Cold Air, Cold Beer

Bell's Hopslam beer is without a shred, a micron, a jot, dash or smidgeon of doubt my new favorite mind altering chemical.

Thick, slightly sweet, packed with high alpha acid hops like Cascades that work like a valium, and what must be a barley wine level of ethanol, it's both dangerous and sublime. Worthy of the five dollar a glass price tag.

And I have to say that my new favorite bar is Dexters Pub on North and Johnson.

Good pub chips, fairly good pizza and walking distance from home, and it's not crowded or loud like The Harmony, and the bartenders are less grumpy.

I hate when Allison yells at people and acts like a hard ass about folks who aren't drunk.

I still think Mickey's has the best burger in a bar in this town, though. And brunch on the weekends.

Last night's ragged and bliss filled practice with Mikey and Fry, today's long walk in the cold winter air, followed by a fine pair of beers with Kori has taken the edge off this strange and sorta ugly week.

That cold front blew a little clarity in, too. Upon further reflection, cutting the baby in half doesn't seem so hard. Metaphorically speaking, that is. Not that I know what to do with two halves of a baby, I tend not to eat my own kind, and there's all that unpleasant paperwork if somebody finds out...