Just a well-deserved tip of the hat to Scoats, the main man, the event genius, the number-crunching funster, the Coyote of Bar Promotions. Thanks to him, I got up this morning, Friday the Thirteenth, and had no ominous thoughts of bad luck or bad things happening (even after I saw the airplane tragedy in New York) because of the date.
Instead, all I could think of in connection to the calendar was cask ale, pouring from bar-stacked firkins, because today is, and has become, Friday the Firkinteenth. It's a much better tradition overall. Thanks, Scoats!