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Highlights from the International Beer Festival

original print date, March 14 2005

                Paul Ryan

I was at the International Beer Festival in Peoria, IL Thursday through Sunday. There were almost too many highlights to remember, but here's a few big ones:

- Best beer: Coniston Bluebird Bitter (England). Worst beer: Mountain Dew Brew (Peoria, IL). Honorable mention: O'Fallon Cherry Chocolate (Missouri), La Choulette Framboise (France), everything at BluCreek Brewery (Wisconsin). Bluebird Bitter was the perfect beer. It had the right balance of flavor that so many expensive beers lack, and was light enough to be abused for quality drunkeness. Mountain Dew Brew, on the other hand, was like urine mixed with other, worse-tasting urine.

- Coolest guy ever! We saw the coolest guy in history at the beer festival. He was wearing a leather jacket like the Fonz, and was hanging out near the women's restroom smoking Kools. I'll bet he picked up tons of chicks. I mean, really, what lady wouldn't go for a winner who tries to pick up women right after they get done using the toilet? The runner-up for coolest guy ever was this guy wearing a leather Jagermeister jacket. He would have won if the jacket glowed in the dark. And if the guy had been smoking Kool's by the women's restroom.

- Buzzkill beardo. The bearded guy at the mead table (White Winter Winery, Wisconsin) was a total dick. He was all stingy with the mead, refusing to give us a full 4 ounce glass of it. He'd only pour two ounces. What a chauncey douchelicker. Don't ever drink his wine. It will totally give you herpes.

- Who wants some teabags? CJ, Hoj, and myself used the word "teabagging" approximately 1,402 times during the trip, and not a single use of it was referring to the bags used to make tea. So our trip was kind of like camp for 10-year-olds. Speaking of tea, you know who likes teabags? Your grandmother. I hear she pays good money to get teabagged. I might go teabag your grandmother myself one of these days.

- Retro like your mom. "Your mom" jokes were also brought back into the mainstream on this trip. "Your mom" jokes are so old that have apparently become new again. So anyone who said something that left themselves wide open (wide open like your mom) was immediately hit with a "your mom" joke.

- My back hurts. Note: sleeping on the floor with only a sleeping bag is okay for one night. But doing so for three nights straight will ensure you only get two hours of sleep a night. Even if you're wasted.

- Proof of my stupidity: Two of my friends got caught staring at some girl's boobs. Three minutes after they got caught, the girl caught me. I tried to improve the situation by giving her the thumbs up sign, but she looked away in disgust too quickly. Good thing she didn't catch Hoj holding a camera above his head in an attempt to get an aerial photo of her boobs while walking past her. A move which was awesome, by the way. But honestly, I don't know why she rolled her eyes at us. Her breasts were practically flopping out of her shirt. It was like they were trying to escape by climbing the short fence that was the neckline of her shirt. She obviously wanted to be noticed. Ladies, if you show cleavage, don't get annoyed when guys notice. Also, if you're showing cleavage at a freaking beer festival where the crowd is 95% men, you're an idiot who deserves to have aerial photos taken of your boobs.

- It's true. Hoj got a handjob from some dude. He went up to the beer ticket table with one dollar to buy two tickets, and he came back with four tickets. As CJ said, "Hoj totally put his balls in some dude's mouth to get that."

- Games I hate, part 1. I suck at euchre. And I'm glad I suck at euchre, because only child molesters and fat window lickers play euchre.

- Lardass on a t-shirt. We're going to make a t-shirt out of this picture we took of some horrendously fat guy sleeping in a folding chair. His face looked like someone sat on it and farted. It's going to be an awesome shirt.

- The restaurant, part 1. High school girls who are hostesses at restaurants are fun. When you flirt with them, they don't know how to handle the embarrassment, and they get so red in the face and smile so deliriously big that it looks like their head is going to explode.

- The restaurant, part 2. If you turn off the lights in the bathroom while CJ is using the urinal, it is exponentially more funny if a stranger is also on the toilet. That way, not only will CJ risk peeing all over the floor, but he'll also have to apologize to the dude in the stall for his friend's stupidity.

- Games I hate, part 2. I suck at multi-player Tetris Worlds. And I'm glad I suck at multi-player Tetris Worlds, because only child molesters and fat window lickers play multi-player Tetris Worlds.

- This just in. It has been decided that if your mouth is known as your "pie hole", then your ass should be known as your "hot dish". Other terms up for consideration included "reverse pie hole", "pie exit", and "purge hole".

- Old and busted: Tang. New hotness: Propel. Cj and Steve like to drink Propel, a drink which is also used by gay astronauts to lubricate themselves before performing anal sex in space. Or I mean reverse pie hole sex. Wait, what phrase did we decide on? Crap.

- Home sweet home. Jeff was nice enough to let us crash at his apartment in Peoria all three nights of the trip, which almost makes me sorry that I shot man goo inside his bottle of Dove moisturizing body wash. Protein is protein, Jeff.

- Games I don't hate. In NHL hockey, it is possible to get 319 checks in one game when there's five drunk guys playing on the same team using a multi-tap adapter.

- PSA: CJ would like me to mention, as a public service announcement, that the average American doesn't get enough fiber. But CJ does, because he eats a Metamucil bar every day. Apparently, CJ's wife doesn't mind that her husband's colon works like a greased waterslide instead of a hot fudge dispenser.

- Cologne is awesome! While driving through Wisconsin, we stopped at a gas station/truck stop. In the restroom of said truck stop, there was a cologne dispenser. You put in a quarter, chose your knock-off cologne, and then pushed the plunger to get it sprayed into your hand. Unfortunately, the machine had a tendency to spray cologne everywhere, and lots of it. Both CJ and I tried it, and we reeked so bad that for an hour on the way home, we had to keep rolling down the windows to keep from puking because of the smell. At a few points, the smell of Polo Sport was so bad in the car that my eyes were watering.

- Wiggers get the deuce. During the drive home, Cj gave the finger to some wigger kid in Peoria who was sitting on his front steps listening to music with oversized headphones. The funny part was that a few miles back, when we stopped for gas, I wrote "dong" on CJ's car door with an arrow pointing to the window. So instead of the kid just seeing some asshole give him the finger, he saw someone designated as a "dong" giving him the finger. I wonder how that felt.


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