FEAR THE BEER—A birthday postscript
My Fellow Inebriates,
There was no cake and there was no Scotch. But my mother, oozing with generosity, bought me one beer (most of which she then dumped into a vat of lentil soup). The beer was called
The Langley address is that of a group of non-government liquor stores in Langley, BC. From what I gather, the lager is actually brewed in Prince George, where my mother was conceived out of wedlock many years ago and which smells of sawmill effluent.
I think it is the worst beer I have ever had.