A response to people who demonize Facebook and Twitter addiction.
Posts Tagged beer
The Evil Genie grants three wishes a week. Leave a wish in the comments!
radbeck1 wishes: I wish I had a tower of beer that never ran out.
The Evil Genie replies: Granted! You have an unending beer tower, taller than a skyscraper and filled continuously by some kind of mysterious heavenly presence. You and your friends and your family and your co-workers and your bowling team and your AA meeting group can drink until your hearts are first content, and then exploding. Beer!
There, of course, some catches. First of all, the beer is Coors Light. Blehhhh. It’s not quite as dire as say, Natty Light or actual pisswater, but it’s not ideal. Also, obviously, housing a beer tower that is larger than a building is difficult — specifically, it’s impossible. Few skyscrapers are taller than a skyscraper, fewer still are hollow to the top, and only a paltry handful are willing to rent space to an enormous cylinder of alcohol. Those that are willing consider you as a tenant remind you that will need to rent all 68 stories of the tower, which, even with unlimited beer to sell, comes at an inconceivable price. Stuck outside, the beer tower is subject to the elements, you find rain and birds and bugs and even a small asteroid in your Coors Light. This does little to help the taste.
Devised and distributed by hobbyists Dr. & Mrs. Lucien Blackhorse, Porcine ‘Pocalypse is a pork-infused pale ale with playful notes of beeswax and roasted almond. Every bottle of PP begins its journey in an abandoned Gresham, OR sulfur mine, brewed by a rotating staff of applied chemistry interns from Lewis & Clark College. The beer is then injected into a semi-porous calcium membrane (patent pending) and placed inside the eviscerated stomach cavity of an unborn fetal pig, bought at surplus auction from the Multnomah County School District. Each pig is then assigned a first name beginning with the letter “T” and buried under a haunted nail salon for additional fermentation. Six months later, the pigs are exhumed, and the calcium bladders removed. The beer is then re-infused with carbonation and filtered through a special blend of trail mix and rare gem stones. Each bottle is then blessed by a Unitarian priestess and custom-labeled with the name of the now-incinerated fetal pig. YOU ARE DRINKING: “TIMOTHY”