It's pretty bizarre how I was pulled into such a geekster carnival. It was Halloween weekend. My sister works as events manager for a game developer's magazine, so she got invited to this party at an Oakland warehouse where a couple of the concept artists call home. I mean an in-the-middle-of-nowhere-crime-scene-body-dumpsite kinda place. Anthony Hopkins would gladly feast on your kidneys in such a warehouse. Angelina Jolie would have naked rainy lesbian knife fights here. But there were huge gratuitous and doubtless very illegal fires on the premise so that was enough to make me stay. As my sister ran her gauntlet of networking conversations, I somehow ended up being kegman for a bit and talking to game developers who want to roam the American roads and one day become pre-Fear And Loathing Hunter S. Thompson. Pretty awesome stuff. Though it was totally unrelated to Berkeley, it was strangely enough one of the most 'Berkeley' experiences I had there.
My sister's coworkers. I had to help them kick apart a wooden scaffolding to help fuel the bonfires. Besides sipping Pabst Blue Ribbons, they were really good at tearing apart wooden crates. Pretty cool people (PBR notwithstanding).
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wtf is that beer?
Pabst Blue Ribbon -- a working class Oregon beer... until hipsters decided it was the most indie beer ever.
Kinda like how Japanese people suddenly decided that O-toro is OMFGPWNZORZ instead of standard lunch meat?
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