Look, we all know that I love stories and drinking. This is no secret to anyone who’s ever spoken to me for more than a minute. So naturally, I’ve got another article on the topic that’s now live over at Quirk Books. Think of this as a kind of companion piece to my How To Drink Like Your Favorite Writer and A Guide To Pairing Your Comic Books and Beer posts. You liked those, right? Of course you did.
Continuing in my established tradition from the Mass Brewer’s Fest and last year’s Winter Beer Jubilee, I present for you the latest installment of Haiku Beer Review, compiled at the 2012 Winter Beer Summit. I make tasting notes into my phone as the night goes on, so that I can turn them into haikus when I get home (and eventually sober up). I know, I know, I’m a genius, it’s true. Anyway, enjoy!
(Also, thanks to Dig Boston for the free tickets and for putting up with my whining. #thomdunnwantsbeer)
Drinking! Family! Revelry! Tryptophan! All the things that make Thanksgiving such a wonderful holiday! But then — what comes after? The barren wasteland full of angry zombies, near-comatose after having gorged on too much flesh and blood. So basically, after dinner time, Thanksgiving becomes kind of a post-apocalyptic landscape, the kind you see in Zombie films or Mad Max.
You can figure out where this is going, can’t you?
In a tradition that began back in January at the Winter Beer Jubilee in Boston, I recently posted the second iteration of my “Haiku Beer Review” series, which is precisely what it sounds like — beer reviews, in haiku form (I also try to tweet Haiku Beer Reviews whenever I try a new brew at a bar). These reviews began as voice memos that were taken by my friends and I at the Mass Brewer’s Fest at the Seaport World Trade Center in Boston on September 2, 2011, but I only just got around to compiling the voice memos and turning them into haikus. Anyway, if you like beer and/or poetry and/or drinking, I’d advise you check it out (along with, hopefully, some new beers)!
You know that friend who you always see at parties and when you’re both drunk s/he is totally your best friend and you talk about everything, but then when you’re sober and back in the real world, it’s awkward because you’re not really actually friends and you don’t hang out or anything and then you see him/her on the street and it’s totally weird?
Yeah. You know the one.
Today on FiveByFiveHundred.com, I share my own story of my favorite drinking buddy from the local pub who I don’t actually know. His name is Paul.
Alright, so my commitment to posting a new cover song every 2 weeks has fallen behind. I’ve been recovering from a sinus infection, which of course has rendered me unable to sing.
But serendipity shined its smiling Irish eyes on me, and I was able to finish just in time for the Feast of Saint Patrick (one of my personal favorite holidays). This entry into the Song of the (Bi-)Week series is a cover of “Streams of Whiskey” by the Irish rock group The Pogues. This song pays homage to two of my favorite things: drinking whiskey, and Irish playwright/author Brendan Behan, who is also the namesake of my favorite local pub (where I often enjoy drinking whiskey). The original song is an sloppy, upbeat drinking song in 4/4 time; my version follows more in the tradition of Americana, complete with plenty of lap steel guitar, and converts the meter to 3/4 time.
Enjoy, and have yourselves a wonderful St. Patrick’s Day!
My fellow Emerson alum are all too aware that the ATM is possibly the greatest invention ever. This week, over at FiveByFiveHundred.com, my newest piece of speculative flash-fiction explores the future of the ATM, and the possible ramifications of artificial intelligence as it spreads to more pedestrian technologies.
Also, because sassy robots are just plain funny. And that’s what really matters. Enjoy!
- Automatic Teller Man at FiveByFiveHundred.com
Every Wednesday, literary blog The Things They Read has a feature called Where We Live that focuses on, “the different places that writers and readers live, in a deeper sense than simply geography — the mental and emotional space they inhabit during their creative lives.” This week’s article is by yours truly, and explores the Brendan Behan Pub in Jamaica Plain, one of my personal favorite bars in the entire universe, and the lost art (in America) of pub writing. Take a look, have a pint, and enjoy!