My fellow inebriates,
You should see the amazing beer fridges that have popped up in our neighbourhood this week.
Even Miss P made one.
Well, she started making one.
And Miss V made a snow gerbil.
My question is, where is the beer to put in these fridges, and how do we guard that beer from this red-eyed gerbil?
My Fellow Inebriates,
Usually my dad and I get to bogart all the India Pale Ale that enters LBHQ. My mother’s marshmallow tastebuds can’t tolerate IPA’s “earwax and elastic band” topnotes and she has no comprehension of how symphonic a good IPA can be. So when my dad brought home INNIS & GUNN TOASTED OAK IPA, I thought we’d be safe from sharing with her. Together we could drink in peace and scratch ourselves as much as we liked.
Boy, was I wrong. Not only did Mum like INNIS & GUNN TOASTED OAK IPA; she bellied up to the counter with us and took half of our precious beer! Then she proceeded to marvel about the lack of earwax and elastic bands, the appetizing crystal-gold pour, the complexly hoppy aroma, the delicious toasty taste with buttery golden-rum asides, the refreshing mouthfeel, and the lingering bitter finish! OMG, my fellow inebriates, why didn’t my dad buy twice as much INNIS & GUNN TOASTED OAK IPA? Then we could have at least knocked my mum out (or wait—maybe not … only 5.6 percent alcohol).
Lest you think Dad and I don’t like Mum—it’s not really like that. We just like keeping all the IPA for ourselves. Dad and I (and Scarybear) take the IPA down to the movie room and watch action movies, knowing she won’t go anywhere near us or our beer. We thought we had a good plan with INNIS & GUNN TOASTED OAK IPA! We had Transformers: Age of Extinction all lined up! And suddenly there she was with us, suggesting we open a second bottle and discuss books or something. OMG!
Weirdly enough, though, the more INNIS & GUNN TOASTED OAK IPA we drank, the more my mum started to seem okay—after all, she was being liberal with the bottle opener. And so I thought, too bad for Scarybear and the Transformers movie, but having a couple of IPAs with my parents ain’t that bad.
And then the kids came charging out of their room, seized me from the counter, and dressed me up like a superhero.
And that, my fellow inebriates, was the last sip for me of INNIS & GUNN TOASTED OAK IPA.
My Fellow Inebriates,
The last year at LBHQ has been like a country music song. My blog has deteriorated to a shadow of its former, pester-you-daily self, and our drinking has indeed subsided to the dull roar my parents had threatened it would. About a hundred beanie boos, including a frighteningly large owl, have invaded the house, leaving no quarter for bears. All our household electronics are on the fritz, including the entertainment room projector, and our inability to zone out in front of an action movie has turned my friend Scarybear (being at loose ends) into more of a threat than usual. And to top it off, Facebook deactivated my account because—get this—I’m not real.
Sometimes I stare into space all day; sometimes I collapse into a little crumpled, furry ball.
Which makes Valentine’s Day downright unwelcome, my fellow inebriates. Especially given that my girlfriend Dolly says I may never refer to her as that, even in the past tense. And so, for all my fellow misfits who have no liquor and no snuggles (again), here are a few pictures.