and I watched her, and every time our eyes met, I mouthed the word goodbye again.

And then she left, and I started missing her again.

After that, I spent some time spilling my guts to WeatherGirl, because she asked, then I spent some more time trying to undo that damage.

After they started kicking everyone out of Rich O's, I went over to this Jack's place and had myself a PBR (36) and pretended that I was a normal person again.

Yesterday, for lunch, I had four french fries and a Newcastle (2914) at The Pub. After that, I was completely stuffed, but I wasn't sick.

Yay!

So, armed with renewed confidence that my innards would function correctly, and bristling with excitement over HatGirl telling me that she'd be at Rich O's, I went there.

I arrived a little after 9:00. HatGirl and LuckyFucker were sitting out front. This told me that Rich O's proper was full. Probably with idiots and/or weirdoes, but full in any event. Like I cared about Rich O's proper when HatGirl was sitting out front.

HatGirl!

Yay!

I joined them and checked out the beer board. Rogue Chocolate Stout was still on. There was also a Brooklyn Chocolate Stout that I'd been looking forward to trying. But I just couldn't bring myself to have either of them. See, the last beer that I had, last Saturday, before I exploded all over myself and my bathroom, was a BBC Dark Star Porter (288). It wasn't the beer's fault that I got sick, but I still felt some kind of subconscious reflexive aversion to dark and rich beers.

I had myself a Wostyntje Mustard Ale (89) and it was very yummy.

We sat and talked for an hour or so. LuckyFucker rambled on about some ninja show he'd watched. HatGirl expressed concern about what to do with her little dog. They're going on a trip, and she doesn't want to leave the dog. So I suggested that she just take the dog with her.

"But I can't take her into places," she pointed out.

"You can if people think you're blind," I suggested. "In fact, I suspect that people already assume that you're blind, when they see you with LuckyFucker."

Zing! Take that LuckyFucker!

Anyway, I thought it was funny.

After my friends left, I went on into Rich O's proper. It was pretty packed, mostly with semi-regulars. I talked to MusicalYuppieDude for a bit, and to WomanRepellant for a bit. MusicalYuppieDude noticed that I'd lost weight. I told him about what I'd gone through to accomplish that feat. He agreed that it probably wasn't worth it.

I ended up sitting on the sofa with a bunch of people that I don't know. I had another Wostyntje (99) and then I came home at 11:30 or so.

Oh yeah - at HatGirl's birthday party, GlassesGirl had said that she might show up with my "long lost stepbrother" in tow. That had caused some speculation as to who she might mean. It turns out that she'd meant it literally. I did, for a brief period of time around 1990, have a stepbrother. When my dad remarried after my mom died, his new wife had a son. J-something. I only met him once. Anyway, that was who GlassesGirl was talking about.

People are wondering what I've been doing for the past couple of nights.

Ha ha. I'm just kidding. Nobody cares. Hell, I barely care myself.

But, since I plan to drink tonight, and since that'll probably lead to some stupid crap being posted, I figured that I'd strive for one last bit of normalcy and write an entry about my weekend.

On Friday I arrived early. I didn't want to miss the De Dolle Stille Nacht, as I had back in 2004. So of course that's what I had first (66).

Since I'd arrived so early, the throne was available, and I sat there. I'm pretty sure that there were some other people around, but I really didn't care. I think one was a girl who should probably get a nickname. Maybe later.

Next, I was feeling experimental, so I experimented.

Dave's Weffenspezial (20)

(mixture) I mixed Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier and Spezial Rauchbier on a 1:1 ratio. Amazing head, courtesy of the Weihenstephaner. Aroma of bananas and cloves, slightly subdued. Flavor of a German wheat beer. The smoke shows up in the finish. Yummy. I'm a freakin' genius.

Again, I think there were other people there. But again, I didn't care. I'd been told that a certain person would be at Rich O's that week, and there could be no substitute.

One of the anonymous people made me try a sample of some Schnieder Aventinus Weizen Dopplebock (24), even though I insisted that I'd had it before. It's still just a beer, so I have nothing to add to my review.

Next, I had a beer from the Saturnalia list. A beer that was new to me.

Ridgeway Lump of Coal (10)

(draft) Very dark ruby-colored. No aroma. Nice head. A pretty thick mouthfeel, with coffee and licorice fairly well-balanced. Decent, but not worth my time.

Once that was gone, there was still nobody who mattered at Rich O's, so I gave up and left. I went over to The Hard Rock in Louisville and talked to CoolHairGirl while I enjoyed a Winter's Bourbon Cask Ale (52). It was pretty good, and it was nice to see CoolHairGirl before she got off work and disappeared.

On Saturday, I went to HatGirl's belated birthday party. I had several bottles of Blue Moon Winter Ale (142). I had fun petting HatGirl's dogs, but I didn't get to pet her cat. It was being a scardie-cat.

There was also weird stuff going on, but it was still nice to see HatGirl and NotHideousGirl and LuckyFucker.

