Last night, because I'd had two pints of Smithwick's after work, and because I'd then had half a pizza, and because there wasn't shit on TV that I wanted to watch, I went to bed at 8:00 and slept for 11 hours.

Now my head feels like it's full of hardening cement.

And now I get to go to a work meeting where we'll all get to find out how screwed up we are. We all had to take these personality profile tests a while back, and this is the meeting about the results.

Should be loads of fun.

Not.

But the good thing is that I'm on-call this week and my phone didn't ring once after 6:00 last night.

It's been cold here for a week, and rainy all day long, so I started a fire. My first one of the season.

It's a fake log, but still a real fire, so I like it.

There is no sound.

One thing that was strange, apart from the utter weirdness of having her walk into the place on a night when I happened to be there, was this scene that popped into my head.

At one point during the whatever you want to call it, I realized that I was thinking about doing something. Fantasizing actually, about doing something.

To her.

Like grabbing her and kissing the hell out of her.

It wasn't because I felt particularly attracted to her. Though the passion with which she tore at my heart was certainly admirable. it wasn't enough to make me forget the facts that (a) She's married I think, (b) She's not my type anyway, and (c) It would have started the biggest shitstorm in history.

So I didn't want to do things to her because of a desire for her. It was because I knew that, with our tongues fighting for supremacy inside her mouth, she'd have to shut up for a while.

Please stop sucking dead donkey dicks.

Thank you,

Dave

Happy birthday to my sister Neisha!

Saturday night was fucked-up.

Saturday night I was fucked-up.

It started out okay. I went out to The BBC. I had a yummy BBC Dark Star Porter (228) and spent some time talking with this one chick that I went out with about five years ago. So that was nice.

Then the text messages started coming in. From HatGirl.

Yay!

NavelGirl wasn't quite as thrilled as I was that I was texting HatGirl. Not that I really cared. There was, after all, a reason why we stopped going out. Besides, it was HatGirl!

After my beer I said that I was going to The Pub at Fourth Street Live in downtown. NavelGirl must not have been too upset about the HatGirl thing because she followed me there, and we had dinner together. After a while she left though, so I was free to text HatGirl to my heart's content.

I had three Newcastles (2566) while I just sat at the bar and vegged out. I was trying to decide whether I wanted to go home or to see if HatGirl was still at Rich O's when this other chick came in.

And that's when things got fucked-up.

I learned some things, I guess. Confirmed some others. Most of what I learned I could have lived without learning, and most of what I confirmed was that I'm an asshole.

I had another Newcastle (2586) while BlondeGirl raked her fingernails across my soul. It was like driving by the scene of a terrible auto accident. I just had to slow down and look at the carnage. Problem was, I was the carnage.

So after a while I just couldn't take it anymore. I told BlondeGirl that I was going to go home and kill myself but instead I went over to The Hard Rock and talked with CoolHairGirl and some dude that works at The Pub. I had a couple pints of Blue Moon (302) and listened to PubDude tell a never-ending series of jokes. Most of them seemed to be funny, but I can't remember any of them as I was getting pretty fucked-up.

I took a cab home because I'm a good citizen and stuff. I'm still an asshole though.

Last night I was really craving a Newcastle, and I was sitting at home trying to decide where to go for one. Like, I could have gone to The Pub in Louisville - they have the best Newcastle I've ever had - but I wasn't really in the mood for the crowd that's always there. I could have gone to Hooters in Jeffersonville but that was an even longer drive. I was seriously thinking about going down to our local riverboat casino and sitting in the bar there, but then I got a text message from HatGirl.

HatGirl!

Yay!

It seems that they were at Sportstime, which is the sister business to Rich O's. I texted back that I hadn't decided where I was going, but that was a fib. HatGirl was at Sportstime, so I was going there. But, since I wanted to try to preserve my image of casual indifference, I didn't immediately run out the door still naked from my shower and continue running all the way to Sportstime.

I probably should have though.

Because by the time I'd dewrinkled my clothes and gotten dressed and driven to Sportstime, I was too late.

HatGirl was already gone.

Boo!

So I went in Rich O's proper and sat at the kiddie table with MusicalHippieDude. I talked to HatGirl for a bit on the phone and learned that they'd just arrived back at their home. So that sucked.

Rich O's is having their hoppy beer festival, also known as the fuck you Dave festival, so the draft board out front was pretty useless to me. I did see Founder's Red Rye listed though, so I had one of those (120). FutureDude was shocked that I ordered that beer, but I've had it several times before. It's pretty good, in a weird way.

The place was packed with strangers and PBDs - all hop-heads. So I didn't do much except just talk with MusicalHippieDude and WomanRepellant for a while. Eventually I ordered another Founder's but I only drank a little of it (124). I'd decided that my Newcastle craving wasn't going to go away, so I left Rich O's and went to this Mac's place that I don't like. I'd thought that NotHideousGirl might be there doing karaoke or something, but they had a stupid live band so I didn't stay there long enough to look for anyone I knew. I just went to White Castle then came home and shot pool for several hours.

I remember reading somewhere that it's 90% mental.

That sounds about right to me.

The body, it just dances in the background. The mind is the real star of this show.

It's not even a very good show. Full of deceit and trickery. Empty promises and false praise. It drags on for far too long, and there's not really an ending. The lights just fade, ever so slowly, until you realize that the show is over.

It's not a very good show, but it can still mesmerize you and suck you in, if your amenable to that sort of thing. If you're not careful. If you're weak.

But, as they say, The show must go on.

They're right.

...on Lost! are real dicks.

Except for this chick. I have a massive crush on her:

Probably in part because she used to be this girl on Malcolm in the Middle and she's the one that started the whole perverted brunettes with glasses thing for me.

If only there'd been a dorky girl like that when I was in school.

After work today I stopped by Rich O's. Mainly to get a pizza, but then they had a new beer for me on tap:

t Smisje Halloween (10)

(draft) Cloudy yellow/orange. A nice head that faded quickly. This is a very citrusy Belgian when it first enters the mouth, but then the pumpkin takes over and coats the mouth with sweetness, then there were some nice spices in the finish. Just yummy. It seemed like it had a high ABV, but its 10.5% still surprised me.

Then, then as I was walking out the door Roger (the owner) called out to me.

"What?" I asked.

"I can get Harpoon now," he answered.

My head immediately started swimming. And here's why:

Harpoon Winter Warmer (100)

The web page says cinnamon and nutmeg. I got none of that. What I got was ambrosia. The most unusual beer I've ever had, and it took me a while to pin down what I was experiencing. Copper colored, good lacing, and an actual flower aroma. The flavor was incredibly indescribable, but I'll try anyway. Take a beautiful woman, have her bathe in lilacs and Mr. Bubble. Now perform oral sex on her. That's how good this beer was.

Then Roger said something about how he's getting Harpoon IPA for this hop festival thingy they're having. It starts this Friday. But I don't care about that. All I could think about was that their Winter beer festival (Saturnalia) is coming up in December. I always look forward to it, but this year it goes beyond that. This year it gives me something to live for, because Harpoon Winter Warmer could be there.