And the award goes to…DR. FUNK DUNKEL

My Fellow Inebriates,

We have fallen off the wagon.

Not that wagon. That wagon has left town.

The writing wagon. First we went away for the holidays, then the computer needed a brain transplant, then my parents got super-busy…next thing you know this blog had become an afterthought—with the abysmal stats to show for it.stats Feb 2013

Not that it’s ever had great stats! Even after being Freshly Pressed (which turns out to be a bit like the Oscar curse), this space is less a blogging thoroughfare than some random, deviant alleyway into which a lapse in judgment might propel you. My stats suck so much, MFI, that I don’t even really look at them anymore.

So I couldn’t have been more surprised to receive a nomination this week.

Very Inspiring Blogger award

Egad, what the hell is that? Flattering, no doubt, but the majority of LBHQ’s inhabitants shudder  to think what sorts of activities this blog inspires. But we’ll take it, right?

The kind nomination came from ONCE A PERSON, NOW A PARENT (resonant, wouldn’t you say?). Even though I was never a person or a parent, it resonates with me—at least at the intersection of family life and alcohol (and there is one).

These awards come with rules, which my two neurons usually forget or mangle somehow, but the gist is you have to:

  1. Display the award.
  2. Link back to the person who nominated you.
  3. State 7 things about yourself.
  4. Nominate 15 bloggers for this award and notify them by linking to one of their posts.

Before I distort these rules, I should mention my neurons have been bathing in PHILLIPS DR. FUNK DUNKEL, a Bavarian dark lager my dad found this evening. After flagellating each other for a while, the two brain cells decided we would nominate 4 fellow bloggers so that we could spend some time explaining why they inspire us and still have time to flood ourselves with more DR. FUNK DUNKEL.

2742_drfunkWhich is to say we like it. Neurons 1 and 2 agree—it pours a dark but clear chocolate hue with tan froth that laces the glass generously and lingeringly while issuing agreeable caramel, malt, and coffee notes, plus some more basic roasty-toasty chords with perhaps a little metal. Victoria-based Phillips Brewing Company has a definite “house” tasting note, and while it’s present in DR. FUNK, it’s not amped up. Sniff this stuff and you’ll want more.

On the palate DR. FUNK is crisp and punchy with a delicious malty payoff: chocolate, coffee beans, and nuts with nicely balanced hops that linger pleasantly. The mouthfeel is creamy despite generous carbonation, creating the sort of equilibrium that couldn’t otherwise be communicated across my solitary synapse. This dunkel offers all sorts of interesting stuff without any big taste departures; it’s a pleaser without sucking up. And the ABV? At 5% DR. FUNK isn’t the creeper my brain cells and I favor, but as with our newfound award, we’ll take it.

7 things

Okay, so 7 things about yours truly. This is a toughie, because I want to share 7 new(ish) things, and let’s face it, I have bugger-all going on.

  1. I sleep with my eyes open, especially when Fluffy the possessed bear is nearby.
  2. The song “How Soon Is Now?” by the Smiths is often stuck in my head.
  3. One day I would like to visit the Creationist Museum and join one of its willfully fact-blind tours. Maybe I could ride one of the animatronic dinosaurs (the way people did 6000 years ago)… 😉
  4. The funniest book I read last year was “The Corrections” by Jonathan Franzen.
  5. I really hope my parents dissuade 7-year-old Miss P from joining Brownies. It seems to be all about conformity.
  6. Sometimes I like one of the kids better than the other, and just when I start feeling guilty about it, my preference shifts to the other.
  7. BONUS FACT!! I lack a functional anus.

And now for the nominations:

A Clown on Fire. All those things I should be doing with this blog, Le Clown is doing, and more. He has a hell of a community, a zillion comments per post, and too bad if you’re offended. Le Clown sets the bar for carnies like me.

Artstormer. Life without art would be almost as meaningless as life without alcohol. I never miss an Artstormer post.

Beerbecue. If you thought my reviews got a little tangential, check out beerbecue’s. The difference is, he brings everything into focus, PLUS he actually knows about beer. All while breathing the eucalyptus-and-gin kavorka of Barry the koala.

Cider Monger. Who knew what a multiplicity of ciders existed beyond my local booze shop? Cider has been badly neglected at LBHQ but reading Cider Monger will get us educated.

That’s it: 4 nominations. No matter how good your blog is and how much I admire it, my paws are tired of clicking on that little “link” icon. Besides which, nominating just 2 bloggers would make this shout-out sufficiently exponential, 4 ensures everyone everywhere will get a nomination even if they’re just standing around scratching their genitals, and 15…15 might collapse the whole goddamn universe.

Tag! You’re it. You’re its. All 11 of you.

My Fellow Inebriates,

As depicted by Miss P (and in reality) I have, at most, two brain cells. So when Clip Snark, of whom I’m a big fan, tagged me with this little game I told myself to remember it and then promptly forgot.