I guess that's it. Pretty boring stuff.

That's what FutureDude called this week, this period between Christmas and New Year's Eve. He was referring to the extremely crowded conditions at Rich O's. Crowding like that is normally only seen on Fridays, but this week it's been standing room only every single night.

FutureDude works at the place. He has to stay somewhat diplomatic. Hence, Festival of Fridays.

Me, I don't work there. I can call it was it really was.

Week of Weirdoes.

Hippies, specifically. But I couldn't find a word for a period of time that starts with H.

Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, the place was overrun with hippies. The scents of patchouli and cloves hung in the air, almost but not quite obscuring the unmistakable aroma of clothing that's been subjected to years of marijuana smoke.

I don't know where they all came from. I just hope that they go back. Soon.

Friday was much better. The crowd seemed to consist mostly of people with actual jobs. So that was cool. It was still pretty damn crowded though.

Anyway, because I'm a stupid gullible idiot, I went to the place every night. I scrambled for any available seat. I drank beer. I ate a lot of potato wedges. I watched the door. I became irritated with my own naiveté.

I had my notebook with me, but I didn't do a very good job of taking notes. I'll probably do an even worse job of going from memory. But you'll get the gist.

Tuesday, the highlight for me was getting to see NotHideousGirl for only the second time in three months. The first time had been Sunday night, at a secret event. An event that also featured HatGirl. So, yay!

I sat at the island with a bunch of PBDs and NotHideousGirl. My first beer was the 2006 edition of Anchor's Christmas Ale.

Anchor Our Special Ale 2006

(draft) Dark ruby in color, almost black. Nice head and very nice lacing. Fruity and spicy aroma. Fairly thin and highly-carbonated mouthfeel. Flavor of tingly dark cherries, a little sour even. Finish is tingly. Better than decent, barely good.

Also on Tuesday I had a couple pints of Spezial (1342). I always drink a lot of that beer when it's on, plus the board in back indicated that De Dolle Stille Nacht would be next on that tap, so I wanted to help move things along.

On Wednesday night, I sat at the bar and pretended that the place wasn't full of weirdoes, and I had a Dragon's Milk (70) and then a couple more Spezials (1382).

On Thursday night, I sat on the throne and talked for a bit to some semi-normal people. I had a couple pints of Rogue Hazelnut Brown Nectar (115) and then a Spezial (1402).

Friday, well my Friday memory is still somewhat intact, but I don't think that anyone cares. And I don't feel like writing anything right now. I'll write about Friday later. For now I've got laundry to do.

After the Christmas thingy was over, I of course went to Rich O's.

It was pretty crowded, but I wasn't going to be sitting in Rich O's proper anyway. As soon as HatGirl arrived I'd be sitting out front with them. So even though this one dude offered to give me the throne, I just sat at the kiddie table and tried a new beer.

Hambleton Nightmare Porter

(draft) Almost black. Good head, good lacing. A very faint coffee and hop aroma. There was a slight bitterness to the flavor and the finish. Not worth my time. Just barely decent.

Bell's Hell Hath No Fury

(draft) Black, with a decent brown head. A sugary sweet aroma. Flavor was fairly intense, with spices and a slight hint of coffee. Pretty damn good.

While I was drinking that, HatGirl came in to make sure that I knew she'd arrived.

HatGirl!

Yay!

I went out front and sat with HatGirl and LuckyFucker and HatGirl's sister for several hours. I had another of the Bell's beers (20) and we all just relaxed. Because it was HatGirl's birthday, I must have sang Happy Birthday to her a dozen times, but I kept my voice down so everyone in the place wouldn't find out, start singing, and embarrass the shit out of her.

At one point HatGirl picked up her camera and recorded me singing to her. Hopefully I won't be seeing that on Inside Edition anytime soon.

Weird, I think I was more excited about her birthday than I ever am about my own.

For my next beer, I had a New Holland Dragon's Milk. I'd had this before, but I went ahead and updated my review.

New Holland Dragons Milk

(draft) Very smooth for so much alcohol. I really liked this, but I'd probably like it even more without the oaky undertones. Almost black with good head and lacing. There were subtle hints of vanilla and bourbon that were a very pleasant surprise.

I switched to Diet Coke for a while after that, but I ended up having a Spezial Rauchbier (1292) at the end of the night.

Once HatGirl and her posse left, I went back into Rich O's proper for a while and had another Diet Coke.

Then I went to Kroger to buy some shrimp. Then I went to White Castle. Then I came home.

Man, it was crowded last night.

At first, I sat on the throne. Some strangers were on the sofa. I suspected that they might be weirdoes, but I gave them the benefit of a doubt while I had a Rogue Chocolate Stout (1352). Plus, one of the people wasn't a stranger - it was HotEuchreGirl, and I was convinced that she was about to lose a button on her shirt. I didn't want to miss that when it happened.

