Two things I learned on Saturday:
- I hate IPA.
- I will drink copious amounts of it if it’s free.
Events like these are Shangri-La for functioning alcoholics like me. There is no peace like having as much alcohol as you can possibly shove down your throat. Unless you count being employed at a place that looks the other way when you take a pull from the bottle of Captain you keep under your desk.
[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="294" caption="Tuesdays are the worst."][/caption]
Ken and Jake were busy being responsible adults when this whole thing started so Easy D (a friend of STOB/2 shots) and I made a plan. We were to start out at one booth and work our way around. We’d be able to sample all the hard work that those fine vendors had put into their beer and do it logically and efficiently. Good plan right? Well, much like the lost colony of Roanoke our plan quickly became unraveled. Instead of having no food or shelter for the winter; we had no beer and no patience. So we took to beer stands that had no lines like the Roanokites took to friendly Native American villages.
[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="425" caption=""Did you just make a joke involving what you learned in 8th grade history class?" Why yes I did, I'm taken ladies."][/caption]
I wouldn’t be able to tell you which beers I tried, which states they were from or even which ones I liked. But that’s not my purpose really. I’m not here to add depth. I’m not here to change your life with philosophy or even educate you on the different beers we tried. I’m here to rage against Latin as a spoken language and be awesome. Although, it’s awfully hard to do that when Ken has multiple talks with you and makes you promise not to embarrass him. Apparently if left unchecked I’m like the drunk chick you pick up at a bar who pees on your carpet and steals your TV.
[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="385" caption="This pose has cost me 3 TVs and 4 security deposits."][/caption]
So this Saturday I was on my best which means I didn’t urinate in the glass cleaning stations or organize the very nice group of 40 year old men I met against the hipsters drinking beer that isn’t PBR (ironically) while wearing fedoras and complaining about how lame their parents are for not giving them money. And in retrospect, the fact that I didn’t take off my pants due to the humidity or flip over our table (also due to the humidity) is probably a good thing for my record. And even with Ken putting my lame leash on I was still able to take some sexy pictures.
[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="306" caption="This picture is only 50% sexy. I have to remember to make sure Easy D isn't in it next time."][/caption]
And I was able to have a pretty good time watching the LFL girls get dunked for charity. I tried not to laugh as I am weak for a man and did not want to end up with a bloody nose. Also, since the Beerfest was held at the fairgrounds that had some amazing food; cheese curds, a corn dog and two brats with a pretzel bun for this guy. To be fair though, you could have fed me dog food by the time the whole thing was over and I wouldn’t have blinked an eye as I shoveled it in my mouth. All in all it was fun and worth my time. Next year though, I think I’ll be smuggling in some Dr. McGillicuddy’s Metholmint.
[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="357" caption="For the sickness."][/caption]
Did you go to the St. Paul Beerfest or have you gone? Share your stories. Keep it short though. This isn’t your blog. No one cares about you.