Scholarly Life

Blah. I'm feeling uninspired at the Clark--the fancy research library I'm working at for a month. I felt briefly inspired and got some writing done and found some cool books, but now I think maybe what I was thinking is useless shit and that I'm not actually inspired. I'm not sure what I should be doing and am feeling some definite malaise.

In beer news, I drank a PBR last night. I bought a Pabst just to get my parking stub validated, thus buying a third rate 3.50 beer just to avoid a six dollar parking tab. Made sense really, but I hated the humiliation of ordering. Cuz you know the bartender is thinking, "what a schlub," when really I've forgotten more about beer than he ever knew. I should have said, "Do you have Delirium Tremens?" and then defaulted to Pabst.

Otherwise, I'm worrying about my Saison back home, Jerm's beers were good, Young's Double Chocolate Stout tasted better than I remembered, Lagunitas Gnarlywine is still good, and Fat Tire officially bites the big one. My god, what swill. It's just become such shit. Jeremiah and I agreed, at Woodstock's, that it smells of nothing but raw malt. Literally. It smells like a bag of wet grain. Never again, I say. I may brew a beer based on how I remember Fat Tire to be. Internet access is spotty, but there's a rare post for my two or three tireless readers. Sam said he reads my blog now and again just because nowhere else would be hear the phrase, "persnickety yeast." I appreciated that sentiment.