Hops. Yeast. BAC. All good things. This blog examines the subculture of fine ale and the discerning, whimsical palette. You don't have to be over 21 to enjoy these postings, but I do recommend you play along at home.



Sometimes when a group of people dine together, they talk. Usually, this always happens, unless that dinner party is made up of mutes and the deaf. (Which very well could be a peaceful, relaxing meal. One I'll never know.) Sometimes, the stuff people talk about is, to put it nicely, "everyday" or "run of the mill" or "fucking boring." Sometimes, you have to shake it up. Sometimes, the stuff people talk about, rather, the stuff Gibson (Warriors fan, remember?) talks about involves masturbating on a regular basis at a local and prestigious university's library while on the job. (Getting paid to whack off has got to be on of the all-time great, if not rarely practiced, pastimes of the male species. And requires, literally and not so literally, some grande cajones.) Sometimes, people share too much about themselves. And sometimes, a dinner party of mostly conservative females wishes they stayed home that night. The moral of the story is, next time you go to he library, lift the seat up and hover.


Anonymous Krista said...

Who ya' calling conservative, honkey?

3:38 PM  

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