Fuck. I wake up to rolling thunder, which means the East Atlanta beer festival may be less than pleasant. I turn on the computer and compulsively refresh the weather every five seconds. Looks like this might be a go after all.

Running late. Of course the Downtown Congester is packed with Maryland farmers driving five miles per hour.

I get to the gate a few minutes after opening and greet an undisclosed recurring Prizzo Skeezy reader. I pay twenty five ducats and an anonymous festival volunteer issues me an insultingly small glass. This will be my last East Atlanta Beer Festival.

More rain. I take shelter under the Old Savannah Brewing Company tent. Their name is nothing but lies, as they have been in business only a year and the beer is brewed in China. Ghost Ale is rather dull and flavorless. In contrast, their Pale Ale is respectable. Geoff wanders by and stops for a drink.

Eventually precipitation stops and I find my favorite brewery from South Carolina, Thomas Creek Beer. The sales manager complimented my shirt (yes, the one with mythical animals prominently displayed) and I struck up a conversation. Throughout the festival I stopped by for tasty Thomas Creek Beer, particularly the Amber, and to chat. I would have requested a number, but South Carolina is OTP - making her geographically undesirable.

During the afternoon, recurring Prizzo Skeezy character The Professor joins me. We drink plenty of beer and piss on the side of an old boarded up school. Portable johns were another amenity the organizers skimped on. The festival ends and The Professor and I head east to our next mind blowing adventure.