Victory Barkeep Shocker

Reaction of Victory Brewing Co. bartender when  my visiting-from-Texas brother pointed out that she had been included in a snapshot of the Victory Growler Filler on Feed The Ogre soon after Victory reopened in May.

[sincerest apologies to the barkeep for the unflattering and/or lack of likeness of this illustration! that's just how i roll my Pentel e-Sharp mechanical pencil.]

Living with disappointment

Have you ever been yearning for a specific flavor of ice cream or anything and then when you finally get it, it's just doesn't live up to your expectations? That usually happens when I come across an ice cream place that makes Butter Brickle.

The freshest, bestest, creamiest Butter Brickle will always live in my memories from The Guernsey Cow in Exton PA. The second best was at the Yum Yum Affair in Sea Isle, NJ.

At The Cow, we had big 10 or 15 gallon drums filled to the brim with brickles -- essentially the broken up hard toffee center of a Heath bar without the chocolate coating. When I worked there I would take a Butter Brickle break after a mad rush like we'd experience when a tourist bus would show up or the fireworks at the Exton Mall would let out on the 4th of July.

I'd scoop a small bowl and head into the deep freezer where we kept the five-gallon cardboard bulk ice cream containers stacked. Then I'd open up a brickle drum and garnish my ice cream with a healthy helping of fresh crunchy brickles. In the heat of summer, sitting in the deep freezer after a mad rush for a quick respite was all you needed to keep going for the rest of the night.

When you can get Butter Brickle ice cream today, in most instances, the brickles have sat in the ice cream for so long -- or sat too long before the ice cream was frozen solid -- and they turn out to be squishy chewy bits of nothing. It's probably the reason not too many places make it anymore. 

There's got to be a morning after

My friend ponders the folly of staying up all night on a sticky note.

Delighted to find a half hour of time to throw a few layers together of this guy I had lunch with today at McKenzie Brewhouse in Frazer, PA. He's a talker but I never hear what he's saying. I only see those teeth going up and down and makes me feel like I'm in prison or behind one of those medieval gates that close before you get to the drawbridge to get out of the castle.

Coffee Stain Alien Flipper Boy

When I was growing up, there was a boy who showed up one day for football tryouts. He had big hollowed-out eyes the color of coffee stains and flippers for hands. He didn't make the team and neither did I.

We commiserated but didn't become friends. I could never get over his coffee hollow stare and the slimy fishy smell of his flipper hands.

Conference Call Tribal Head & Shoulders

Worked on this while on a conference call today. Probably inspired by my upcoming reunion with my Africa-traveling friend at this weekend's 2008 YAB Conference.

Coffee Stain Boy

Found the right coffee stain from my mug on the notepad for this lad's hair. The result kind of reminds me of my red-headed brother when he was a kid.