27 January 2011

Looking for Winterfest Tickets? We've Got a Pair to Give Away

Winterfest ticket sales closed Tuesday evening, when the event officially reached Sold Out status. This means there are no more tickets to be had - not online, not at the door, and not by emailing Jason or Hoosier Beer Geek and begging for a favor. There are no more tickets to be had.

Except for the pair we're about to give away.

Since the sellout we've been monitoring our mailbox and craigslist, watching to see how much leftover demand there is. Craigslist has been particularly entertaining..


Need winterfest tickets, offering a nice trade. - $1 (North Indy)

Date: 2011-01-27, 12:16AM EST

Reply to: sale-brr6r-2182448363@craigslist.org [Errors when replying to ads?]

Maybe your tired after a long day, maybe your 7 pints of hopslam into your night and wanting to do nothing more than sleep? I'll come over and sexually satisfy your lady in trade for two tickets to winterfest.. I'd like to keep this discreet as my g/f would not be hip to the fact I'm willing to pimp myself out so she can get piss hammered on razz wheat or sunking cream ale. In exchange for two tickets I'll please your lady sexually and leave two 750ml bottles of dogfishhead squall under your pillow, maybe a growler of grapefruit jungle if you have VIP tickets. I am disease free and drug free aside from random one hitters of o.g kush. Beer!

Or perhaps even better..


I will give my first born son for winterfest tickets - $1 (Indianapolis)

Date: 2011-01-27, 10:02AM EST
Reply to: sale-egxqt-2182777718@craigslist.org [Errors when replying to ads?]

Like Star Wars? Think Legos are cool? Are you looking for someone to talk to about Greek Mythology with? Do you dig old school Megaman? My boy is in to all this stuff and more. He's 10 years old, has a 9th grade reading level and a ridiculously awesome sense of humor. He's an all around cool kid. That being said, I will give him to anyone with 2 Winterfest tickets! What's the catch? No catch. You give me the tickets, I give you the boy. I'll include his laptop, DS, Wii and about 100lbs of legos. I'll also send him with a gallon of goldfish crackers. I think the kid is cool and all, but I'm totally willing to trade my last 10 and a half years with him for 4 awesome hours of 4 oz. beers.
Or if you just want to sell me some tickets, that would work too.

Hit me up.
So you still need tickets? We can help.

Leave a comment on this post revealing what you'd do for tickets. We don't actually expect you to do anything, we're just in it for the entertainment. Be creative. Make us laugh.

We'll chose our favorite comment Friday (12/28/11) at 5 pm EST, and the winner will receive two (2) General Admission Winterfest tickets. MAKE SURE YOU LEAVE US A METHOD TO CONTACT YOU - email addresses are perfect, or just your name will work. You'll be responsible for checking back to see if you've won, and we can figure the rest out after that.

Creative and long winded entries are particularly appreciated.
We reserve the right to not give you tickets if we think you're shady.
We reserve the right to change all the rules and not award the prize if we don't like how things go.
Don't be a pain in the ass.
If you're an asshole that thinks you'll get into Winterfest on a DD ticket and then proceed to drink beer, know that we've got our eyes open and we will come down hard on your dishonest ass. I hope you like handcuffs and having your name and photo all over the internet.
By participating, entrants agree to be bound by these Official Rules and the decisions of HoosierBeerGeek.com, which shall be final and binding with regard to all matters relating to the contest.


  1. I'll trade mine for a kid that can help me with megaman.

  2. Not true, Gina. I heard that if someone is willing to lick Jason's scrotum, he is sneaking them in. Just sayin' . . .

  3. I would rebuild and manually inflate the old Hoosier Dome

  4. I'm an Indianapolis based attorney... I'll offer free DUI services to the first 3 out of winterfest. I'll also throw in a 5 gallon batch of homebrew to those lucky few, because repeat business is the name of the game.

  5. I'm not going because I spent all my money on brewing supplies.
    but if I could go I would build
    a Giant beer mug out of snow in the parking lot and let all that couldn't get in turn it yellow.
    no stouts or irish Red's please.

  6. I'd make a post on Hoosier Beer Geek about what I'd be willing to do for free tickets.

  7. A haiku:

    I like Winterfest
    Tickets would be very nice
    It is my birthday

  8. Megsaurus (yeah, you know who)January 27, 2011 3:48 PM

    I don't need tickets because I PLANNED AHEAD (not really...I'm working the event, but still). But I want to play too. I'd eat a TAPEWORM for free tickets. Ha.

  9. This comment has been removed by the author.

  10. ** in my best Bob Saget voice **

    Winterfest isn't a drug....I used to suck dick for coke! Now thats an addiction!! ...you ever suck some dick for Winterfest?

    email: toddlbaker at gmail.com

  11. Have you ever seen Trainspotting? I'd drink a giant cup of that toilet water as long as I could chase it down with a 2 oz sample of Cuvee De Sun King!

