I've been a good boy whilst away. Writing stuff up as I go. Here's a preview of my birthday day.
Is it already 5 days I've been here?
I rise late. Fuck it. I've been up at 7:45 every day. And spent 8 hours judging beers. Not drinking. You actually drink bugger all while judging. Well, most people do. When I get one I like, I finish the bastard off. It's only going to get thrown down the sink otherwise.
It's noon by the time I troll up. Kristen has already started his talk on Stout. He notices me walk in and does his best to embarrass me. "We thought you might be dead."
He flicks back to a slide with a picture of me with an eye patch photoshopped on. The gets everyone to sing happy birthday. It is my birthday, but it's still pretty weird. At least I have a beer in my hand. A very nice mosaic IPA. Things could be worse.
I'm tempted to shout comments out a couple of times, but manage to restrain myself. I'm talking later. And I know what a vindictive bastard Kristen is.