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.

...my true love gave to me,

Seven trips to Vegas,

Six pints of Tremens,

*** Five pairs of jeans with sexy yet still modest holes in them ***

Four sleepless nights,

Three designated drivers,

Two cute pairs of glasses,

And a yummy pint of Guinness.

Every Sunday the company that hosts barenada.com decides to suck. The site goes down, or gets really sluggish. Email sits for hours before being delivered. Sometimes email simply vanishes.

Such was the case this evening. I wrote an email to RockGirl, and it vanished, never to be seen again apparently.. That email said in part, I feel like something is terribly wrong. I feel like I should be doing something to make things better. But I can't because, for all I know, I'm the thing that's terribly wrong.

This, in case you were wondering, isn't the best feeling I've ever had in my life.

It kinda sucks.

Because if I am the problem, then there's not a thing I can do about it.

It fact, it definitely sucks.

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.

...my true love gave to me,

Six pints of Tremens,

*** Five pairs of jeans with sexy yet still modest holes in them ***

Four sleepless nights,

Three designated drivers,

Two cute pairs of glasses,

And a yummy pint of Guinness.

Last night SassyBoy came in to Rich O's, and I guess he's in contact with SassyGirl!

Yay!

So I gave him my email address so he could email me and let me know how to contact SassyGirl.

I miss SassyGirl. It seems like a million years since she moved away.

...one to go.

This one will be the real test.

I just took a break from doing a happy dance to write this.

My cats are concerned about me. I guess they don't appreciate my dancing.

Now back to the happy dance!

Yay!

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.

(According to my beer page, I've now had 14 ounces of that crap. The 4 ounces last night plus another 10 ounces sometime in the past. I astounds me that I ever managed to choke down 10 ounces of it in one sitting.)

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.

After that, since I was sitting on the throne, it was too much of a pain to write down every little thing, so the play-by-play format stopped there.

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.

While I was drinking these last two beers, I talked to OldBob and to MusicalHippieDude for a while. Oh yeah, this one chick from Ohio remembered that I'd talked to her months ago and that I'd blogged about her. She was the one who'd driven down here for some beer that I never heard of. I used my Blackberry to try to find the old entry, but I couldn't find it. I'd just wanted to make sure that I hadn't said anything bad like calling her an idiot or anything like that. I found the entry when I got home and it was okay.

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.

So my tastes have changed a little. Before I'd just called it good.

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.

A million times.

Disappointment times a million.

It never fades. It never gets any easier. It always astounds me with its intensity.

Someday, it will end.

Someday, in a portion of a fraction of an instant, disappointment will transform into joy.

Until then, disappointment will be my reason for living. My purpose. My destiny. My fucking calling.

After that, well I guess I'll have to wait and see what happens after that.