the friday ramble

So I think every friday I'm going to ramble for a good while just because I think it's fun. Hang on.

Got really drunk last night. I mean really drunk. Drunker than I've been in quite a while, maybe since Brian's birthday celebration. This is strange because I drank a lot out in Tahoe with hard drinking people and I didn't really get this hammered. I think there's a lot to be said for being in the proper physiological mood for heavy drinking. Anyway, started at a homebrewclub meeting where I drank a lot of good beer. Oh and I only had a falafel sandwich yesterday for dinner. Definately not a good foundation for hard drinking. Then Ryan and I went to Scotty's where they had $5 craft beer pitchers but these weren't regular sized pitchers. you only got about 3 pints out of them, but that's still less than $2 a pint of Bells Two Hearted IPA which is a good fucking deal. It was also open mic and I sang and played guitar and bellowed quite loudly and there was this very attractive young lady who was in charge of open mic who also had a really good voice and it was really creepy because she looked and sounded a lot a lot like this other young lady I briefly sang with one time who works at the Irish Lion. They looked oddly similar. I wonder if they're related? Anyway, then we went to the vid where we had a good conversation with the the bar tender dude who is a pretty cool guy. He says he has a shit ton of Cascade hops growing in his back yard and we can have them which is pretty fucking cool if you ask me. I think we should make a big old dry hopped american pale ale and throw a party for him. That would be fun. Anyway, so we took a cab home and I left my car on 7th street which was a fucking stupid ass idea. When I finally dragged my very hung over ass out of bed at around noon I got on my bike with my bike rack over my shoulder digging into my back and rode about 2 miles in the 92 degree swelter only to discover two $15 tickets under my windshield wipers. FUCK YOU BLOOMINGTON. I think I'm going to call into that 'talk to the mayor' show on the local public radio station and tell him he needs to institute a 'I didn't dirnk and drive' voucher that is issued by cabbies so that you don't have to pay parking tickets. I imagine it won't take though. Stupid Mark Cruzan. What the hell is he good for anyway? The bottom line of this part of the ramble is never try to ride your bike carrying your bike rack when you're really hung over two miles in 92 degree humidity. It's uncomfortable and, possible counterintuitively, doesn't do much for your hangover.

I also wanted to share some things that I've been meaning to put up here like this snake. Doesn't it kick ass? It's big huh? JennyB and I saw on in the Deam wilderness on one of the most poorly executed backpacking trips I've ever been on. That thing's like 7 feet long. JennyB about had a heart attack when she almost stepped on it.



Then on Monday I think it was, Mr.Ben Melby of the English dept. showed me the breaking away quarry and we jumped into it and swam around. It was pretty cool except for all the trash that was floating around in it. We saw a kid jump off the highest jump and almost die. He knocked the wind out of himself and his buddy had to jump in and help him swim to the ladder. Little shady if you ask me. Here is a good picture of Ben jumping into the quarry.



I had a deadline today for the new beer thing I'm writing for, Windy City Suds. I didn't make it. I did all the research yesterday and am planning to write it today and send it off to Whispering Jeff Platt, the editor, tonight. I don't think he'll be that pissed. So I think that's my plan tonight. I'll write that thing, read some Nabokov, I'm reading Lolita right now, I like it a lot, it kind of reminds me of Henry Miller but with more child molesting. So I'll read some Nabokov and finally get around to cooking that acorn squash that's been sitting in my fridge for 2 weeks. Hopefully it's still good. I definately don't think I'll be drinking tonight, that's fo' sho'.

Oh...also, here is a poem I wrote the other day that was partially inspired by my trip to california and a certain exgirlfriend. But it's not actually a true story:

I didn’t get to California until I was 26
And time before it didn’t really fit
My lifestyle and her erstwhile atmosphere

There were lots of things that could have been done
But all among em there’s not a one
That seemed like the right thing to do at the time

So I left her and she went west
I called her one morning and she’d up and left
‘Heading for the Bay Area most likely Matthew’

So I bided my time and lived my life
And didn’t think once about my future wife
Until one day she called and said that she’d found god

Apparently I was quicker than Jesus for when I interceded
She was more than happy to fuck me.