My Fellow Inebriates,
I’ve realized the asteroid missed us—how awesome is that? Sounds like a great reason to break out the Jim Beam. Let’s pour it into shooter glasses and set it on fire. YEAH!! Drink and be merry; our little marble is safe for now.
My Fellow Inebriates,
My friends the Beer & Whiskey Brothers have the right idea with their question of what beer to drink before a city-block-sized boulder hits us tonight. My fur’s been quivering since I read about this asteroidal mutha, and if it indeed has our little planet in its sights, there’s nothing to do but drink, people.
But I don’t advise sipping.
The prospect of our little blue marble getting plowed by an asteroid is so bowel-emptyingly fearful that you need to render yourself insensible for the impact. So here’s a list of non-sipping beers you can pound or shotgun as you brace yourself.
You see, on the brink of an apocalypse, your tastebuds are just about useless. The fight-or-flight response galvanizes your body—your heart pounds, your lungs heave, blood rushes from your stomach, your pupils dilate, and you get a metallic taste in your mouth.
You’re ready to freak out, but you’re not the best judge of beer. This is why I RECOMMEND racing to your local booze shop to buy any or all of the aforementioned brews.
If this is the end, I’ve enjoyed getting wasted with you in cyberspace. Be strong, humans, and drink up.
My Fellow Inebriates,
I actually overheard the following as one of my parents left: “I’m just getting groceries, nothing else. If that batshit crazy bear wants anything, it’s out of luck.”
“It’s”!!
Well, of course I wanted things. I had a list. It’s pouring rain outside, and I had a really cozy idea: Kahlua and butterscotch schnapps stirred into hot milk. Yum, right?
Okay, so I’d personally leave out the milk, but the concoction as described above is a good idea. It’s so warming and romantic, so good for curling up by the fire.
Admittedly it’s something I dreamt up to lure my girlfriend back to me.
You’re probably remembering I told you about Dolly, and that she doesn’t like being called my girlfriend. She’s all human, she insists, and has decided to curb whatever fetishistic desires led to these pictures:
I just asked her and she said ten. But how can I get my parents to do my liquor shopping?
Liquorstore Bear 