A mysterious beer.

This weekend involved me going up to Bellingham to a) get fitted for a tuxedo for Andrew's wedding and b) watch Andrew get drunk on his birthday. The tuxedo fitting went well as I'm pleased with the style and colors we groomsmen are wearing. I did see some interesting cufflinks there, such as one pair that was styled after football helmets. They did have a cane that looked like something out of a Gene Kelly film which I really wanted, but I don't think it would be appropriate for the nuptials. It would even be cooler with a tophat.

I think when (if) I get married I want to dress my groomsmen in completely inappropriate attire. The best man will be wearing a muscle shirt along with hammer pants. The next groomsman will be donned in parachute pants and will have fingerless leather gloves. The ringbearer will have a members only jacket and moon boots.

After the fitting Kyle, Jason, Holly, Shelby, Jessica, Andrew, and I had pizza and beer at Andrew's place. For my birthday Andrew picked me up a bottle of beer. This beer was interesting in the fact that it came in a gray ceramic bottle and it had a bizzare name, one that eludes me now. Andrew claimed I bought a bottle for him years ago and that I loved it so he thought it would be a great idea to get me one. I have no recollection of this event and swore up and down that it never took place. He thought otherwise and proceeded to tell me about the when and where's of this alleged beer purchase. Starting to doubt my own memory I opened the bottle of beer and poured myself a glass. I sipped a taste of the beverage to which I found a close resemblance to Mickey's. It was the nastiest beer I've had in a long time. I'm still sticking with my story that it never happened.

After playing some games, eating birthday cake, drunk dialing old friends, and threats of nudity I decided I should take my leave and visit the folks, who had my nephews up for a visit. I walked into the place where mom told me the boys were excited to see me. I went to talk to them and Gabe walked up with a timid look and asked, "Uncle Erik can we go to Tube Time?"

"No Gabe. Tube Time's closed," I said.

"Oh," he frowned. He really looked sad at this news. "Can we go tomorrow?"

"Yes Gabe, but only if you and your brother behave yourselves."

Gabe ran and snatched his brother Corbyn and demanded that he promise to be good so they could go to Tube Time. Corbyn promised he would watch his behavior, which made me think if there was a time they ever said "no we won't be good boys, but we want to go anyways." After playing a game of Old Maid and reading them a bedtime story they finally hit the hay. The next day we went to Tube Time as promised and slid down the often waxed slide. A fun time was had by all.

"If I were wearing a tuxedo I'd want to wear it with satin Converse sneakers. I'd want my tuxedo to be shrunken and ill-fitting, so I'd look like one of the John Holmstrom cartoons from Punk magazine. It's the idea of imperfection, of being awkward." - Marc Jacobs