I know our brains are wired to pick patterns out of random oceans of stimulus and the number 1334 isn't really achieving any kind of mystic significance in my life despite the number of times it's popped up today.
But if the universe doesn't want me to kill the no-socks-tassled-loafers asshole that keeps kicking me on the bus, it had better make sure that 1334 doesn't show up again.
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Feh. Barely 800 words (that I'll probably scrap tomorrow) in two hours. Not a good writing day.
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Where do all the unemployed brewer nerds go on 230 on a Friday afternoon? Apparently to the local beer bar, when they crack the casks for the tasting at 630.
Allagash Vrienden is the first sour trippel I've ever had. It's probably the best trippel I've tasted, and it might just be the best sour, too. Certainly it's in the running. Complex, with a crisp dandelion bite and a very subtle hoppy, bready mouthfeel and aftertaste, it's the smoothest, most thirst-quenchingest trippel ever. At 9.2%, you may not want it as a session summer beer - but I would. It might have just catapulted into my top five.
Allagash Grand Cru was dissapointing. None of the promised smoke or complexity, crude hoppy aftertaste.
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An entirely unflattering but nevertheless accurate pictoral representation of what I did last night.
( Below the cut )
Verily, t'were a mountain of meat.( Below another cut (and yes, those are gaming minis. Shut up.) )
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Dinner tonight was beer, steak (a little too salty, but otherwise a fine cut), beer, potatoes, beer, cured meat and smoked cheeses, dates, figs, beer, bacon empanadas and beer. It was dinner worthy of a man.
I am now enjoying a postprandial cafe au lait, and may soon spark up a bowlful of fine burley blend.
I have worries, but tonight they can all go hang.
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Am I drinking an unfortunately expensive, improbably delicious bottle of eight-year-old port directly from the bottle?
Maybe.
Some days it's good to be a bachelor.
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You know what i'm really craving, though? A pork chop. A double-thick, juicy, pinkish hardwood-smoked grilled pork chop.
It's odd to be craving that, I know, considering how much pork I eat in chorizo (mexican), bacon, ham, breakfast sausage, chorizo (spanish), italian sausage, carnitas, hot dog, hot sausage, rind, rib, dumpling, spare rib, meatball and bbq form, but nevertheless, it is so.
There was a Houlihan's in Scottsdale, AZ that did the nicest chop. Mmm. My mouth waters at the very thought.
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Dinner tonight is chorizo and a nice salty chocolate bar. There is so much rich flavor I don't even know what to do with myself.
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Why so I get so little writing done at home, but at the coffee shop I become Mr. Productivity?
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Oh my god. There is a Wall Street fratboy type sitting behind me trying to hit on his seatmate by telling her about how his favorite books were made into a tv series, "Legend of the Seeker".
"You seem intellectual. You'd like it."
RUN, LADY! FLEE THE YEARDLING!
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timeasmymeasure
