Who's sex is on fire?
Belgian drafts served by hambones.
Cigarette butt toss.
The first line is in reference to Ballantine's theme song by Kings of Leon. At one point, the song was played twice in the span of 10 minutes. If this song is on heaven's playlist, I'd rather burn in hell. The rest of the tunes didn't impress either. Progressively through the night they actually got worse until eventually morphing into a soundtrack more appropriate for a gay dance club than a brewpub.
The second line refers to the staff. I just expected the bartenders to offer a little more knowledge and expertize about the extensive craft beer offerings. Instead, the bartenders appeared to be imported from BW3's.
The third and final line is in reference to a near fatal encounter of friendly fire upon leaving Ballantine. Outside, droves of chain smokers catch a buzz. One drunken blonde in particular chose my leg as target practice. My last memory was a glowing ember of carcinogenic proportions heading straight towards my denim covered half. It was unavoidable. I was a casualty. Ouch.