Well, this year, I wanted to go out. I really, really did. There are so many events and concerts and bars with giveaways and prizes and stupid, sloshed weirdos...I almost felt the urge to leave my cave to drink-puke-cry like the best of 'em.
I'm staying in. I may have purposely sabotaged myself this year, but I'm gonna spend this fine holiday by lying down because holy shit I'm nursing a hangover and my guts hurt. I know it was only a beer fueled bender last night, but I feel like I ate a giant pizza covered in pollutants and toxins found in chemical dumps and landfills. Oh, maybe it was the actual, greasy pizza I ate at one in the morning that's caused this irreversible pain. All five, wet slices of death and cheese.
If anyone asks, I got too excited. I celebrated early. And now I'm paying the price with Vitamin water that doesn't do a damn thing and Netflix.
I can't not drink tonight. Call it tradition, call it alcoholism, call it a flag-waving salute to fun.
Harp Lager. I like Harp Lager. I'm not a huge beer snob, but I can't stand cheap American stuff and anything you can't read the newspaper through. I'm a sissy, yes, I can't chug sludge. Sometimes IPA's are too much, as well. My all time favorite are sunny, sparkling lagers. Stuff that looks like apple juice and tastes like water from a spring in Germany. I've heard of these springs of endless, flowing beer. They exist. I know they do.
I might make half and halfs, if only because I'm a slave to consumerism and bought a six pack of Guinness. They're a good and tasty, but I think the real charm lies in the idea that you mix two beers together to create a new beer. You use a spoon to drizzle the Guinness into the Harp, fusing the alcohol and hops and all the junk into...well, into science. You're drinking science. And that's a good feeling.
Have fun, dudes!