Sunday, May 01, 2011
Notes from Dark Lord Day
This weekend a few coworkers and I ventured through Indiana to the thriving metropolis of Munster, to attend Dark Lord Day at Three Floyd's Brewery. Dark Lord Day is the only day of the year that this beer is sold, so the brewery has made an event out of it. Do I have thoughts and observations about the trip? You bet I do!

-Do you like flat? If so, do yourself a favor sometime and drive almost all the way through Indiana. Indiana is so flat it would give Russ Meyer nightmares.

-For some reason, Google Maps took us off the highway for a detour through Gary, Indiana. Gary is, for lack of a better word, a shithole. So prevalent were the boarded-up buildings, so complete was the squalor, that the place looked post-Apocalyptic. Remember the famous quote by Chris Rock about the irony of violent streets being named after the peaceful Martin Luther King, Jr.? Well, Gary has TWO streets named after MLK, because the violence couldn't be contained by just one.

It turns out that we didn't need to get off the highway at all. I think Google Maps is in cahoots with the Gary Visitors Bureau (it's the building that hasn't been condemned), because that is the only way anyone would ride through the town.

-I stood in line a lot at Dark Lord Day. There were lines for beer, food, bathrooms, and t-shirts. I didn't have to stand in line for a t-shirt, though, because a friend of ours used her feminine wiles big boobs to get us to the front.

-I didn't really mind waiting in line for the beer, which was excellent. I recommend Three Floyd's Zombie Dust IPA if you can find it anywhere.

-After not eating all day, Langel's Pizza became the best pizza on the face of the Earth.

-I discovered a cure for my insomnia: start drinking at 11am. I was fast asleep by 9pm Central Daylight Time.

-The complimentary coffee at the Residence Inn in Hammond is BRUTAL. I actually tasted notes of unfathomable sadness, like the coffee beans were roasted in a child's coffin and filtered through a Holocaust Cloak.

-On the way back home, at a rest stop in the "lovely" city of Whiteland, Indiana, I saw a teenage male wearing a shirt that read Down to Fuck. It must have been his good Sunday shirt. His parents should be Down to Put a Foot Up His Ass.

-Had a great time on the trip, but I want to go back to Three Floyd's Brewery when I can sit leisurely in the brewpub and drink a few of their delicious beers in relative quiet.


Blogger pepper! said...

i just think you should know i went to a "roast" recently and you're much funnier.

Blogger Susie Carroll said...

I have two Gary-related comments. One, I worked for a national low-income housing nonprofit in the 1990's. We went into the worst neighborhoods of any city in the entire country. One of our directors referred to Gary as the "stenchy armpit of the Midwest." And he would know.

Two, I had to bail someone out of jail in Gary once (DUI) and got to see a Gary prostitute in person. She was on the pay phone at the police station, wearing a silver tube dress and hacking at her very itchy private parts with her Lee press-on nails. She was bursting out of her tube.

How was the Dark Lord bro?

Blogger I Wear Flops said...

I had a boss once that referred to every black person as "Gary".. for the longest time I thought 4 guys on my team were named Gary.

Apparently though it was just because my boss went to Gary one time and said he had never felt so out of place because of his skin color.

Also, FYI, Bing Maps and Directions are much better in my area, give it a try.

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