It’s not an award, although it does come with a graphic reminiscent of certain other chain-letter-style awards. Cool enough for me, Snarky.

Besides, my parents haven’t opened any bottles lately. I have nothing to review. 😦

So here are the rules:

  • Post the rules (okay, here)
  • Answer the questions (sure)
  • Create 11 new questions (nah, these ones are good enough…except one…guess which)
  • Tag 11 people with a link to your post (this is a good day to do this; I’m sober—AGONIZINGLY SOBER)
  • Let them know you’ve tagged them (well, they’ll see the click, I bet—but I’ll try)

Questions

  1. Do you have a test or tests that help you judge someone’s character? Uh, no. I gravitate to drunken, apocalyptic types, but I don’t have any criteria they have to meet. If someone can be with me and not beat the hell out of me, they’re usually okay.
  2. When did you first feel like a grown-up? When my parents gave me this bear-sized bottle of mescal I thought I was on my way. But then they wouldn’t open it. Ever.
  3. What is something you read that made you wish you could write that well? Check this out.
  4. What do you say when you answer the phone? The what? I’ve never thought of answering the phone.
  5. Have you ever stiffed someone on a tip? My parents have never taken me to a bar (I could ride in a purse, damn it). And I don’t really do solids, so I’ve never had a restaurant meal. But if I did, I would leave a huge tip. Massive.
  6. Do you have a favorite writing utensil? No. I don’t like utensils; they are generally out to get me. What the world needs is a line of utensils that don’t require opposable thumbs.
  7. Do you use a calendar? For what?
  8. Do you have road rage? No. I don’t have ‘roid rage either.
  9. Are you a morning person or a night owl? Neither; I’m drunk at both ends.
  10. What surprised you about blogging when you first started? That I continued.
  11. If you could drink anything at all, what would you choose? Shiraz.

Okay, on to 11 lucky bloggers…

Beerbecue

The Waiting

Momma’s Money Matters

theadventuresoftransman

Rant and Roll

Yoyodyne Propulsion Systems: Reno Division

boydrinksworld

Becoming Cliché

I’ll Sleep When They’re Grown

Awkward Laughter 

ArtStormer

Taaaggggg.

SEA DOG AMBER ALE—Perfect with the Liebster

I was totally hosed last night and started clicking on my stats randomly. I was wondering why I don’t get any hatemail (seriously) and if the spam filters are magically sparing my feelings by weeding any ill wishes out. I noticed one of my clicks had come from Awkward Laughter, who’d just been given the Liebster Blog Award and, chain-letter style, spread the love to yours truly.

Even though I’m cynical about awards and the exponential potential to blanket everyone in plaudits whether they deserve them or not, I love getting them and I’m grateful for the notice.

Here’s the deal on the Liebster Blog Award. It’s for small blogs that merit more notice than they’re getting. Like dorky smart kids. Ha! As I told my parents, there’s nothing more dorky than adult humans who have conversations with teddy bears.

By which I mean to say my parents are card-carrying nerds. Not you, my fellow inebriates. Of course I didn’t mean you.

For you I have a booze recommendation: SEA DOG AMBER ALE from Vancouver Island Brewery, the last of four beers I sampled from the Pod Pack.

But first:

The award goes to…three to five deserving blogs. Okay, I have no idea how many followers you have, so don’t get offended if you have a zillion and I’ve bestowed this on you erroneously. Just know that I like you, I read you, and tag, you’re it.

theadventuresoftransman

onmysquare

dampsquid

While I’m at it I should tell you guys about the award, but I’ll probably forget, so you might have to bump drunkenly around your dashboard to find it. That is, if you drink all the SEA DOG in a Pod Pack plus some of the other three sample beers. After doing this very thing, I’d rank the four varieties as follows:

  1. HERMANN’S DARK LAGER
  2. PIPER’S PALE ALE
  3. SPYHOPPER HONEY BROWN ALE
  4. SEA DOG AMBER ALE

Yes, the SEA DOG comes in fourth, but not because it’s bad. It just had tough competition. It’s the most earthy of the bunch, with an herbal hoppiness and lots of malt—very beery, which isn’t a bad thing. It doesn’t clout you with beeriness, but it’s not messing around either. Reddish copper in the glass, it boasts some fine carbonation and good weight—another brew you can pound or sip, depending on your mood. Of the foursome it’s the most punk-ass one and, while none of the four are pretentious, I’d call it the slugger of the bunch: hops, malt, maybe some nuttiness, and there you have it.

The Pod Pack is very good at hitting mainstream popular notes, with each beer offering distinct characteristics. It would go down well with a hockey game, and it wouldn’t embarrass you at a dinner party either. In fact, it’s so drinkable that you could consume its entirety at a dinner party and then embarrass yourself. Ahhh!

For my three nominees, if you don’t have a Pod Pack of your own, you can still be embarrassed. After all, you just got an award from a teddy bear.