I wish I had more general laudations to share, but apparently I drank so much that the libations are crowding the field. But here are the minor lauds I can muster.
It’s a beaut, isn’t it? I’m a very privileged woman; my folks bought me this bike after I graduated from undergrad and moved to Duluth in 2003, but really it was a combination graduation/moving/hey, sorry you just got diagnosed with UC present. It’s been parked inside through Duluth, Minnesota winters, outside (with a sketchy tarp) through Syracuse, New York winters, and outside in every kind of weather Texas has to offer. You see that chain? (I’m totally not zooming in on the chain. It’s shameful.) It’s the same. Damn. Chain. As when I first got the bike. Completely covered with rust – or rather, it was. A. and I braved the game-day crowds this weekend and took our bikes in for chain replacements.
Yeah, I’m a bad bike owner. But check out this bell:
Very ring-dingy, I’ll have you know.
Son of Rambow
I did make a point to see Rambo: First Blood beforehand, which helped (Even in the guise of Weird Al, Rambo was unwelcome in our house during my childhood), and a friend explained the sequels to me with such gusto that I feel if I saw them, they’d only disappoint. But on to the libs.
This was pure sweet deliciousness. It reminded me of mead, but not as cloyingly sweet and with a stronger kick. For more ancient recipe-inspired beers (and another Dogfish one), check out these links:
Full disclosure: I’m not a big IPA fan. When I want sour, I want a cocktail. This one was a major exception. I bought it on a whim because I like most of Saint Arnold’s stuff, and apparently all the sales go to (as the website says) “Operation Homefront…an organization that provides emergency financial and other assistance to the families of our service members and wounded warriors.” Cheers.
I’m still enjoying the Alaskan amber ale. But now that it’s finally starting to get chilly out, I’ll be looking for more dark beers. Left Hand milk stout, here I come.