Poker Night Roundup #1: For a Bin Full of Bottles

Saturday night poker. Behold the aftermath:

Chowder, Catwalks, Coffee, and Cans

I hate cliches. They're almost as bad as thumbs-ups. Almost. And one of the worst cliches is the one about fridays. About thanking some form of a deity for them. And how we live for them.

Don't get me wrong. I love a friday as much, if not more, than anyone who has to work a nine to five on a Monday through a Friday. But it's ubiquitous. Everyone loves a friday. You don't need to tell me. Especially if I'm standing in front of a urinal.

Man at adjacent urinal: "Oh, man. Thank god it's Friday. Am I right?"

Me: "You realize you're looking at me and trying to talk to me while we are both micturating, yes?"

Man at adjacent urinal: "What?"

Me: "Eyes on the prize, pal."

Man at adjacent urinal: "You're weird."

Me: "We have a bingo."

Monday Night Mario Outburst

I can be a particularly lazy fellow. Although unmotivated may be a more apt description. That said, this post should have been written Monday night, but here we are. Wednesday morning. But this post is about Monday night. And about Mario. And perhaps a little Luigi. 

I had plans for Monday night. Intentions. Yard work. Weed pulling. Watering. But first we had to hit the store for weekly groceries. That trip changed everything.

We stopped by the beer aisle. A common occurrence. Misty, my partner and Indian companion*, asked if we wanted beer. I asked, "for what?" A stupid question. Misty said she wants to play more Mario**. I smiled. Sweet, sweet excuses for procrastination.

Impaled by Massive Thumbs

There's something I do that I totally loathe, and when people do it I cringe. When I do it, and I do it often, I hate myself. But I keep doing it.

It's the thumbs up. To indicate approval or excitement. I do it all the time, and I hate it.

There is maybe one exception to this. The only person to make a thumbs up look okay is Joaquin Phoenix in the 2001 Ridley Scott film, Gladiator, and that might only be because of the implications behind the thumbs down. Although, I have heard that historically it was the opposite than what was portrayed in the movie. That the thumbs down meant you pass, and the thumbs up meant execution.

I knew there was a reason I never trusted Roger Ebert.

Was that too soon?

An Introduction and a Mission Statement

Me. Covered in mud. 

Let's get one thing straight and out of the way. 

This blog is about me. 

Sure, the name might suggest otherwise, but this is just a vehicle for me to write about what I want to write about. 

There will be beer, however. Oh yes. There will be beer. With a local Spokane focus. But that doesn't mean it will only be about Spokane beer, but rather about my experiences with beer in and around Spokane. There might be some on the road posts. Or posts about beer from other places that I'm simply drinking at home while grilling or watching Project Runway. 

In any case, most posts will include something related to beer and something related to my personal experiences here in or around Spokane. I might do interviews with local beer brewers, bar owners, and other quality craft beer enthusiasts, but this blog will likely just end up being my rants and diatribes paired with a delicious beer. Or two. Or three. I'll talk about food, too. Because food is awesome. 

In any case, whatever this is or becomes is up to me, and hopefully it's entertaining for other people. But as long as I'm entertained, I'll keep it going.