Tucson is an interesting town. I immediately got a sense of the local color here, which is beige. All color in Arizona, local or otherwise, is some derivative of beige. Upon pulling into town I was greeted by a man yelling out of his car window, “Pick a lane, asshole!” and I thought, “Wow, I’m home.”

This post is over two years in the making, but only because I just learned how to use Word. It took longer for Bald Tony and I to complete this arduous Irish/Vegas pubcrawl than it took Frodo and Sam to journey to Mordor. Granted, we would have remained at the Green Dragon until the orcs razed the place, but, who knows, maybe Sauron would have kept us on as Middle-Earth beer tasters? Meet the new boss, same as the old boss. Yes Mr. Winslow, I just compared you to a dark sorcerer, but in a good way…really. Oh, on that note, I’ve just released a Nazgul toward Barad dur with our receipts.

For my last trip to Vegas, I decided to look beyond the flashing and blinking lights of Sin City and really rate this town.  Sorry, the blinking lights of Vegas are about as close to Christmas as you’re going to get here at the Discord.  The biggest hurdle to my destination came in the form of a brewpub, the Boiler Room, in Laughlin, Nevada.  This pub, constructed like the bowels of a giant ship, had a sign out front that read: Thirsty Thursdays: All Drafts 1 Dollar.  It happened to be Thursday and I was, in fact, thirsty.  Hmmmm.  I opened my wallet and implemented an old college equation.  A dollar a beer, so if I have eighty-dollars in my wallet…then that means I have…er, carry the one…a shit load of beer!