  12. For a ticket to Winterfest, I would do the unthinkable. Yes, that's right, I would drink a case of Budweiser Chelada, foulest of the foul. But that's not all! I would then collect my Chelada-laden urine in empty growlers, and use it instead of milk on my Lucky Charms in the morning. It's magically delicious! Of course, all of this would grant me superhuman powers, which I would use to go back in time, find the inventor of Chelada, and kick him or her squarely in the junk. I would then convince Sun King to make a superb Chelada clone named "Tomato, Princess of the Clammy Seas", which would win gold at the GABF, and bring fame and notoriety to the Hoosier Beer Geeks, since you were the ones that first introduced me to Chelada! Then we would all take a bus trip to Mexico, where we would seek the origins of Chelada, take peyote, and get lost in the desert. We would be rescued by a nomadic shaman witchdoctor, who would reveal to us the ritual of the bearded clam. We would use this knowledge to open a bikini waxing business in fountain square in the old Deano's Vino building. We would serve nothing but Chelada to our patrons, who would reward us by letting us use their pubic trimmings to restore Jim's hair. And so on and so forth.

  13. Like Dante I would be thrown into the lowest circle of hell, which is being cast on the Maury Povich show of course. Here I would be forced to tell my fiancee that I was cheating on her with a hermaphrodite that looks like Antoine Dodson. After this she would infrom me that everything is fine because she has been running trains at the Wheeler Mission and that I should probably get checked. I would then assend to a higher level of hell where the Rosie O'Donnel show plays on a continuous and I'm responsible for mediating a conversation with her and Charlton Heston, which always ends with the two having make up sex. After my escape from this level I make it last level of hell which is my parets house where after days of conversation God strikes me deaf and places me in purgatory. And this is where I sit, gazing through the gates to the land of milk and honey which takes the form of the fairgrounds and my fellow beer lovers walk happily around tasting the finest ales crafted by the hand of the Messiah. Save me!!!!!


  14. I would be a DD for my boyfriend (and his buddy), so he'd buy me the winemaking kit that I want!

  15. I will gladly interview, drink and make a great video, complete with good, legally licensed music, for HBG to post and do whatever you need to do. My job will also allow for an large amount of exposure of said video to help increase this great site. All I ask is that you pimp my talents. Respectfully sober.

  16. What would I do for Winterfest tickets? Well, for starters, since most things have already been said better by someone else, I'll offer a quote. It is modified slightly to fit our situation, but I think you will understand. 

    (In my best Jimmy Stewart voice from It's A Wonderful Life)

    George Bailey: 
    What is it you want, Hoosier Beer Geeks? What do you want? You want the moon? Just say the word and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down. Hey. That's a pretty good idea. I'll give you the moon, Hoosier Beer Geeks. 

    In addition, I do hereby solemnly swear to spread the gospel of good beer in a manner of utmost respect to my beer-ignorant fellow men and women. I will do my very best to end beer snobbery in any and all ways by me or my immediate circle, while still maintaining the integrity of supporting good, local brews. 

    And finally, my beautiful wife is pregnant with our first child. This is my last Winterfest before baby comes and it is due around the time of the summer festival, so it's doubtful I'll be able to go to that one, let alone next Winter. Also, she feels bad because we usually get tickets through her work, but that didn't happen this year, and we found out too late to purchase. Having said all of that, getting these tickets will make my wife happy, because she knows how much it will mean to me. And having a happy pregnant wife is in itself priceless!

    So I've given a classic quote promising to lasso you the moon, I've vowed to do my part to end beer snobbery, and I've shared how much it will mean to me and my wife. Please, do me this favor and help me make my pregger wife happy by giving me these tickets. 

    Maybe I'll make it's middle name Hoosierbeergeek. William Hoosierbeergeek. Has a nice ring, eh? Ehhhh??


  17. For the fabulous prize, I will recite this Winterfest adapted old joke:

    Why did the first Winterfest attendee fall out of his chair?
    Because he was drunk.
    Why did the second Winterfest attendee fall out of his chair?
    Because he was holding onto the first guy.
    Why did the third Winterfest attendee fall out of his chair?
    He thought it was a game.
    Why did the fourth Winterfest attendee fall out of his chair?
    Peer pressure.

  18. I have specific intelligence of terrorists that have infiltrated the event and wish to rid our country of tasty beer. Were talking suicide belts consisting of wine coolers. By offering me these tickets you will allow me to effectively mitigate this risk and to ensure that we continue to have tasty beer.

