It was tough to leave you this morning. You looked so cozy and warm, that all I could think about was nuzzling up next to you and falling back asleep. It's breaking my heart, but I'll be forced to count the minutes--nay, seconds--until I can see you again tonight, but I'll live--for you.
Plus, my kitchen floor is filthy, and the buckets in which you'll be residing for the next two weeks are cold and uninviting.
How does one go about professing his love to his homebrew? My heart weighs heavy with that decision right now.
So, uh, yeah, I currently have 4 different beers--5 gallons each--bub, bub, bubbling away in my apartment. 20 gallons of malty, hoppy goodness, just waiting for me to turn it to pee. The epitome of an unselfish lover. To say that I've been taken over by this "hobby" is an understatement. If I were the type of person to use the phrase "it consumes me", I'd say that right now. But, I'm not, so I won't.
In fact, I consume it. Nyuck nyuck.
(Oh god, I'm so unfunny and forced sometimes that it's surprising I don't get less site traffic, even though that's almost an impossibility.)
Next on the plan is to build a kegerator out of a chest freezer, 3 packs of Dubble Bubble, and with the help of a miniature sherpa named Yerba. Yerba the sherpa. Hey, I didn't name him. Since I've started making my own beer, I've ordered the Department of the Treasury to reallocate money from the "Bar Fund", to the "Homebrew Fund", and while I know you're saying; Hey, Chad, you're still spending all that money on alcohol! While that is technically the truth(pffft, truth), the key distinction is that I'm not spending all that extra money on tips to bubbly, overtly flirtatious bartenders(that's just the dudes!) and an outrageous alcohol tax.
So, that's a plus for me in the win column of life, I guess. Thus ends my update on beer.
Oh, wait, one more thing! I just learned yesterday that there's a bar in Chicago, on Hoyne Ave N, called The Map Room. If you don't understand why I'm so fucking freaked out right now, then you don't know me well enough. Personally, just between you and me here, folks, if I thought my car would've made it down to Chicago without bursting into flames or losing an entire axel, I would've driven down there last night so I could be there by this morn at 6:30am.
It's all to beautiful too be mere coincidence.
Plus, my kitchen floor is filthy, and the buckets in which you'll be residing for the next two weeks are cold and uninviting.
How does one go about professing his love to his homebrew? My heart weighs heavy with that decision right now.
So, uh, yeah, I currently have 4 different beers--5 gallons each--bub, bub, bubbling away in my apartment. 20 gallons of malty, hoppy goodness, just waiting for me to turn it to pee. The epitome of an unselfish lover. To say that I've been taken over by this "hobby" is an understatement. If I were the type of person to use the phrase "it consumes me", I'd say that right now. But, I'm not, so I won't.
In fact, I consume it. Nyuck nyuck.
(Oh god, I'm so unfunny and forced sometimes that it's surprising I don't get less site traffic, even though that's almost an impossibility.)
Next on the plan is to build a kegerator out of a chest freezer, 3 packs of Dubble Bubble, and with the help of a miniature sherpa named Yerba. Yerba the sherpa. Hey, I didn't name him. Since I've started making my own beer, I've ordered the Department of the Treasury to reallocate money from the "Bar Fund", to the "Homebrew Fund", and while I know you're saying; Hey, Chad, you're still spending all that money on alcohol! While that is technically the truth(pffft, truth), the key distinction is that I'm not spending all that extra money on tips to bubbly, overtly flirtatious bartenders(that's just the dudes!) and an outrageous alcohol tax.
So, that's a plus for me in the win column of life, I guess. Thus ends my update on beer.
Oh, wait, one more thing! I just learned yesterday that there's a bar in Chicago, on Hoyne Ave N, called The Map Room. If you don't understand why I'm so fucking freaked out right now, then you don't know me well enough. Personally, just between you and me here, folks, if I thought my car would've made it down to Chicago without bursting into flames or losing an entire axel, I would've driven down there last night so I could be there by this morn at 6:30am.
It's all to beautiful too be mere coincidence.
posted by Irritable Male Syndrome @ 8:08 AM
3 Comments:
The map room was actually one of the places that I thought about taking the group in June. I've been there several times - great beer selection. But didn't realize it was off Hoyne.
Lucky for the guy I sleep with, I don't mind taking back burner to deliciously crafted home brew.
Those who wish to enjoy Chicago's breath-taking views and sights without having to worry about transportation should check out what used cars Chicago lots have to offer.
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