For the next hour, at about five-minute intervals, more people kept showing up and joining the living room area people. It was quite ridiculous. Every time someone would walk through the door, the crowd of now-confirmed weirdoes would holler out greetings, and the new person would squeeze into the area.

Luckily, by the time I ordered another Rogue Chocloate Stout (1372), this one hot girl had left the bar so I moved up there and sat.

I talked with MusicalHippieDude for a while about various crap. He will be getting a new nickname, but not until after the holidays. I don't know who reads this thing. I also had some potato wedges with beer cheese. I just kind of vegged out.

At 9:30 or so I walked over to this Jack's place next door. Mainly I wanted to see if (a) HotEuchreGirl was there and (b) if that button had popped off yet. It had certainly been under a lot of strain when I'd seen her earlier. I've read that spider silk is the strongest substance in nature, but I don't believe it. I think it's the thread that was holding that fucking button on.

Well nobody I wanted to see was at Jack's, so I went back to Rich O's and had a beer that was new to me:

Harviestoun Old Engine Oil (10)

(draft) Black in color. Decent white head. Roasty cola aroma. Very well-balanced between coffee and chocolate. Pretty damn good.

At Mac's, I didn't see anyone I knew at first, but then I saw a familiar hand sticking up out of the crowd.

MisunderstoodGirl, waving at me!

Yay!

So we spent a few minutes talking about what she's been up to since I last saw her. There wasn't any need to talk about me because nothing ever changes with me.

I came home at around 11:00 and played some pool for a while.

Went to lunch at The Pub yesterday, just mainly to get out of the office for a bit. I had a Great Lakes Edmund Fitzgerald Porter (204) while I was there. It was quite good, though it clashed with my curry fries a bit.

Then after lunch I got a text message from this chick I know. Her name escapes me, but she wanted to see if I was going to Rich O's after work. I said that I'd go if she would.

Then I went and got a haircut, then I went to Rich O's. I had an NABC Bonfire of the Valkyries (40) at the island while I waited for some strangers to leave the living room area.

Then they left so I moved to the throne.

Next I had a beer that I didn't think I'd had before. I was wrong about that. I did, however, go ahead and update my review:

Ridgeway Seriously Bad Elf (22)

(draft) Take a bland IPA, and wash your socks in it. Then take it to your local steel mill, and use the same beer to wash the socks of everyone who works there. This just might give you a good idea of what this beer tastes and smells like. Actually, it would taste and smell better than the beer does, but I didn't want to go overboard with my description.

Then some weirdoes came and took the sofa. I figured it would be okay because WhatsHerName could still sit on the loveseat.

But noooooooooooooo!

Another weirdo came and sat on the loveseat. Disgusted, I moved picked up my shit and moved to the bar.

At about 6:30 I was starting to figure that WhatsHerName had stood me up. I was thinking about leaving, but then she came in.

So I ordered a yummy Rogue Chocolate Stout (1332) and we talked for an hour or so. It was nice.

I'd really like to see WhatsHerName again. I hope I remember her damn name by then. I can't call her "Hey you" forever.

Got to Rich O's last night at around 8:00 I think. It was pretty crowded, and so I had to sit at the kiddie table. That put me in a bad mood.

Then I went to the bathroom and on the way I saw LaptopGirl, so that put me in a good mood.

Then I got to talk to LaptopGirl, so that put me in a great mood.

Then I got into an argument with a chick over the throne. The strangers had finally left the living room area and we both wanted the throne. I was closer, and I'd been waiting longer, so I took the seat.

She called me an asshole. I called her a bitch. But I gave her the fucking seat.

Then, after a while I felt bad about the name calling, so I apologized.

All of that crap knocked me back into a regular good mood.

Oh yeah, I had three yummy Rogue Chocolate Stouts (1292).

Last night, just like last Sunday, I had a nearly overpowering urge to write something stupid. So last night, just like last Sunday, I went over to Louisville instead.

I started out at The Pub where I had a couple of yummy Newcastles (2838) and talked with some dude from North Carolina.

Next I had a Great Lakes Edmund Fitzgerald Porter (164), which I hadn't noticed when I first went in or it might have been all I had.

Then I went to The Hard Rock and talked to CoolHairGirl. It was sort of dead in there. I had like three Diet Cokes, and then one of those Winter's Bourbon Cask Ales (36), then another Diet Coke.

It was a nice relaxing evening. I wish I'd have taken my notebook with me though. Then I could have written something stupid in it.

I suppose the real start of this Saturday Beer Report would be when I was at Rich O's at 3:00 or so. I'd done my Christmas shopping and decided to reward myself with a yummy Rogue Chocolate Stout (1222). I talked to Roger, the owner, for a bit. I expressed my frustration that, here in Indiana, we can't get Alaskan Smoked Porter at all, yet in Las Vegas the owner of the Freaking' Frog can simply call his distributor and get a keg from 1998.

Something is definitely wrong with this system.

