My Beer? Go Fuck Yourself.
Pictures of my desktop - The first photograph in a highly entertaining and heartbreakingly realistic line of portraits coming to you, via this blog, every day for the next six years, until you see the horrific, breathtakingly true, painstakingly recreated (through the power of the medium of film) representation of my own life, and, particularly that of my desktop, aging and living together; a symbiosis of flesh and furniture, wood and man, till death do it's part and render us similarly unliving.
Besides this exciting new project, the greatest thing this blog has to offer simply has to be the link on the right, which happens to say "Currently on tap in the kegerator" etc.
It used to say Michelob.
Now, Original Coors.
I originally decided today that I would not drink any beer in the evening. I substituted ice cream in its stead, hoping to extinguish the alcohol cravings with the cool, soothing over and under tones of frozen dairy. Upon completion of said uberbowl, my housemate walks into the room, handing me a freshly poured beer. 'Tis a sin to refuse the simple courtesy of another, and nay be I the one to break the sacred bonds of beer giving. Throwing caution to the wind, I throw Coors on top of a bowl of ice cream in my belly.
Baccus high on his debauched, decadent ballustrade nods in knowing approval, and whispers solemnly in my ear:
"KNOCK THREE TIMES -
On the ceiling if you want me..
Twice on the pipe...
if the answer is NO...
OH MY SWEETNESS!"
Oh wait. Maybe that was Tony Orlando and Dawn.
"Hey you hip young kids, gogettin' it and making it Groovy! That's right, Tony Orlando here - Dawn too! and Three! Nothing soothes the palate after a day belting out "Candida" then cold beer and a threesome. Our beer? Black and Tans, of course.. Made with Rocky Mountain cold Original Coors.. and Dawn. And Dawn! Remember, ladies - the Tony Orlando Manwich is best served between two slices of choice Dark Rye. Heil Satan!"