In - blog - ural Post

This is the inaugural post of my blog! I don't know if that was evident by the fact that there is probably a number (1) on it somewhere, or that until I put up a new one it will be the only one, or by the cleverly rendered title (clever!), so I thought I would point it out. Subtlety is not my strong point. A good writer would have implied that.

The purpose of this blog is to share my love of beer and brewing and such things with the wide world of my readers. This world will be minimally populated with roving hipster vigilantes and the onetime curious, as well as people who are converted from the onetime to the manytime curious, and eventually into loyal and diehard readers. Once this level has been reached, I will request tasks be done. Beware!

I am drinking a 471 Small Batch Double Hopped IPA from Breckenridge Brewery (one of my consistent favorite breweries, of late--Pandora's Bock was incredible) as I write this, so bear with me while I stop using grammar and wander down the bright and swirling world of "Grammer". Grammer is like the Yellow Submarine version of grammar. If the blue meanies ended up taking over for good. Grammer happens when one drinks 9.2% ABV beer after a twelve hour workday on an empty stomach. Grammer is a versatile concept. Like "fuck". I'm assuming that we're all adults here, and I can say fuck, by the way. If you're not an adult, then good on you for developing an appreciation for beer that is sophisticated enough that you're reading beer blogs. You get a free pass to read the word fuck.

This blog was precipitated when I combined the dregs of a Colorado School of Mines education with the realization that I hate the Colorado School of Mines, don't really care about making enough money to buy a new truck the year I graduate, and pretty much just care about beer. And world peace. Serious. And maybe cartoons and the wilderness and friends and stuff.

From this nonexplosive combination of circumstances rose the solid form which, when treated with loquaciousness, gave rise to this diatribe.

And so will be chronicled my adventures in making enough money to live by, designing and utilizing an effective homebrewing system, and immersing myself in the rich and malty brewing culture. I have $230.72 in my bank account, a broom closet full of aging bottles, and I hate wearing sunglasses.