Anyway, after that I came home and dicked around for a while, then I went back to Rich O's at 8:00. The place wasn't too crowded. At least Rich O's proper wasn't. The PBDs were having a party in the Special People Section. I stuck my head in. It looked crowded as fuck.

There were some weirdoes in the living room area, so I sat at the bar. I had an Upland Winter Warmer (200) which is still yummy.

Not a whole lot happened for a while. My next beer was a Delirium Noel (70). A couple next to me were having the conversation. It seemed to be mostly about everything that was wrong with the guy, but I wasn't really listening - only when the occasional snippet made its way into my ears. So he may have gotten some jabs in too.

I got a text message from HatGirl, saying she wasn't going to make it in, but I guess I made her feel guilty or something so she said she'd be there. Yay!

After the weirdoes left I moved over to the throne. That was about the time I had another Delirium Noel (80).

Then a little before 10:00 HatGirl and LuckyFucker came in.

HatGirl!

Yay!

I didn't mention it before, but Friday night HatGirl was strangely dressed. On Saturday she was back to normal.

So we talked for an hour or so. I had a half-pint of Rogue Chocolate Stout (1232), and I came home shortly after HatGirl and LuckyFucker left.

There's something going on that just isn't right. I don't really want to elaborate. But there is context to all this random boring crap that I write.

4:50
Arrival - about an hour later than I'd planned. The crowd isn't too bad yet. I'm sitting at the empty island, and having a N'Ice Chouffe. Apparently I'd had it before, but I've updated my review:

N'Ice Chouffe (14)

(draft) Dark cranberry in color. Huge head. Aroma is a very faint sweetness. Tastes like watery cranberry juice. Kind of disgusting.

5:00
All of the strangers just left the living room area. Yay! I'm moving to the throne. Yay!

5:05
This Chouffe stuff is too disgusting. I'm ordering another new NABC beer.

New Albanian Naughty Claus (10)

(draft) Cloudy brown. No foam (duh). Aroma of sugar and unidentifiable spices. Flavor is decent - reminds me of pumpkins. There's a slight citrus tang at the finish. Not too bad.

My next beer was another new one for me.

Bluegrass Hell For Certain (10)

(draft) Clear dark bronze. Decent head. No detectable aroma. Flavor of dried cherries. The finish was quite drying as well. A good beer, but a little weird.

Sometimes I use words like idiot when stranger would be much more appropriate.

My next beer was something I've had before, but I wanted to update my review.

Delirium Noel (60)

(draft) Dark brownish red with a very dense head that lasted forever. A very nice completion to the Delirium triad. Not as much spice as I was perhaps expecting, but very drinkable. More similar to Delirium Nocturnum than to Tremens. Yummy.

At 7:10 or so I started getting text messages from HatGirl that she was on her way.

At 7:30 HatGirl and LuckyFucker arrived.

HatGirl!

Yay!

For a few minutes, HatGirl had to stand. LuckyFucker had taken the only available seat in the place - at the kiddie table. But I laid a guilt trip on this other dude and talked him into moving from the kiddie table to the sofa so HatGirl could sit.

This was also about the time I switched to Diet Coke for a while.

So I spent the next couple of hours talking to HatGirl and LuckyFucker and GuiltTripDude and a few other people in the living room area.

At one point I got into a bit of an argument with one of the PBD girls. I feel kinda bad about that, but I doubt that she even remembers it. I still apologize.

I also found out that this one PBD is the bartender's dad. I'd had no idea, but once I found out I could really see the resemblance. Small world.

My next beer was a Rogue Chocolate Stout (1192).

After HatGirl left the night settled down for me. A couple of uberhot girls that I sorta know came over and sat with us. Those two are like an unstoppable force of hotness, so I didn't pay much attention to less important things like breathing for the next couple of hours. Once TeamHotness left I had a half-pint of Rogue Chocolate Stout (1202) to close out the night, and I came home at about 12:30.

Wednesday was one of those nights when I couldn't help but wonder what the fuck I was doing.

I mean, I knew exactly what I was doing, but it seemed so stupid that my mind wouldn't quite accept that it was me. I've written this before, but it was like I was watching a movie and I couldn't believe how stupid the main character was.

Other than that, the night was okay. I arrived straight from work. It wasn't very crowded. I sat at the throne and had a Weihenstephaner Hefeweiessbier (1581).

It was yummy. So yummy, in fact, that I had two more (1615).

Other than that, nothing at all happened. Oh yeah, I talked to this one dude and this one chick, but I don't think we talked about anything important.

I had a Guinness (1407) and came home at around 9:00.

---

Thursday night I went home after work. I tried to take a nap but it didn't work out. Then I had to do some work shit until a little after 8:00. So I didn't get to Rich O's until 8:30 or so.

Man, it was fucking crowded!

One of the biggest crowds I've ever seen there.

It sucked.

I stood around for an hour or so, drinking a Rogue Dead Guy (288), until a seat opened up at the island. Then I sat with some semi-regulars for a while.

