Beers under yer belt and all

Ah, deep sigh.

Craft est fini.

I can't spell french because of the beers.

Once you get the idea that beer is pricey, finding a boutique one for $5 seems like an irresistable bargain.

And you'd better accept that I've had a few before you read further, or you'll be disappointed in me, and I couldn't handle the pain.

Craftwerk was somewhat AMAZING. It was a complete frenzy, or as was overheard "a zoo". A zoo of awesome people buying my colleagues and my (mine?) great gears. My cruisey night hanging out at the bar with Hadyn and Tom was wrecked by all this selling of stuff. I didn't even get a chance to yarn away much with our lovely neighbours.

I did drink some freaking "summer" beer, full of special herbs and spices. If there is one thing I can't tolerate it is a beer full of herbs and spices. But something I can tolerate even less is wasting a beer. So I drank the damn thing, and now all I can taste is the freaking herbs and freaking spices (parents back from overseas soon, so swearing must cease).

That sounded evil and witchy.

It was an excellent night, better than anything really. Lots of lovely and interesting people buying and selling and looking-at great stuff.

My mix tape was unspeakably freaky (the one I received), so I'm guessing some Pantera fan somewhere is listening to Toy Love and cursing the evil Wanda.

Hehehehehehhehehehee