Wall of Death

Friday night proved to be a bruiser. Our buddies, Municipal Waste from Virginia were in town playing at the Drunken Unicorn. Elixir of choice :

I would have to say the only thing special is the color of the output the next day. The circle pit mixed with a rousing wall of death helped churn up a good thirst. Drank way too many, and felt like a yucky later. Oh well. Did a few stage dives and lost my keys too. Awesome. I waded out in the circle pit, searching desperately for my keys. No luck. Got a flashlight, and went back in the thick of things. Found 3 sets of keys, a hat and a dirty shoe. None of them were mine, but I figured it would give me some leverage to trade with someone at the end of the show. Just when I thought all hope was lost, I saw my beautiful, sweet baby keys on the stage, sitting there crying. Reached, grabbed and got them, just in time to be crushed by the wall - my shirt turned brown. :(

It's me, this dude to your left, and shows about haunted Scotland tonight. I know you're jealous. Shut up! It comes out like creamy goodness unlike it's nasty, fart tasting, bottled counterpart.

How, you may ask, do I know what a fart tastes like. Come over, and you'll be privy to one of the stranger things i'm good at. After the lesson, I may let you have a cold beer from the dude to your left.

But, don't think I'm still not concerned about what happened to neighbor after seeing the lady in blue..

Ohh, that dark shit is nice...

A couple of buddies of mine work at a pretty drunk place called The Brick Store in Decatur, Georgia, just outside of Atlanta. It's a plum of a place serving all kinds of brews: new and old, big and small, high grav and low grav, domestic and foreign, light and dark, and all or most of them very delicioso. Upstairs is a small, cozy side bar that specializes in Belgian beers. Monks make 'em, I drink 'em, then kiss all the girls that the monks aren't kissin. Not really, but I go home and look at them on the internet. Anyhoo,.. recently my friend that tends bar forwarded me onto a lovely beer callad Allagash Black.

On tap, it's lovely, in the bottle, it's lovely. You can't go wrong. The reason why I like it so much is that it's dark, not too sweet, and highly carbonated. Love them bubbles. I knocked back a bottle of it last Friday night, while playing a rousing game of Pit and Global Nuclear Warfare with some buddies at a board game night. The combination of Loco's hot wings, several PBR's, a few Kingfishers (meant for a later post), Asahi's and one bottle of Black allowed me to enjoy a thick stew of throbbing headaches, a few diareeree's and some audible moans and groans the next morning. But, all said and done, it was worth it.

Welcome sluts!

Welcome, welcome to my new attempt at wasting more time at something I love doing... alot. Drinking! I just popped the top to a recent addition to my fridge, Coors. Not real sure why I bought Coors, but I did, and the one I'm drinking is pregnant because the mountains are blue.
This blog does not serve as a haughty taughty, banana head, knuckle butt list of the new holy hot shit that's out there in the beer/wine/booze world. It's purely a list of what I've been putting in my face, where I've been drinkin it and possibly what it may or may not have caused me to do.

Until next time, I bid you a fond ADIEU!