Happy Hump Day, you little hot tamales!
Yea, I said “hump day” and “hot tamales.” Listen up, though. You can cringe all you want at my weirdness, but since AI is writing every other god forsaken thing on the interwebs, I figured I'd go completely unhinged so you always know it's me
HERE I AAAAM! And there you are. I hope you’re having a lovely week so far.
Alright, On tap this week (see what I did there) we’ve got your Twin Cities Brewery Guide with 30+ of the local faves, horrible jokes per usual, and a poem I wrote just for you.
Let’s roll!
Local Faves
Your Twin Cities Brewery Guide
How I drank my way toward a public service announcement.
Okay, I didn't drink my way through all 30. I have to pace myself, or I end up with the Dad bod I keep threatening you with. But I did spend an embarrassing number of hours building the most complete Twin Cities brewery guide I've ever seen, because the scene is getting squeezed and I got a little protective about it. That said, I’m absolutely certain I got a detail wrong, or missed someone’s favorite. Please don’t hate me for it. Just send me your recommendation and I’ll add it to the map for Pete’s sake.
There’s 30 on the list so far. One inside a literal grain silo. One built in an 1857 saloon. The one with a comedy club. Plus which ones will let your dog inside versus politely gesture at the patio.
There's also an interactive map, because I'm not a monster.
Enjoy!
xox - Jen
Because terrible puns are a public service
THIS WEEK'S BAD JOKES
🍺 Why did the beer go to therapy? It couldn't get over its bottled-up emotions.
🍺 I asked the bartender for something cold and hard to drink. He handed me an ice cube.
🍺 What do you call a sad brewery? A teardrop ale.
And now for a special (and rare) poem.
Roses are red
Violets are blue
This week’s going to hotter than a pottery kiln, and your face might melt while you walk to your car, and if you have leather seats don’t forget they’ll torch your tush, and I’m sorry I don’t make the rules.
Anyway. Deodorant.
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