A long time ago, in a neighborhood far, far away from where I live now, I used to drink myself into a drunken distortion of truth. I was able to tap into the magnificent forces of the ‘drunk.’ A power that is somehow able to teleport you from the barstool to your bed or hopefully someone else’s before you even knew you wanted to go there.

 So I’m not going to describe the circumstances that led me to drinking at Trios Enoteca on Wynkoop the other night. However, so that you can understand why, the occasion began as a simple opening of an old wound, which of course Papa Sobriety can handle. However, this particular occasion took more the form of a civil war surgery gone awry as still tender scar tissue was bludgeoned through with, I don’t know, let’s says a meat tenderizer. Upon the tenderizer breaching the nigh developed covering one would be tempted to examine with sadistic fascination the well crafted hooks and barbs that played like annelids chewing vermiculated patterns into the flesh while excreting salted feces in their wake. The wound that evening was then covered back over with a tender whisper that held only the promise of future incursions.ON THE BRIGHT SIDE, I'm drinking a lot more. And when I'm drinking the beer blog is productive, and if the beer blog is productive, you the reader are better informed so as to conquer Denver's bar scene.

I haven't drank as much as I might like at the Thin Man, and admittedly I've spent a lot more time at St. Mark's Coffee shop with which they share a kitchen, however, I'll say that I like it. And I like it to the degree that anytime I'm up that direction I might even stop by just to see the single, attractive, successful 30 somethings tie one on after work. If you stop by it is even likely that I might be one of them-- minus the successful and good looking part, but in case any of you ladies are interested I am 30 something and single.