My next beer was a new one for me. A new one for the world actually:

New Albanian Bonfire of the Valkyries

(draft) Stupid name, I think they've given up there. The beer was black. More than black. It was anti-light. Very little foam, as is typical for NABC beers. Not much of an aroma, just a touch of smoky malt. Fairly thick and creamy mouthfeel. Flavor is a bit sharp and smoky, surprising after the tame aroma. Finish is creamy smoke. I liked it.

HotEuchreGirl and I were getting our asses kicked - down 4-8 - but then we decided to start playing and we won 10-8.

So, yay!

Other than that, the place stayed fucking crowded all night. I hated it, mostly because if you pack eight million people into a space made for a couple of hundred, there should be a rule that one of those eight million people will be the one you want to see.

When I'm in charge of the world, that rule will be fucking enforced.

Anyway, I had fun I guess. I sorta have a crush on HotEuchreGirl now.

Sunday night was pretty fun. Surreal, but fun.

After I'd finished vomiting words into my notebook - see the previous entry - I found myself talking to a girl that I've seen before. Both at Rich O's and there at The Pub. A girl who looks almost exactly like Ella.

A hot girl. A girl who's way out of my league. But somebody forgot to tell her that, and it somehow slipped my mind as well.

Oops.

So EllaGirl and I went over to The Hard Rock to eat. And drink. And talk. And even flirt a little. Surreal.

Let's see, I'd been planning to just have a Guinness, but CoolHairGirl informed me that they were out, so I had a Blue Moon (336). I had some chicken tenders too.

We stayed there for a couple of hours. She's a very neat girl, and I somehow managed to keep her entertained. We each had a sample of a new beer from Anheuser-Busch. I liked it enough to order a full glass.

Winter's Bourbon Cask Ale (20)

(draft) Clear bronze. A very interesting vanilla and smoke aroma. Despite the name, there wasn't even the tiniest hint of bourbon. A nice medium mouthfeel, with vanilla and light smoke in the flavor as well. Pretty fucking good. I don't care who makes it.

A friend of mine told me earlier in the evening that she needed a distraction from her distraction. I guess I needed the same thing. I guess maybe EllaGirl did too.

It was fun.

I had to get out of my house.

I was getting very close to writing something stupid.

So I left.

Now I'm sitting in The Pub in Louisville. I'm drinking a yummy Newcastle (2778), and I'm probably about to write something stupid in this notebook.

But I'm not worried. I'm miles away from my home and my computer. I've got a mandatory buffer zone between what I write and anything that I might publish.

Besides, this way I can always blame the beer.

Anyway.

In the movie Team America: World Police there's a scene that goes something like:

Person one: I didn't mean to hurt you.

Person two: I know. You just didn't care if you did.

I know exactly how person two felt. I mean, if she was real and not a puppet, and if it was real life and not a movie, well then I'd know exactly how she felt.

I can't help but think back to the cruelest words ever said to me. Not said exactly. Texted. Those eleven fucking words. Yeah, I know exactly how that puppet chick felt.

(Having a Young's Double Chocolate Stout (383) now.)

That was almost two years ago, but it set the tone for most of the relationships and non-relationships and pseudo-relationships since then.

It's weird. You'd think that deliberate cruelty would be worse. Than apathy. Than ignorance.

But it's not.

I sat at home today, and I sit at this bar right now, and I just want to scream. I want to cry. I want to wail. I want to go into a rage. I want to spontaneously burst into flames.

I want to be noticed, for better or for worse. I'm fucking sick of being irrelevant.

(Having another Newcastle (2798) now.)

I could make myself be noticed. I could become relevant. It wouldn't even be that hard. I could end the apathy and the ignorance.

It would be easy.

I'm wondering if I'm supposed to be writing something relevant. Maybe I am. Maybe that's what it would take to add the proper context to everything else. Without that context, these are just disconnected entries.

I dunno. I'm not doing it though. Not today, anyway.

Last night I was craving Red Lobster, so I went there for dinner. It was very yummy, as Red Lobster always is for me. OddlyFamiliarGirl was working and I got to talk to her for a bit.

It was really fucking crowded in Clarksville because of all the Christmas shoppers.

So I got to Rich O's just after 6:00. Way earlier than normal, but if I'd gone home after dinner I'd probably have fallen asleep. They were having a wedding reception in the Special People Section, and I had three heart attacks and a couple of strokes before I got up the nerve to look in there. I saw nobody I knew. In particular, the bride was nobody I knew, so that was a relief. Not that I should give a shit either way. And maybe I don't. But that doesn't mean I'd be able to cope with having it rubbed in my face.

I sat on the throne and had three Koningshoeven Quads (195) over the course of a couple of hours. I talked with a couple of PBDs about various stuff - mostly beer.

I switched to Diet Coke after that. And I waited. And I wondered. And I watched the door.

