We’re totally wasted right now. Stop laughing, we’re serious. Okay, what were we saying? Seriously, though—seriously. Listen.

Rogue is the shit. No, it is, just hear us out. We just drank, like, five of those little taster trays. No, not five tasters—five trays of tasters. It’s, like, impossible to stop, you know? There are just so many: there’s Dead Guy—the really famous one that’s all hoppy and alcoholic; there’s Chocolate Stout—that’s all hoppy and alcoholic; there’s Independence—that’s all hoppy and alcoholic, too. Hey, shut up, we remember everything we had. We just don’t remember what was what.

Or maybe it wasn’t the beer that got us so sauced; ‘cause now we’re remembering we had some Rogue spirits, too. A shot of dark rum, which was hoppy and alcoholic. Nah, just kidding. It was strong, though, and thick like molasses. We had white rum, too, but it tasted like vodka—was it vodka? No, it was rum, but don’t drink it by itself. Yecch!

Oh yeah, we ate…something. It was maybe soup. Or cheese. Cheese soup. Beer cheese soup, that was it! Yeah, it was okay. We think. Hey why are you asking so many questions, anyway? We know we had a burger, that’s for sure. That was good. And they’re made with, like, Kobe beef from some good farm or another. Hey, Kobe’s a big deal, which is why Rogue lets you know it’s Kobe, even though it’s not from Kobe, Japan and the burger isn’t really that great anyway.

We always come with a big group, and it feels like we’re in an English pub, with all the wood and stuff. We mostly come for birthdays, or when somebody got dumped or fired or anything else we don’t want to remember the next day. The girls that work here are pretty hot, but don’t piss them off. They’re total pros, which you’d have to be, serving (mostly) dudes this high-octane brew all night long. It gets you wasted enough to make all kinds of bad decisions, like bruschetta. What the hell makes a person order bruschetta in a place like this? It’s stale bread topped with watery tomatoes and salt. Stuff like this drives us to drink. Another Dead Guy, please. Actually, make it a Double Dead Guy.