If Steve left, why is he still here?


So I missed Steve’s going away party at the Beer Circus. I’m at the
Beer Circus and so is Steve, minus the onion breasts (thankfully).
So I missed Steve’s going away party at the Beer Circus. I’m at the
Beer Circus and so is Steve, minus the onion breasts (thankfully).
Belgium Revisited….and not a moment too soon!
Well it doesn’t seem like a year since we were last there, but despite that I think we left it too long before revisiting.
Sure, those of us lucky enough not to live in South Carolina can buy most Belgian beers at our local supermarket, but that’s just not the same. You have to be there to fully enjoy the beer…drinking it at mid day in Grand Plas in the sunshine, or washing down shrimp croquets, tucking into the stomp, or even scoffing an occasional horse steak!
Anyhow, your corespondent has found a new favorite beer – Maredsous Triple. Its up there in the same league as Westvleteren 12.
Having discovered something so pleasant (and effective) it took great will power to to even consider trying other beers.
But my sense of duty prevailed and I tried a few other varieties, only returning to the Maredsous 2 or 3 times a day.
We also found some new friends…a contingent of similar minded guys from The Netherlands.
We got on so well we didn’t need to learn each others names….or maybe the beer just killed those brain cells… Whatever, the camera didn’t forget.
Of course we are all health conscious individuals and so in the evenings we took care to make sure we got our daily dose of fruit and vegetables.
Luckily the new Floris Garden serves magnificent mojitos…..rich in anti-oxidants they’re the ideal “detox” drink, clearing the pallet and readying one for the next round of beers.
The bar was out of jugs and so kindly served us the cocktails in pint glasses. What service! (antique phone provided to show scale).
The weekend passed all to soon. Time to start planing the next visit!
R.A.B.
I can’t believe that almost a year has passed, and not a word has been written about last year’s trip to Brussels for Belgian Beer Weekend 2006.
ColoniAL dutifully reported on the Amsterdam leg of the tour, but not a word was written about those 4 nights in Brussels.
For this reporter, I can only say that any attempt to describe the trip with words just seemed to take away from the magic.
I did take some notes at the beginning of the trip. So I know that it all began with an Orval in the lobby bar of the Ibis, as we waited to meet up with some of the early arrivals. A Westmalle Tripel followed (the selection at the Ibis lobby bar isn’t the most extensive, but in any other town it would be nothing to complain about).
I remember the beer festival itself on the Grand Place. It was a great location from such a festival, if a bit crowded. I remember the Irish guy who was hitting on Rosie … or maybe he was hitting on Dale … I remember he kept talking about how his friends sometimes wondered if he was gay as he was the only unmarried one among his group of Irish friends who had made their way to the beer festival. I think he was trying to hit on Rosie, but he might have been distracted by Dale’s bulging biceps …
Another great evening at the Beer Circus in Croydon … and I may not be there to partake, but my spy camera did capture the following disturbing image …
Young Steve is about to embark on a year long move to Paris, and he’s been catching up on the latest fashion trends. Unfortunately, his fashion consultant is Grandpa Simpson:
“We can’t bust heads like we used to, but we have our ways. One trick is to tell ’em stories that don’t go anywhere—like the time I caught the ferry over to Shelbyville.I needed a new heel for my shoe, so, I decided to go to Morganville, which is what they called Shelbyville in those days. So I tied an onion to my belt, which was the style at the time. Now, to take the ferry cost a nickel, and in those days, nickels had pictures of bumblebees on ’em. ‘Give me five bees for a quarter,’ you’d say. Now where were we? Oh yeah—the important thing was that I had an onion on my belt, which was the style at the time. They didn’t have white onions because of the war. The only thing you could get was those big yellow ones…”
The onion necklace is a 21st century variation of the style … and I understand it is taking Paris by storm.
Good luck in Paris Steve, it looks like you’re going to need it!
How many Pints do you need to see beyond the Event Horizon?
Having been hibernating for the last 12 or so months your correspondent was lucky enough to wake up just in time for the Great British Beer Festival 2007.
Our group converged from exotic places far and wide – South Carolina, North and South Croydon, Redhill….
There was a fine selection of 300 or more beers and we were determined to down a sample pint or two of most of them. The pasties were good too!
Things were going well, but by 8pm the Alcohol Induced Time Dilation Effect was already starting to kick in. Not only that, but we were witness to another stranger-than-reality quantum event…it happened like this…..
It was mid evening and having downed only 6 or 7 pints we were obviously still at the height of our observational powers when suddenly a colleague shouted that someone had stolen my beer! Outrageous! We leapt to our feet and gave chase…we caught the hapless suspect but he didn’t have a clue what we were talking about! Strange….very strange! Then imagine our surprise when we returned to our table only to find the beer glass – and contents – right there in front of us! Spooky! How could that have happened?
Of course, the only possible explanation is that the glass must have been temporarily sucked in and out of a micro worm hole (they’re getting quite common in West London, especially near bars). The virtual thief, seen by my reliable friend, was obviously some kind of phantom artifact at the event horizon. Luckily we had had enough beer to calm our nerves and we decided to carry on drinking regardless. That’s the true blitz spirit!
Next adventure: Brussels 31st August (preceded by a limbering-up session at the Beer Circus, Croydon, 23rd August).
R.A.B.
P.S. if a half drunk pint of English bitter should happen to spontaneously appear in front of you you know where it came from….don’t worry, just blink and it will be gone.
1. Everyone who used to post here has given up the drink and is now politely typing away on the Competitive Scrapbooking Blog.
2. In what can best be described as a freak occurrence, everyone has simultaneously drank their collective foot off. Police insist that the incidents are “unrelated”.
3. My dear friends and beer guzzling compatriots have FINALLY modeled there lives after Jack Nobrains and are comfortably secured within their mansions watching Brokeback Mountain over and over while trying to figure out how the Xbox 360 controller works.
Regardless of the reasons I have decided to post a cautionary tale. This, my dear friends, is what can happen if the drink speaks louder than reason. A few weeks ago, the boys in ASOF got together and had a pint or six. At some point during that conversation the fateful words “Wouldn’t it be funny if …” started a sentence … but it also started a whole lot more.
My sad, disillusioned singer decided that it would be a good idea to create the world’s only Punk Rock Britney Spears Tribute Band. And yes, it seemed like a good idea at the time. A beer here, a rehearsal there, and two weeks later we had what is now HitMeBaby – The Only Punk Rock Britney Spears Tribute Band You’ll Ever Need.
Oh, if only I were joking.
Since that time we have played ultra-fast, hyper-aggressive yet tween friendly renditions of Ms. Spears tunes to sold out crowds throughout Oregon. I am ashamed to report that it is to date the most successful thing I’ve done musically and yes, has claimed the teeny bit of credibility and dare I say – dignity – that I had left. But the money is good and there is almost always beer involved. I invite you to share in my coinciding shame and success. www.myspace.com/bangingbritney – you can also see pics from our first show HERE.
I can only hope that we are worthy of a Skippy The Lizard post. Dare I say that we may become his new favorite band.
Please drink more, and then write more. I know there are still stories to tell.