Tonight, after a day full of grocery shopping and eating, Cole, Casey and I took a trip down to the Astoria Beer Garden at Bohemian Hall. I'd only heard of this place before tonight from many people who frequent this heavenly establishment. Picture this: A walled-in New York City park with about a hundred picnic tables and hundreds of people drinking pitchers of beer, smoking cigarettes and having a good time. We had pitchers of Spaten Oktoberfest, Stella Artois, this great Czech beer that none of us know the name of and the unholiest of unholy beers, Hoegaarden. Cole compared it to drinking "cinnamon flavored hot dog water." It was terrible.

As the night progressed, Phil, Steve and Adrian met up with us and Casey won a flip-cup game against "Jim from Connecticut." Then, for some reason, a bunch of drunk, fat, neo-nazi's started fighting in the garden. It all started when one of them said, "You should've been burned in an oven." That's about the point where I sobered up.

Good night.