I noticed at one point that the place was packed, and that 90% of the people there were old women wearing red sweaters and/or red coats and/or red scarves. I talked to one of the old women. Turns out that they were all going to some concert over at IUS.

I was a little bored for a while, kicking myself a little for drinking three strong beers so early in the evening. I might have even been thinking about just going home. But then HatGirl and LuckyFucker came in.

HatGirl!

Yay!

That perked me back up. I talked with those two, and with the PBD who was still there, for the next couple of hours. I had myself a Guinness (1327).

After HatGirl and LuckyFucker left I had a Diet Coke and then I came home and glared at my phone for a while.

And now I'm in the mood to write something relevant. I need to get away from this computer before I do anything stupid like that.

The problem last night, as I saw it, was that I don't think I ever shut up.

Actually, that was more of a symptom of the real problem. The real problem was that people could have seen me last night and decided that I was sociable or something. People might start trying to talk to me all the time. That would suck.

Anyway, I got to The New Albanian Public House a little after 7:00. That's what we're supposed to be calling Rich O's now. Quite a mouthful, isn't it? The parking lot was packed, so I parked on Mars and walked in.

Inside, it was about half full I guess. Mostly strangers. I sat on the throne and ordered a Browning's Bourbon Imperial Stout (45). A chick from work was there with her husband. They're cool people, and I spent quite a while talking to them about everything from love to skiing.

My next two beers were Rogue Deal Guy (268).

At 9:30 I drunk-texted BadPickleGirl that I missed her.

At around 10:00 or so, NeighborsDaughter came in with her husband, and I talked to them for the rest of the night. Mostly we talked about my neighbor's dog, Dino. I guess he's feeling his age quite a bit. I should walk across the street to see him.

Because VigilanteGirl used to work with NeighborsDaughter, I got to missing her quite a bit. I stopped by this little bar where she used to hang out, but she wasn't there.

It was maybe supposed to snow here tonight. I thought that I'd write something about it, if it did.

But it's not snowing yet, so I'll switch to plan b.

Write about beer!

Yay!

Here are my reviews of a couple of new (to me) beers that I've recently had the pleasure of drinking.

Schlafly's Christmas Ale (40)

(draft) Dark bronze. Very light foam. A strong aroma of whatzit and orange. The flavor was mostly whatzit, with some light orange peel thrown in. Despite the citrus, I did like this beer. I just wish I knew what the whatzit really was.

(draft) Black. Large brown head with great lacing. A nice chocolately flavor behind the bourbon, which shows up mainly in the lingering finish. Pretty damn yummy.

The Browning's was especially surprising. I've never been a fan of the beers from there, but there's a new brewer now. I should go in and see what else they have to offer.

The Schlafly's is pretty damn good too. I wish I could indentify the "whatzit" though. Perhaps someone will enlighten me.

(Written Saturday afternoon)

Three hours this time. Stupid Delta.

I'm sitting in the BBC bar at the Cincinnati airport, having a yummy Dark Star Porter (248). It's yummy.

Anyway.

I can still really feel Southern Indiana trying to repel me. I bet the plane used extra fuel as it carried me Eastward. I bet the pilot was concerned.

I am a salmon being forced to swim upstream, but I have no spawning to anticipate.

Back to the grind I go. No choice, really.

At least no choice that I'm willing to make. No chance that I'm willing to take.

Hey, that rhymed!

My Pulitzer awaits.

Update: it ended up being a four-hour layover because of the stupid weather on the East coast.

Update Again: My cats were glad to see me. I guess that's something.

(Written Friday night)

Man, this has been a week of boring entries. But that's okay. It means that there's been no drama stirring up crap in my head.

I suppose that will change though.

It always does.

The conference ended at 11:30 this morning. I didn't stick around to watch them clean up. I took a cab over to The Hard Rock so I could buy a souvenir glass and eat lunch at The Pink Taco. I'm not a huge fan of Mexican food, but I've always loved the enchiladas at The Pink Taco. Plus they seem to have a rule that only drop-dead gorgeous girls can work there. I was surrounded my supermodels and movie stars. So, just like my regular life back home. Not.

After lunch I took a cab over to New York New York. I stuck my head in ESPN Zone to see if PonytailGirl was working. She wasn't, so I went over to Nine Fine Irishmen.

I sat at the bar and the guy asked me, "Smithwick's for lunch?"

That's what I said to him every day when I was here in August. Pretty cool that he remembered.

So I had two Smithwick's (1444) then I dicked around New York New York for an hour or two. I really like that place. It's got style.

After I'd cabbed it back to The Rio I tried a couple of times to take a nap, but it never took.

And now I'm at The Tilted Kilt drinking a Tilted Kilt (526). The plan is to make this a short night because I have to get up at like 3:30 to leave.

Oh yeah, VegasDude finally called me back. He was quite apologetic. I told him not to worry about it.

