The Ghost of Drinks Yet to Come...
.. Only to receive a Seductively sullen stare in return.
And a fuzzy one for good measure.
Now, I'm no luddite, but I now know how to break an old washing machine: Put a large load on a small cycle, sit back and smell the sweet, salient scent of Triumph.
Cleaning a kegerator, however, falls under someone else's jurisdiction of responsibility. But seriously, everyone, get your hand off that fucking mouse. Look. Look closely. This is a rare, one of a kind, IN ACTION photograph of a kegerator cleaning. I've seen your New Year's resolutions lists. I know your inner dreams and goals; your very fantasies circle the fringes of mine own psychic consciousness, waiting to be realized, hoping for acknowledgement. So look; nay, look well. Regard this incarnation of thine hope, manifest.
Water goes in, AND WATER COMES OUT!*
Apparently, however, I cannot seem to remove the time date stamp from a picture, although many have tried to explain the process, I simply smile, nod my head, and plod on, unsuccessfully.
One thing I do know, however, is that a good manservant is a priceless commodity, specifically one cartoonish and green. Like Gumby.
And when preparing for festive occasions, those half-barrels can be quite the load. So why not have others bear the burden of our own spoils? And spills?
Easy there, big fella. Lift with your legs, not with your back.
Uh oh.. looking a little shaky...
Alright, Gumby, step aside.
Mount that golden shower like only you can..
And calmly witness the throng of gin-soaked pilgrims flocking to pay homage to skull-face-in-the-glass: apparition, lover, deceiver, thwarter of bad tidings, beatific harbringer of a gloriously strange and enigmatic Aught Six for one and all.
*Um.. what the fuck?