This inaugural installment features a classic rock anthem for your musical/drinking entertainment.
Heheheh, I laugh every time. The first (and best) Austin Powers is comic gold. Or is it Powers Gold?
Ah, the ascension of the modern drunk means that we can't be bothered by refills. Just pour the entire damn thing into this goblet and terrorize your home. Amazon's failure to market this with a carpet cleaner package is proverbial.
Also, from the convicts we have this fine idea:
Lazy Fridays...yes, an idea that must find purchase here. Ah, the Aussies...I can almost forgive the Gallipoli disaster, the multitude of lethal flora and fauna, and the wrong direction of your toilets if you keep coming up with gems like these.
Latitude 35 has been chugging along nicely since their grand opening. I've been several times for breakfast, lunch, dinner and just plain drinky-time. So far so good, though there have been a couple of hiccups you'd expect with a new establishment. Some have been unpreventable like when the AC units went out and it was a humid 85 degrees inside, or the 100 degree Sundown with Blues Traveller when an obese, unhealthy woman passed out on the patio right at the front door. Others small things like ambivalent service or poor sandwich construction will work themselves out over time. Behold the Cajun Shrimp Po'Boy (HL or MC's?):
Back in the college days, most young men will eventually acquire a full set of keg materials. Usually, you can get the keg pretty easily. The basin or trash can, for reasons I will shortly explain, can easily be obtained although it should come last. The tap is where most of us dipshit collegians run into trouble, so for a while you have to pay the damn deposit at Pilot.
And it had to be Pilot, because back then the Cumberland locale was the primary keg arsenal for the UTK student. Upon retrospect, I do wish there were more options but there was a reassuring and remarkable simplicity to obtaining a keg on short notice. The big yellow Pilot trash cans represented the epitome of serious drinking street cred, if your kegger sported the obscene yellow and red bastards, you were at a professional party. Utterly bizarre hierarchy. Also, if you had a backup tap(hubris) you were not to be trifled with in any capacity. What kind of rat bastard psycho has that kind of walking around change at 22?
Over the years, my items were passed along to a younger generation...which was good and proper. It also helps that Mackey and HL have kegerators, so I am cheating. They at times seem beset with attractive keg options...what with our fine friends at Woodruff and Bearden Beer Market leading the way. Pilot abides, as ever. Krogers and some of the nicer Ingles supermarkets will sell kegs in some capacity, and we've even seen a quick trip to Wallyworld bear some fruit. With great keg, comes great responsibility so choose your primary provider carefully. I mean, at least as much scrutiny as one's physician, since you'll be needing a score of those(conjecture).
Recently, during our trip to the Thunder Nationals, we had to go back to a fuck ton of bottled and canned beer which brings the usual logistical concerns. How much do we need? Coolers necessary? Of course, we started with a figure-and then doubled it. We still felt uneasy with that seemingly insignificant sum, so we invoked boozer pincet, by which we also buffet that beer with well over a gallon of liquor.
Terrible, terrible things.
Since it was frowned upon to wheel a keg in the grandstands anyway, we took our estimate for cooler ice and doubled it.
Still woefully inadequate, it turned out. Fortunately enterprising locals saved our asses by driving the ice truck from campsite to campsite. We salute this man for his American character and spirit. His timely delivery allowed all eight cases to perish with honor. He and Mackey engaged in a 20 minute conversation for some reason.So as we return to the free-flowing greatness that is keg beer, we think back to that fuzzy and vague weekend with great fondness. At least kegerators don't require some hoary Norse iceman to pull our nuts out of the fire.
The pineapple is emphasized. You can gauge this hefty bastard as a handle. We clobbered it, of course.
I digress, and now I get to my point. We Maker's Ambassadors have been told for months now to expect a new product from those fine people and we are thrilled with the release of "46" with the first bottles being dipped literally days ago. While it might be a while yet before we can drink them off the shelves, rest assured we'll give a full update.