This past Friday morning I was off from work (AWESOME!), so after running around Thursday night, I was free to do it all over again on Friday. Except do it all day. It's now Sunday and I'm drawing a blank on what I did on Friday. Oh yeah...
My friend was talking about a pool party, but I couldn't get him on the phone to give me his damn address. After working out and kind of lollygagging much of the day making pitiful attempts to clean up the house, I decided to take the show on the road and hit the Saucer for some Pilsnering.
The Northcaost Scrimshaw Pils was on tap and on Fire Sale, and I hadn't had it at the Saucer yet, so I was all for it. I had it as a 4 Star due to it being a good strong pilsner, but this time it was pretty basic. Not as hoppy as I remember but it was rather dry, almost chalky. Oh well, three stars for now. Nothing like some more Pilsners to keep it going, so it was all about Pilsner Urquell for some calibration. Most of the times I've had this beer (on tap) I've found it pleasant, but this time it was similar to the Scrimshaw, just a little more bitter. Now I know something is up with ye olde palette. No sense in even writing too many formal reviews for now. I could be that I'm still kicking a slight cold and my nose is staying stuffed up. Lord knows that hop aroma always helps.
Last one was the Flensburger Pilsener out of Germany. The Huns put this in a brown bottle, great way to keep . White big head and a brilliantly clear color. I could read my book through the beer. It was ye stronger on the hops and maybe a little sweeter. It has some icky bitterness on the aftertaste I've never really enjoyed even in perfect health. Lacy head and pretty dry. It's alright.
After sobering up, I drove over to Specs Downtown to find a few good bombers (22 oz bottles) to take to my homegirls house party. Love her too death but I knew there wouldn't be much on the way of beer, and I think it was Charlie Papazian who has a fear of being stuck somewhere without good beer. Or maybe it was Gordon Strong. Oh well. Some Three Philosophers and Allagash Tripel did the trick. At the party there were only a few of us, so I got them to sample some new drinks. Both beers went over real well. Something about those stronger belgian beers that can convert many folks to beer drinking.
I did manage to pick up some new Lagunitas at Specs as well, but haven't gotten to it yet. Seems like Lagunitas is just hitting folks with strong beer after strong beer, many with names either suggesting they've all been arrested or that their best friends are black.
We played poker at the game night and we all broke out around 11PM. Why not get back in the car and drive 30 miles back to downtown to hang out some more. The boys were talking about going to a strip club to watch the Lakers game (riiiiiiiiiiiight), but eventually punked out and went to like a chicken joint. (How is it your girl is out of town and you are not somewhere that has an abundance of short skirts, or better?) Nobody seemed to be answering their phones, but I did catch one of my friends that told me to meet him at the Tipsy Clover.
This bar has been in Midtown for a long time and very few people know it exists. Had to ask about three cops how to get there. Although it's right in the thick of things, it still hard to find. I think every town has these places that are really great hangouts, but no one can tell you how to get there. Kinda like Pirates of the Caribbean, you just starting driving and somehow you just end up there. This dive bar like joint was packed and jamming. Lots of my younger coworkers were grinding on each other over by the pool tables, very nice. Very multicultural enviro. Music was loud, but they had a nice handful of beer taps, including a Sam Adams Seasonal. I opted for some Shock Top instead, which is probably one of the best beers brewed by Belgians down at Anhueser-Busch. Very good white ale. Makes me think I need to do a Blue Moon vs. Shock Top vs. Leine Sunset Wheat triple threat review.
We left Tipsy Clover sometime in the middle of the night and decided to hit Chachos. A Houston mainstay. This all night Mexican restaurant looks like it used to be a body shop, and then probably a cocaine stash house, and now a restaurant with a pretty decent Margarita. Plus it's a great opportunity to see ghetto-ass women with all kinds of jacked up hairstyles that can sometimes make you want to leave the black race. After a few laughs and hoping to watch a fight break out, we had to call it a night. It was already 3 AM and I had an 8 AM golf appointment. No strip clubs this time and I managed to probably convince a few folks at the various establishments that I'm one of those oversexed guys. Oh well. I'm married anyway. What they gonna do, NOT get with me? Heaven Forbid.
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