I am not one of those New Age motherfuckers who ever wished he was a girl. But if I was a girl and you tickled my nipples just so, beer would pour miraculously out of me just as sure as Jesus Christ never rose from the dead.
Other day I was standing in the beer store's walk in cooler. I liked just about every beer they had piled up in there. Looking at the McEwan's Scotch Ale I thought, "Oh yeah, that'd do the trick." Not many beers can make your skull and its contents as numb as that old timer.
I had tried just about every beer in the cooler except for a Vietnamese brew called 333 that comes in a box tied up with red string. Think I will wait for it to get good and hot out before I try that one in case it is as bad as I think it might be. Even bad beer is good in the summer.
The other beer I had not tried is brewed up not far from my Steepleton home. The brewery calls itself Russell. The beer store had four kinds of Russell piled up. I bought six of each and a bottle of red for Sonja.
Last night I tried the cream ale. I liked that. Maybe the people of Surrey, where Russell beers are made, are good for something other than running away from as fast as you can.
Tonight I am on the Russell lager. Nothing extra special about it. The welfare beer I drink is every bit as good as this one for about half the price.
Today was Good Friday. One of the days the Christian loons around here go extra special crazy. On our way home from the woods today Sonja, the Hammer and I spotted an old guy hauling a heavy cross down the road followed by a six pack of his bible packing fellow loons.
Because I spend so much of my time working, drinking beer, watching hockey and wishing beer would pour out of my nipples it is easy to forget I am surrounded by some first rate crazies.
6 comments:
And if Anne Murray were a boy?
.
Now that is a nice bit of metaphysics. Trouble is, at her age, she would be less appealing, except for his vaults full of cash, than Bryan Adams already is.
I disagree.
And if Mr. Allen gets Mr. Dobell to give Mr Adams even more boatloads of cash for 'winning' the right to score the opening ceremonies I will be happy to dedicate the rest of my working life to herculean attempts to an organ for the Divine Ms. M that will shoot Bass Ale into the stratosphere.
_____
And if wishes were horses we in the know know that the righteous winner of that contract from the Dobranos would go to Jimmy Vallance.
sheesh....
"generate the stem cells to develop an organ....."
that's what I was trying to say.
.
That's ok. Having Anne Murray, beer and organs in your head at the same time can fluster the best of us.
Ya, and 'fluster' is putting it mildly, to say the least.
You know when I got to know Ms. Anne best?
It was when that big pop bottle blew up and cut her badly...After that I never said a bad word about her or her sappy....errrr...snappy...tunes.
.
Post a Comment