Opening Statement
Christmas is a time when you get homesick - even when you are at home - Carol Nelson
The madness is complete. Yesterday I finished up my Christmas Shopping - which was essentially securing stocking stuffers for the wife. I would be remiss if I posted what awesomeness will show up in her stocking come midnight on Christmas Day as it will raise the expectations of women everywhere and that is not something I will do to my fellow male sapiens out there.
Random observation: I am convinced that everyone has the retarded gene. Fortunately, in many people this gene is benign. Or so I thought. Apparently, during the holiday season, the retarded gene flares up. Why is this and is this grounds for doing away with Christmas?
Winners
Congrats to Victoria and Heather (over at Junk Miles). My wife reached deep into the Nike Running Hat and pulled out your names for running books by Dean Karnazes and Bart Yasso respectively. Give me an address and the books will be sent out shortly.
Marathon
No, not the running kind - the couch kind. Yesterday was the first official day of vacation, hence I opted to conduct a Star Wars Marathon (Star Wars, The Empire Strikes Back, and Care Bears in Space Return of the Jedi). In hindsight, the Empire was doomed not because good triumphed over The Dark Side, but because of the design of the Storm Trooper battle gear. The Empire outfitted their soldiers in cheap plastic that limited movement, narrowed the line of sight, and was hard pressed to provide protection from a spit ball.
Oh yeah, and there was that tiny little issue of a design flaw in The Death Star, but I digress.
What I have failed to inform you is that grilled sausage and cold beer was heavily involved.
Listening to: These Blues - Models
Closing Argument: Today I am considering a MINI (Cooper) Marathon (The Italian Job, The Bourne Identity, etc.).
Opening Statement
The easiest way to spot a wanker in a pub is to look around and find who's drinking a Corona with a slice of lemon in the neck. - Warwick Franks
At 10:00 this morning, Jaclyn and I were in line for the "last minute" grand opening of Saint Arnold Brewing to the public. Yes, yes, this was after a night when a veritable brewer's dozen of holiday beers rode ripshod across the stream of consciousness.
Last night's 12 Beers of Christmas was a small gathering that featured some big personalities and even bigger beers. However, as big as the beers were, we took all thirteen (Brewer's Dozen!) down one by one and ironically, we were all standing at the end. Interestingly, several folks were taking notes...so they could remember their favorites in case the memory became - shall we say - fuzzy.
Overall the evening gave us some hits, some misses, and some standards. At the top of the pile were the Sierra Nevada Celebration, the Saint Arnold Christmas, and the Redhook Winterhook. Disappointments included the Abita Christmas Ale and the Full Sail Wassail. The Widmer Brrr and the Brooklyn Black Chocolate Stout both received special consideration. All in all a moment in time of good friends and holiday cheer.
Admittedly, after last night and an early morning trip to the brewery (well of course there was beer, it's a brewery for gosh sake) there was an afternoon nap.
Listening to: Enter Sandman - Metallica
Closing Argument: Saint Arnold Brewing did not get their Certificate for Occupancy until 4:59 PM yesterday. It had been hung with the City of Houston for several weeks. Hence the last minute "grand opening." The new brewery is spacious to say the least. I cannot wait to host a gathering there. I just need a reason. Oh yeah, each and every one of you will be invited.
Opening Statement
On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me: a beer - Bob and Doug McKenzie
Behold the line-up for tonight's 12 Beers of Christmas:
And a photo of the excited beers chillin' and faithfully awaiting to pleasure a palate:
We also have some giveaways for a few lucky guests - A six pack which includes five Christmas brews and a pint glass for enjoying them. Don't you wish I was your friend!
Listening to: German Test Drive - Spymob
Closing Argument: Shoutin' out to Rachel for the envelope full of goodies. And without the anthrax!
Opening Statement
Tis the season to re-gift...
With Fall drawing to a close and Winter testing us with a chill, it is definitely time for the warming properties of a Russian Imperial Stout - Otter Creek Brewing version. This brew pours an inky black and provides a brownish head that dissipates quickly. If toasted malts and chocolate turn you on, feel free to pull the blinds, dim the lights, sit back, relax, and caress the bottle if you must. Otherwise, pour yourself a generous serving and understand that when the bottle is empty, you are done.
This is a 2 - 3 hour sipping beer that will help you feel warm and fuzzy throughout (10.5% abv).