  19. Receiving a ticket of this magnitude a mere 28 years into my life, for FREE, would absolutely change my life in ways unimaginable to the run-of-the-mill human brain. But, what’s that you say? You’re giving away TWO?! I was already prepared to swim across the Pacific handcuffed, shackled, and towing more boats than Jack LaLanne had ever SEEN in his 96 years; with a blood alcohol content of .08 (I want to stay within the legal limits, but for two tickets, hell, I’ll make it a .35). For just one ticket, I would have raced Robert Kipkoech Cheruiyot in the Monumental Marathon at night (obviously barefoot), while snowing with a wind chill of -25. For two tickets, I’ll run it backwards, carrying Jon and Kate’s octuplets on my back and I’ll beat him by 6 miles.

    Since these two tickets mean more to me than my hopes and dreams, I’ll give them up. I will quit my job, dump my girlfriend (even though I was going to give her the extra ticket), and burn down my boss’s home. I will scale the new J.W. Marriott building using the little “Baby on Board” suction cups that people used to affix to their rear windows AFTER I build a rocket made out of Marsh shopping carts and fly it to the dark side of the moon. But, am I finished? Oh, no. No I am not. Not even close. This is, after all, two tickets to Winterfest .

    I will bathe in a sea of baby African Mud Turtles for 40 days and 40 nights using Upland Wheat as my shampoo and Sun King Wee Mac as my soap. I will share my shampoo and soap with all of the turtles until we are so cleansed and renewed by the Wee Mac’s nice hazelnut character with rich coffee undertones that we decide to form our own community in the western wheat fields of Nebraska. Our village will consist of living in harmony and harvesting wheat. The turtles will freely export the wheat all over the world and will more than quadruple the U.S.’s gross domestic product within 6 months. What will I be doing while the turtles are turning the Midwest economy into a world-wide powerhouse? Oh, I’ll just be cooking their meals, cleaning up after them, educating them, and providing counseling. Yes, I would spend my life cleaning African Mud Turtle excrement with my bare hands and then, of course, inventing flying cars and hoverboards that run purely on burning, odorless, African Mud Turtle waste. This will bring jobs back to the United States, render China irrelevant in the global economy, and revolutionize common travel. Tired of waiting in the airport security line with your shoes and belt off, searching for a modicum of respect from the A+ security guards? Well, just throw on a pair of sweatpants, hop in your Ford Flyer, and you’re off to Maui in no-time flat! The boost in demand for my Ford Flyer will make Detroit a haven for high-paying, low-stress jobs, thereby spreading a tidal wave of positive vibes throughout states like Ohio, Illinois, and Indiana. Indiana will become Detroit’s sole parts supplier thanks to a few inside tips I give to Mitch Daniels the day before my Flyer is invented and sold to Ford. Indiana will prosper like no state has ever before. It will become rich, but not overcrowded because Detroit will become the destination of choice for the free-riders of the world. When Indiana is rich, I will suggest to Mitch Daniels that every Saturday become “Indiana Beer Fest Day”, which will be an event comparable to the one being held tomorrow, only FREE (not unlike the two tickets I am vying for). I will make Indiana better than ever thought possible. I will be approved for a loan from Old National Bank to purchase every plot of land between Gary and Miami, Florida and then give the land to the state of Indiana. Indiana will have the Indy 500, skiing, surfing, South Beach, and the gorgeous rolling hills of Tennessee. Years later, God will just decide to rename Indiana “Heaven” and everyone in the Hoosier state will live forever. All of this will happen because I want two tickets to the 2011 Brewers of Indiana Guild Winterfest. Also, I’ll ask for them. Please.


  20. The date. June 2nd, 1993. I was seven years old working on my uncle’s farm in Holland, planting tulip bulbs. “If you want that Nancy Drew book collection you keep pissing about you’re gonna have to earn it!” So my father, bless his heart, decided that moving in with Uncle Regis for the summer was a good idea. The days were long and the nights were even longer, as my lodging was a shed near the tulip hopper. My bed consisted of a heap of crusty old towels that Uncle Regis would provide to me weekly from the chest that also contained all his favorite VHS tapes. That entire summer all I could think about was that book collection. If I could only plant these bulbs faster maybe Uncle Regis would write home and tell my father how hard I was working. I would be the envy of everyone in my karate class.
    One night as I was falling asleep, I felt a tickle on my neck. I snapped my head up and looked around. There he was, on my pillow, a snail dressed in a very fashionable suit jacket. His name was Randy. Randy and I became best of friends that summer. I would tell him about the adventures of Nancy Drew and he would share stories of the snail underworld and the tyranny that had forced him from his clan and into exile. It sounded horrible. The evil snail empire had a plan to monopolize the market on snail ale, snails’ only form of nutrition, and Randy was a 6th generation operator of a snail ale microbrewery so he was snuffed out quickly as his family was forced into laboring for the empire. Randy said he needed my help to avenge the evil snails and get his family back. I obliged. We spent the entire summer plotting. We decided that only way to infiltrate the evil snail fortress was to compete in the snail ale competition which was hosted by the empire to improve their monopoly in an effort to steal manufacturing processes. We needed to win that competition, it was the only way. Randy showed me all of the tricks of the trade and after weeks sweat, blood and tears, we finally did it. We developed the perfect snail ale.
    We entered the competition under aliases and Randy had knitted me a snail costume, which fooled everyone. Our concoction, not surprisingly, won the competition. We received an invitation to meet the snail dictator and show him our process. This was our chance. And our plan was simple. But things went horribly wrong. I was able to escape but Randy was not so lucky. After discovering Randy’s true identity they made an example out of him and pebbled him to death in the town square. The empire reigns.
    When I returned home, in honor of Randy, I submitted his snail ale to a local microbrewery in my hometown…changing a few common snail ingredients of course. This is now their secret ale which they have kept fermenting in a secret distillery. This weekend is the unveiling at the Winterfest in Indianapolis. It would be a shame if I wasn’t able to taste the ale that so many snails have perished for. Out of respect to Randy and the entire snail community, could you please let me have these tickets in order to properly say goodbye to my friend? He would have wanted it this way.


