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.
I was all prepared to have a classic alcoholic birthday. You know, wake up miserable about no one noticing the date, then hit the bottle.
And then Julia Gale of Broker’s Gin left this amazing message on my FB page.
And humanity is redeemed. Who cares if my parents forget my birthday now? I have Julia, not to mention a wonderful bowler hat she sent me, allowing me to go from this:
and this:
to this:
and then to this:
Ahhh, Julia, you’ve made my day. And to all my FB friends and fellow inebriates, thank you!
Of course I still plan to hit the bottle ASAP.
Liquorstore Bear 