In other beer news, I must give exponentially massive props to my wife (which essentially means I'll have to have a conversation with her). You see, when Saint Arnold released Divine Reserve #9 I was out of town. Hence, there was no chance I could secure any of this special release. However, one of the stores I shop at has a "build your own six pack" section with a plethora of singles to choose from. And verily, one intrepid store manager hid a few bottles in the dank recesses of a shelf. Sneaky yes, but my equally intrepid wife, reached into the darkness and pulled out not one, but two bottles of the cherished Reserve #9.
I don't deserve her, but I am going to keep her anyway.
Reading and Running
It's rare that I read a book twice and in most cases I give my books to a worthy cause. You, my cheap ass dedicated readers are a worthy cause for the asking. I have two gently used running books I am ready to part with: UltraMarathon Man - Dean Karnazes and My Life On The Run - Bart Yasso. Both are excellent reads and I guarantee you that you may find several words, possibly even entire sentences, that have not yet been read and are still in their pristine state.
Thus, if you've been thinking about purchasing either book and don't mind a few dog-eared pages, feel free to leave a comment about which one you would like to receive. Oh, and I'll pay the shipping! Just call me Jamoosh Claus.
Multiple requests for the same book will result in a rigged random drawing. Hey, I don't have that many readers so your odds are good. We'll close this by Tuesday (12/22) of next week.
Feet Meet Stink
I visited the Podiatrist today and was informed I have athlete's foot. Excellent! I am now considered an athlete by someone in the medical profession. Or at least my foot is. By the way, this was the result of wearing double socks in Utah last week... But what I really learned is that something that calls itself dorsal medial cutaneous nerve (which I think is Swedish for never trust a golfer) is very unhappy with my odd looking cuneiform bone. Huh.
Listening to: Rave On - Buddy Holly
Closing Argument: See the 12 Beers this Friday!
Opening Statement
I have a three week reprieve from Utah...
Here is a taste of what I will not be missing through the end of the year.
The backdrop of the BYU Campus.
Winter wonderland my ass. When the wind chill is a double digit negative, there is nothing wonderful about it.
Yeah, yeah - mountain range and snow. Could be Colorado for all I care.
Listening to: One Headlight - The Wallflowers
Closing Argument: My wife is the one woman on the planet Tiger Woods did not sleep with. As far as I know...
Opening Statement
Welcome to the Lounge, temporarily in Utah, where it is illegal to detonate any nuclear weapon. You can have them, but you just can't detonate them.
So much eye-stalking by coeds going on yesterday morning that I couldn't help but feel warm. Then again, what happened an hour later made me want to run for the nearest mirror to check how deep the grooves in my face might be.
Allow me to take you back a mere thirty-three years to the heady days of September 1976.The BIcentennial hangover was on the wane. High school. Freshman year. Wide-eyed. Curious. Diligent enough to stay out of lockers. Fleetwood Mac and Boston on the radio. FM Radio when FM Radio was FM Radio! I know, for many of you this is a stretch, but just go with it.
Her name was Sunny. Cute? Indeed. My type? Not so much. Although I am not sure I had a type back then. On the first day of Health Science class, the teacher made us introduce ourselves by first stating our name and then reciting the names of each student who had introduced themselves prior. I was the last one to rise and introduce myself. I was also the only student of the final ten who was able to recite every name of every student who had gone before me (Bonus, because of my not yet failing memory, the teacher let us out five minutes early). From that day on, Sunny called me "Professor" - obviously convinced I had a smart gene imbedded somewhere. Likely not, but the fact a cute girl had a nickname for me, well...let the hormones rage.
Present day - doing some work on campus and suddenly I am addressed as "Professor." Mistake? Perhaps. Then again, on a college campus of fresh faces, I probably look more like week old broccoli than a student. On the other hand, maybe she has an older guy fetish; perhaps a daddy complex. I had no reply other than a smile that likely gave her pause for concern that she was in the presence of a serial killer I am sure warmed the cockels of her soul. Run along now popette...
Listening to: Shattered Deams - Johnny Hates Jazz
Closing Argument: Another Utah gem of a law - A husband is responsible for every criminal act committed by his wife while she is in his presence. Consequently, the wife and I will not be vacationing together in Utah any time soon.