  21. I would drink ONLY Natty Ice for a month.

  22. If I win the tickets I will not go public and tell the world about that cold and lonely night that @hoosierbeerkgeek & @brewhouse came up with the name Nap Town Nut Brown. All I'll say is it involved many things I wouldn't even dream of doing for these tickets.

    falconbeach33 at yahoo.com

  23. I will take a swim in the canal, Pat McAfee style.

  24. What can I say; I screwed up...and monumentally at that. I rolled the dice and waited too long to purchase my Winterfest ticket. Resultant is an empty shell of a man, a pariah amongst his own group of friends for being the lone soul without admission to this wondrous event. Alas, such is life and this lamentable situation is no person's blame, but my own. However, in spite of my imprudent regard for the fact that tickets to the popular event sell out each year, I choose to impart the reasons why attending Winterfest means such a great deal to me. My tale begins in the Winterfest of '09. A senior in college, and a fraternity member to boot, I had certainly sampled my share of your Buds, Millers, Coors, and regrettably, a variety of your lesser American-style lagers, which I will refrain from mentioning on a site dedicated to the appreciation of good brew. On pure whim, the fortunate circumstance of a friend with an extra ticket, I agreed to venture to the Indiana State Fairgrounds on a brisk January afternoon to sample the then foreign-to-me "micro-brew." Don't get me wrong, I loved beer, and was wholeheartedly looking forward to the inevitable buzz I would obtain from three hours of sampling, but I was in no comprehensible way prepared for what I was about to experience. Within minutes, I could sense a fundamental change in my palate. I was being exposed to a plethora of phenomenal, full flavors, the likes of which left me astonished and adventurous for more. Ales, lagers, porters, hybrids, and beyond that, the darks, ambers, stouts, creams, and the glorious I.P.A. were all at my fingertips. There was just so much to try and so little time to do so. I left that day with that buzz I had anticipated just hours earlier (a dd was present with us of course), but I left with something so much greater; I left with a newfound appreciation for craft beer, specifically the beer brewed by Indiana breweries. In the years to come, I made it a point to seek out the multitude of fantastic creations produced in the Hoosier state. I've ventured to most all of the breweries in the state, I try to purchase a new craft brew every time I make it to liquor store, I have educated myself on the basics of micro-brewing, and have attended several other IBG events, including the Microfest and the Bloomington Craft Beer Fest. However, more than my love for the fantastic taste of craft beer is my appreciation for the pride and passion that each brewer puts into his or her own creations. It truly is an art form, and has become a prominent contributor to Indiana culture. In any event, I hope I have expressed the profound impact that attending my first and only Winterfest had on my life. Circumstances involving school, work, and family have prevented me from attending in recent years, but I had hoped this would be the year for my return. Similar to many other desperate beer advocates I'm sure; I have trolled EBay, Craig's List, and Stub-hub for an elusive ticket to no avail. When I thought all hope was lost, I stumbled upon this comment thread. I know my chances are slim at this point, but it is certainly worth a shot. Rather than describe the hypothetical or imaginary things that I would do for the tickets, I will offer up that which I can accomplish. First of all, I will certainly subscribe to Hoosier Beer Geek, and if presented with a t-shirt in addition to the prize, will don it proudly this Saturday. I will also proclaim my appreciation for Hoosier Beer Geek on my Twitter and Facebook accounts for the week following. Additionally, because I have no need to be selfish, I will gladly only accept one ticket as my prize, leaving the other for one of my fellow ticket-seekers. What I may lack in creation, I make up for in desire. I truly do wish to attend Winterfest this year, but if not, I will feel glad knowing that at least one other hopeless individual received a magnificent second chance. And you can as sure as Hell bet that I will buy my ticket early next year.