Deschutes Black Butte Porter (4)

(bottle) Cola color. Roasted malt and caramel aroma. Fairly thin mouthfeel. The flavor was of cola and caramel. Slightly dry finish. Good.

Other than that, I had three more pints of Tilted Kilt (560), and I talked with HenPeckedGuy, then at around 10:00 I went up to my room and slept.

This will be my last full night in Las Vegas for a long time. At least six months, maybe a year. The conference ends tomorrow at noon. Maybe I'll go over to the strip then. For tonight, I'll just stick with The Tilted Kilt. I'll take notes.

6:40
I arrive. Some fucker is in my seat. HenPeckedGuy isn't working - some hot girl is behind the bar. I've talked briefly with StupidGirl and ordered a Fat Tire (423).

6:45
This fucker better leave my seat soon.

6:50
This bartender is hot. I hereby dub her HotRioGirl. Believe it or not, the outfits the girls wear here aren't very flattering. Some of the girls can't really get away with wearing them. HotRioGirl can.

6:54
I should eat something. Nothing here ever looks edible though. Except the waitresses.

6:59
A bunch of assholes just came in. They all ordered Sam Adams. What a bunch of sheep.

7:05
I drink too quickly in Las Vegas when the beer is yummy. I'm ordering an Arrogant Bastard (46) to slow myself down.

7:06
HenPeckedGuy is here now.

7:07
Arrogant Bastard is kind of nasty, but I'm sure it'll get better as the glass empties.

7:14
I just saw HatGirl's twin. A little chubby, but still hot. She caught me slobbering at her and she smiled.

7:17
This fucker still hasn't vacated my seat.

7:20
I'm moving to the other end of the bar. It was either that or murder the fucker.

7:23
I've ordered a pizza thingy with no tomato sauce.

7:25
The waitresses here aren't allowed behind the bar. Weird.

7:29
I'm in a strange mood. I'm ordering a heterosexual Pyramid Hefeweizen (16).

7:31
Here's my official review:

Pyramid Hefeweizen

(draft) The color of dirty piss. A decent head and good lacing. Aroma of orange peels. Thin and citrusy flavor and mouthfeel. A touch of grapefruit bitterness at the end. Quite disgusting.

7:45
Piss time.

7:54
I just checked, and I don't see Bass Pale Ale on my beer page either. So now I know what I'm having next.

8:02
I just made two nerds try the Tilted Kilt Ale, and they liked it enough to order full pints. Yay me!

8:05
HotRioGirl forgot to pour my Bass.

8:08
Finally.

Bass Pale Ale (16)

(draft) Light copper. Good head, good lacing. Whoa. A strong malt and hop aroma, quite dry. Thin mouthfeel but still quite coating. Malt and hops predominate everything. Surprisingly bad.

8:20
This beer is gross. No wonder a lot of people mix it with Guinness.

8:25
I just drunk-texted HatGirl. I told her about her twin.

8:26
I miss HatGirl.

8:29
There's a new waitress here who looks like Erika from Big Brother. She's hot.

8:33
This isn't working. I'm not slowing down at all. I'm switching tactics and changing to lower ABV beers. Ordering a Guinness (1307).

8:37
Except for the waitresses and HotRioGirl, this place is a sausage-fest tonight.

8:55
Piss time.

9:00
Ordering a Smithwick's (1404). I've been talking to some dude from Ireland, and he got me in the mood for one.

9:20
I am so cut off. Switching to Diet Coke.

9:35
Piss time.

9:54
Still talking to IrishDude. Now I'm thirsty though. Ordering a Tilted Kilt (496).

10:30
I am so cut off. Seriously.

10:35
Piss time.

10:38
Apparently, if you go to France, it's better to butcher their language than to simply admit that you don't speak it. This is according to IrishDude.

10:45
OMG that chick has huge tits!

10:47
IrishDude has left the premises.

10:51
Now two old women from Scotland are here. They just came from the Chippendales show. They are drunk. I'm one to talk.

11:00
Two new dudes are here. I think they're from America of all places. They're cool.

11:04
Dead Guy time (198).

11:12
The American dudes bought my Dead Guy. That was nice, but I'm not putting out.

11:17
The ziggy-zaggy guys are here now. Oh fucking boy.

11:21
Switching back to Diet Coke. I'm so cut off.

11:40
Been talking to a guy from Belgium that I met the other night. He's pretty cool.

11:45
BelgianDude bought me a Newcastle (2758). Fuck.

12:20
Piss time.

12:55
I guess I've drank all the beer in Las Vegas, and they're closing the place down. I'm going to sleep now.

So I had a date last night. Sort of. It was advertised as a date, and it started out like a date, but I don't think it was a date.

I think it was more of an interrogation.

But that's okay. It was still fun. We ate at this seafood place in The Rio. The food was fantastic.

But no slaking took place, and it ended early because she had to go to work.

Anyway, with my newfound winnings, I took a cab to downtown Vegas. Specifically, I went to Main Street Station, more specifically to the Triple 7 brewpub therein.

