Caught in the eye of the storm where the only calm is my own individual thoughts....

Imagine the dark ominous masses of shitty beer and shitty music colliding into the perfect storm disguised as fair-weather sailing and you will indeed have painted the mural of yesterday's experience. Beware of false profits and false dive bars my fellow pub crawlers! So you walk into a dive bar. It looks deliciously trashy with the tattooed bouncer at the door with his little messenger hat...collecting a cover?! okay... so a $3 cover... Im ready to go at this point... I wasn't aware that there was a band or something exciting happening within...well before I know it my cover was paid for me and I was inside much to my chagrin. I look around and there are some very beautiful people ones that look interesting we can sit down and discuss whiskey musings and music and how one beer is better than the next or about their next survival adventure abroad, hot long hairs, odd hipsters, punkers and beatniks... Well that would be all fine and dandy if they weren't playing "Im a trashy bastard with syphilis and ho's." I sit at the bar already irritated that money (be it mine or someone else) was wasted. I look at the taps and my little heart takes it's final plunge to its death as I see bud light, coors light, triangle hef, and Bud. I've lost it. I am a fucking terrorist. I look to my right and there is this man with anti-christian patches hand sewed to his military jacket and a misfits patch to the left of that one... I look to my left and there is a long hair (he was totally cute) with a pink floyd t-shirt on and they were both drinking cranberry vodkas and appearing to be having the dog's bullocks of a good time- then this terrible panic comes over me. My entire body has run cold. All of my favorite things in my life are all right here, but in their worst form! I realize that I must have done something very bad either in this life or a previous one, for I have indeed died and gone to hell. I sat there in hells pit for 20 agonizing minutes forcing my apparently brain-dead husband and the friend that dragged me there in the first place to finish their well drinks. Am I alone in this? This "pulse of a nation" that is indeed a clusterfuck of ignorance and filth? You may shop your thrift stores, you may eat organic but you're indeed no better than the people you are trying not to be! I wish I had a camera of all the posers in there to expose the "gangsta" within to all their little indie friends. And you ask me why I would rather be off in the woods alone. You ask me why I choose to sit up in my tree-house for hours at a time alone? My company is the best purest company that I have ever experienced. Sure I love having friends but if someone can't be alone with themselves they can't be themselves with others, do you not think?

"Good People Drink Good Beer, No Shit" -Hunter S. Thompson

After this sticky flystrip of a bar we went to a previous location called the Iron Mule, which any bar that uses Iron Maiden's font for their logo is rockin' to me. And I realized the social labels were gone! Glenn saved me with a 22oz Stone IPA and we took over the jukebox with Pelican, Led Zeppelin, Steve Miller and Ozzy and to hell with anyone who didn't like it... Alas! it was the people's choice to listen to what they wanted to, drink the water of the gods and play pool...hell you can even smoke in there, for those of you who partake. The people in there were "down." Down to drink and have a good time and not pollute their souls with the mindless swill of Clearchannel's Megateat of torment. Down to hang out and be alive.

At this moment I'm perched on the edge of humanity like the little lemming at the back of the pack watching everyone fall and realizing that there's indeed a cliff there that I do not wish to explore, but the devil in me still wants to sit back and watch the masses fall to their deaths no matter how much it hurts to see it feels good to know I am not as much as a tool as them. On that note. I don't plan on leaving the house for a couple days, at least until I get this nasty tick of wanting to throw the heaviest object at the next tool I see. Once that is under control we shall see....

Posted in: Brewpubs,Political Rantings