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| Lake Tahoe. A destination of spacious ski resorts, vacation nightlife, unexposed wilderness, and most importantly, exposed women. How do we know this?
Because Lake Tahoe has Pabst Blue Ribbon. For a dollar. First things first: we sent the incorrigable Preston Seider up to Lake Tahoe last weekend to check out the scene for himself. Here's his report. -- The Paper Bag Review I hopped in my blue Pimpterra with nothing but a change of clothes, a torn road map, and an air of superiority. Interstate 5 took me 7 hours north of Los Angeles to the lake, and I arrived at two in the morning. Ten relaxing hours sleeping in the back of my vehicle, and I was good to go. Describing the majestic beauty of Lake Tahoe without getting emotional is a futile exercise. Lively and energetic, yet seemingly untouched by mankind, it's the perfect resort: a paradox of abundant nature and happening nightspots. Now, I must use the term 'nightspots' with a bit of caution: your choices are either the Vegas-style casinos (Lake Tahoe is divided down the middle by the California/Nevada border. The instant you reach Nevada, the swill and gambling underground appear), or local bars overrun by seasonal workers and tourists. The seasonal workers, however, are damn cool. My journey was tame until I reached a roadside tavern named Hoss Hoggs. Seemingly an unassuming place until I wandered inside and learned about the Friday night special: One dollar Pabst Blue Ribbon drafts. Pabst Blue Ribbon for $1.  
A blue-ribbon winning beer for one freaking dollar! As much as I hate exclamation points, the necessity is finally here. I spent the night carousing, caroling, and canoodling with possibly hundreds of Lake Tahoe faithful, who knew me as 'Preston Seider, Internet Superstar' by trade, but to them I was just a man. A man who likes a good beer, an easy woman, and another beer. I'd like to ramble on a bit about my trip up to the ski resort, or my brisk jog along the lake the next morning, but I can't lie to anyone. My remaining time in Lake Tahoe was spent nursing a PBR hangover -- not a sickness, per se, but more of a longing for times of yore. Good play, Lake Tahoe, you old dog. Good play. Speaking of easy women...Aspen, if you're there, email me baby. I know it wasn't just the Pabst talking. |
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