Usually when I go to downtown Vegas I spend some time dicking around Fremont Street, but it was too cold for that last night. So I got right down to business. The business of beer.

I had three Black Chip porters (153). That beer is world-class. Easily worth the cab fare to get downtown and back. All of their other beers suck, so I didn't see any need to mix things up by ordering anything else.

After my three beers it was still too cold to dick around, so I took a cab back to The Rio and went to The Tilted Kilt.

The place was packed, but HenPeckedGuy managed to find an empty stool for me at the end of the bar. I had a Tilted Kilt Ale (480) and talked to some dude from Belgium for a while. He was drinking a fucking Stella. Yuck.

Then later some pompous doucebag took offense when I laughed out loud at his demand for two orange wedges in his Blue Moon. So I asked HenPeckedGuy if he knew how to make a Heterosexual Blue Moon. That's one without any fruit.

Then I asked if OrangeWedgeGuy could get a little umbrella for his beer.

My Blue Moon (318) was good. The look on OrangeWedgeGuy's face, as he stomped out of the place, was priceless. I bet he went back to his room and cried himself to sleep.

Tuesday night, as promised, I did a formal beer comparison instead of just drinking beer.

This certainly slowed me down. I hope you appreciate it.

This is not a competition. So, as David Letterman used to say, Please, no wagering.

I got to The Tilted Kilt at about 8:00. I'd have been there earlier but I had a yummy cajun burger and a yummy Alaskan Amber (2150) at this All-American Grille place first.

HenPeckedGuy was working at The Tilted Kilt. He didn't even bat an eye when I asked for four small servings of four different beers. In fact, he acted like weird people ask him to do strange things every day. It must be some Las Vegas thing.

Once I had my four beers in front of me, along with my notebook, I got down to business.

Appearance
Tilted Kilt: Cloudy brown. Some graininess to the clouding.
Rogue Dead Guy: Kind of a flat copper color. A little cloudiness.
Fat Tire: Bright dark copper.
Newcastle Brown Ale: Very dark brown, almost cola-colored.

Aroma
TK: Yeast and malt.
DG: Malty, and a little hoppy.
FT: Strong malty sweetness.
N: Deep malt. Some hop notes.

Mouthfeel
TK: Slightly thick.
DG: Oily and coating.
FT: Watery and a little drying.
N: Fairly thick, no coating.

Foam (after 10 minutes and a few sips)
TK: No head, no lacing.
DG: 40% thin foam covering.
FT: 100% thin foam covering, great lacing.
N: 10% thin foam, pretty good lacing.

Flavor
TK: Malt and yeast. Sweet.
DG: Malty with a little bite.
FT: Malt and something else. Maybe vanilla.
N: Roasty and sweet, with a bit of a bite.

Finish
TK: Slightly dry, no bitterness.
DG: Coating and sweet.
FT: Slightly dry. Vanishes instantly.
N: Just a hint of a bitter bite at the end.

Aside
This one hot girl says she's dying to know what I'm writing. I wonder what she'd do for a peek.

As I said, this was not a competition. But, if it had been, Newcastle would have won. Newcastle would have been followed by Tilted Kilt, then Fat Tire, and finally Dead Guy.

All are very good beers though.

For the rest of the night I had three pints of Tilted Kilt (464). I did end up showing the hot girl what I'd written. I think she was underwhelmed.

Monday was a long day. The first full day in Las Vegas is always long. My EST ass woke up at 5:30 and refused to go back to sleep so I stayed up.

I did some stuff for work. I ate some breakfast. I caught up on some writing. I basically just dicked around The Rio until noon, then I took the shuttle over to the strip. Then I dicked around on the strip for a while. I'd thought that I might buy a new watch at this place by The Alladin, but all of the watches they had were ugly.

At 3:00 or so, I took a cab over to The Freakin' Frog. I had a yummy Alaskan Amber (2134) with my lunch, then I had another one for dessert (2150).

The bartender was new to me. I liked her because she didn't argue with me when I asked for an unchilled glass - always before it's been an international incident. I liked her even more when she pointed out that they also had Alaskan Smoked Porter on tap. I fell in love with her when she said that it was vintage 1998.

Wowie fucking zowie.

So, guess what I proceeded to drink four of.

Alaskan Smoked Porter is correct.

I had four beautiful and yummy 10-ounce pours (485), and I wish I could have had more. Being a lightweight really sucks sometimes.

Besides the bartender, I talked to the owner for a bit. I've talked to him before, and I can never remember his fucking name. Andy or Matt or Adam or something generic like that.

There was also a guy in a suit who was pretty cool despite his affection for Miller Lite, and an Hispanic guy who drank eight million Bud Lights in an hour then left a $1 tip.

Anyway, after 32 ounces of Alaskan Amber and 40 ounces of Alaskan Smoked Porter, I was a little tipsy. I was also exhausted. So I took a cab back to The Rio and took a nap.