I was just hanging out with some enthusiasts this weekend, and it killed me to see how excited they were for really mediocre beer.  On the one hand, I feel spoiled as hell- today’s mediocre beer would have been mind blowing fifteen years ago.  So maybe I’m being a little picky, but all the same, hearing everyone rave…

Here I thought somebody used a bun as a compress after getting stabbed in a drive through.  I’m not a sports guy.  Even if I were, I have a special pit of hatred for football.

The brewery whose beer I drink the most of takes their QC very seriously. A lot of people think their beer is boring, but it is the most consistent brewer in town- I’ve only once had a batch that tasted slightly odd, and it was from sitting too long (nine months- I started checking dates after that).

Man... I didn’t realize that turned into a thing.  There are so few affordable sneakers that are easily found in wide sizes.

I’m torn, because I get that beer is a living thing sometimes, and if English barleywines were ticking time bombs, well, I’d be fastidious about keeping them safe.  But all the same, it seems like a dangerous exercise for brewers, if not straight up irresponsible.

I’m not a fan of a lot of the suspect styles, but these days, some of the crazy milkshake sours/etc come with warnings from the brewers to constantly keep refrigerated. Sometimes from refermentation, sometimes from particles.

I’ve reached the age where strangers trying to convince me how cool their playlist is annoys the crap out of me. So something familiar enough, quiet enough to mostly ignore, and fade into the background while the rest of the restaurant experience stands out is fine by me.

Grimace. I always thought I saw Grimace outside my window. Living in ten acres of woods, man.

Well, good thing I go straight through there to Miesville for Wiederholt’s supper club or King’s Place burgers. Seems maybe a little smaller than I was picturing, but not too far off.

I only went one year when I was 8 or 9.  When you live in the sticks with no neighbors, it just doesn't happen. Probably why I spoil kids with full sized now. 

You’re not wrong, but Dakota county tends to be more suburban than rural.  Full of the kinds of bars where people who never grew up try to act like frat kids well into their forties.

I’ve been trying to figure out which bar did this (I live in the same county).  It’s sad that I can picture many of them doing this, so I can’t even really narrow it down.

I once went to a “fermentation bar” that served an open faced peanut butter and kimchi sandwich.  Similar idea, and it was plenty tasty.  I could see pickles cutting the sweetness of the peanut butter.

So close between Kate and Marnie this time. Pork fried rice is always my number 1, but egg rolls and egg foo young... ever since I watched Sandwiches You Will Like, I’ve been dying to have a real honest-to-god St. Paul sandwich.

Good for you... one of my coworkers is dealing with Gout. This is the guy I talk beer and meat with, so I feel like a jerk every time I send him a new article about a new cut of red meat, or what I’m putting on the smoker this weekend. I usually don’t realize until afterward that I’m probably sending him crap that he…

Anthony forever ruined the proud name Weiner for people who never had any problem with that name growing up.

I always enjoy his "car casting in this popular TV show" articles. I even sent an email once suggesting he do one for Comrade Detective.  We could all suggest period appropriate cocktails for the cup holders or something. 

I made exactly one comment that ever got out of the greys there. Luckily, it was a pun that only relied on me knowing there was a car known as a “Golf.” I read and enjoy some articles there, but am an absolute idiot mechanically.

I have a few hundred, but one of my contacts on there has about 15k.  It’s funny, we do beer trades... she’ll inevitably post a beer I’ve traded out there, then the brewery will start sending her stuff.  I guess I’m making influencer connections from my little practically anonymous account.

ewwwwwwwwwweweweweeeewwww.  I’ll never forgive myself for opening that door.