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Celiacs Rule

As it turned out, because of changes of plans and so forth, I went by Bierkraft yesterday to pick up my case of Bard's Tale instead of having the beer delivered and so I got a chance to talk to Richard, The Guy Who Seems To Be In Charge over there. Nice guy. Told me some interesting stuff. As I mentioned earlier (United Corpuscular Appeal), Bard's Tale has no distributor. In fact, Richard told me the company had been turned down by two large distributors.

He said that in the beginning, more or less experimentally, he had ordered ten cases from Bard's Tale and, once they'd arrived, he blinked and they were gone. So he ordered 25 more cases which, upon arriving, also flew off the shelves. So he ordered 25 more cases (of which there are only a few left at the moment, one of which I got). And so now he's ordered 25 more.

The last batch was driven down from Albany or Buffalo or somewhere like that in the back of some guy's car. Richard told him that if a distributor didn't pick up Bard's Tale soon, he was thinking of renting warehouse space in Brooklyn and distributing it himself.

Ha! Take that you bastardly, evil, big-shot distributors. Celiacs rule!

Everyone who lives in Brooklyn should patronize Bierkraft. They are good people who take pity on, and are happy to make money off, gimps like me. And not only that, the people who work there are kind of cute.

Not that that matters, of course.


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Bierkraft rocks. I mourn that we no longer live right around the corner from it. (Still, only a mile and a half away or so.)

Jeez, I didn't even know you'd moved. I guess I should start paying attention. Fortunately I have friends right near 2nd & 5th who are happy (well... they do it for me, anyway) to serve as my Brooklyn Beer Depot. Which makes the whole project of getting the beer somewhat less inconvenient.

I know I'm obsessing about this beer thing, guys, but I can't tell you (yes, I can) how much it pleases me to find, after all this time, a beer that both looks and tastes nice and krafty, and is one that I can actually drink.

I'm so happy you got your beer. Life's small pleasures are very important -- when you get deprived of one. When I'm off the pain meds, I'll lift a glass in their honor.

You're kinda cute yourself. Not that that matters, of course.


Yes, and I'm especially cute when I'm likkered up. In case anyone wants to take advantage of, um, that information.

Not that any of this matters, of course.

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