To The Beer Cave!

If you have beer requests for Saturday, the time to make them is now.

So, I’ve been enjoying the Summit Oktoberfest (you may call it Rocktoberfest if you like) with complete innocence for a couple of weeks now. Today I had one and noticed that I felt a little more… affected… than I had expected, so I went to the trusty (and flash-infested) Summit Brewery website, where I made the discovery that Oktoberfest has more alcohol than Maibock. If you had forgotten, Maibock is the beer that joined me on the path to get lost, cry my eyes out, and make a terrible mistake that I won’t share here. (not in that order or on the same nights)

Here’s an excerpt from a phone call I made tonight:

I’m gonna watch Garden State and weep.

Me too, except that I won’t be watching Garden State.

Guess which one was me. I heart Natalie Portman now that she’s legal. Remember when you and two other people were the only ones who knew about The Professional? Did you call it Léon because you were just that cool? I knew a ton of boys who had fallen for Natalie by the time Beautiful Girls came out. I didn’t intentionally wait until that Star Wars abomination came out, but something about the memory of a tiny Natalie trying not to cry while knocking on Jean Reno’s door kept me from seeing her as a target of desire. By the time Garden State and Closer graced my DVD drive, all hell broke loose.

I also find Zach Braff strangely alluring.

I’m pretty sure that most of you do not want to hear about my crushes on movie stars. You’d rather hear about my crush on you, one of your friends (or, jeez, let’s be honest, your girlfriend). What’s dramatic and funny is when I talk about the destruction that women rain upon my otherwise ordinary life, like seeing Evil Jacqui at Party City. Even Lisa recognized her. I forgot to mention in the previous post that Cake Woman knows Evil Jacqui, who doesn’t know me, so this is all pretty much just confusing to everyone.

Oh, and of course, there was one class of people who I was gonna try to invite to the Halloween party, but they appear to have a better invite (which I got through nefarious means):

Dear [BALEETED], I would like to cordially invite you all to attend a costume party at the home of [BALEETED] on the night of October the 29th. This is a Saturday evening. Please arrive sometime after the 8 o’clock hour dressed in your finest attire, and bring whatever ale or spirits you shall be consuming, as [BALEETED] have not the means to wine and dine you all. This party is bound to be the talk of the town so don’t miss it!! Our address is [BALEETED] in the Seward neighborhood. For directions, call [BALEETED].

But do they have free beer? Wait, wait, what about foosball? I bought new balls today! I’m buying crossbraces on Tuesday! Lube for the bearings! There will be… Halloween-type activities!

Feist is playing that night, too. I have half a mind to skip my own party and go see Feist.

5 Responses to “To The Beer Cave! ”

  1. Yeah you should go buy a new pair of balls. BURN!

  2. Garden State was just a ploy by Zach Braff to make out with Natalie Portman. That’s all it was. It has no merit as a film.

  3. Actually, I bought SIX balls for two dollars.

    That reminds me of one time when a girl was explaining to me how uncomfortable breasts are:

    Imagine if you had testicles the size of fists.

    I don’t have to imagine that.

    Why do you have to make everything so cheap?

  4. I don’t use the F word!

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