Today was Dogfish Day. January 27, 2010. Dogfish days come every few months and they always follow Dogfish nights. Night = amazing, Day = horrific. I should explain what I'm talking about now, so you can follow along. Dogfish Head 90 Minute IPA. It's my favorite beer, and I like to pass along it's hoppy greatness to my friends (e.g., Tal Tal, whose nickname does not adequately convey her level of maturity). The label says it contains 9% alcohol. I am going to petition that below this, they should indicate in large, YELLOW caution letters that 9% alcohol means you lose 91% of your ability to function normally. This is where my blog photo comes in. I'm sure you were wondering why I posted a picture of two Asian girls covered in mud. This would be perfectly normal given the fact that I am not Asian, and I don't like taking mud baths. Let me educate you...I included it to provide support for my 91% theory. Go ahead, Google "Dogfish Head 90 Minute IPA." The Asian girl mud bath picture will pop up on the first page...
So, now that I've effectively supported my petition for a label amendment, I'll continue. Last night was definitely a Dogfish Night. I bought some of this liquid beauty at Greenlife for Tal Tal as a surprise. For some reason, being at Greenlife puts me in a giving mood. Maybe it's because I would love to give all of the people that shop there some shampoo...or some clothes that match...or some deodorant...or some normality. Greenlife shoppers are evidence for my "trying not to be cool because you think it's cool" theory, but that's a whole other blog...but anyway, I bought the beer in my Nike jacket, which I'm sure is about as popular as asking for plastic bags at Greenlife, and I headed home smiling thinking about brightening Tal Tal's world.
In retrospect, I should have allowed my giving mood to be selfless. Instead, immigrating to the real world (i.e., being exiled from Greenlife) made me selfish again. I opened the Dogfish before Talia even got to the house. Poor life decision. What followed was typical...more Dogfish, going downtown at 10 to the Bier Garden, more Dogfish, shit-talking in Cornhole, acting ridiculous, more Dogfish, acting more ridiculous, and then.............
MORNING (i.e., Dogfish Day). The alarm went off and I had the familiar Dogfish feeling...death. Then, I had the familiar Dogfish thought..."how did I get here?" Then, I performed the familiar Dogfish action...call into work sick. Shame on me. Shame on my selfishness. Shame on Dogfish Head for not telling the truth on their labels.
I will say, though, that even though Dogfish days suck worse than our Big South record, Dogfish nights have a lot to offer. So much, in fact, that I think I'll go ahead and add them to my 2010 calendar. This means Tal Tal will have to Trek to Athens a few times after April :) Goodnight to January Dogfish Day. The Mayor will be happy to see my face tomorrow.
