Typing all of those beer names took me and my kidneys on a trip down memory lane. I must say that although my kidney's enjoyed the memory, I suspect my liver has never forgiven me for so many trips to Old Milwaukee. Now although I was never really a fan of PBR, I was able to procure a giant Pabst sign that used to hang in front of one of our not-so-nice liquor establishments here in Clinton called "Finn's". In fact, I was only ever in there two different times and in that two times, I saw three fights and had a pitcher of beer thrown on me. Nevertheless, this sign is a lovely addition to the one room in the house that I am allowed to decorate, the garage.
I'm not really sure why my decorating tastes aren't allowed to spill over into the main living areas. I think my Beavis and Butthead poster would look fantastic right where our family portrait is hanging.
My moth eaten, homemade Cubs or giant Angus Young banners would gel nicely in place of the fancy art in the bathroom.
How could anyone think that my old collection of Peanut's and Mad books wouldn't look better on this shelf than those alien artifacts that are there now.
Now wouldn't John Wayne look nice hanging over the kitchen table so he could watch us eat?
Anyways, on to the crown jewel of my garage-THE BEER FRIDGE. I have a theory that you should never be more than 20 feet from a beer fridge because you never know when an emergency may arise. This is my family room beer fridge for when we are on the computer.
This is my garage beer fridge and the keeper of the Miller Lite.
I drink Miller Lite bottles and the missus drinks Miller Lite cans. She is afraid that if we both drank bottles that I might dip into her stash since I drink considerably faster than her. I do not hold this against her at all as I am sure she is right. Well, in my beer fridge, you will see a lone, beat up, well past it's expiration date Pabst Blue Ribbon. This is a special can that has been secretly snuck back and forth with my neighbor for YEARS. I am not sure any more how it even started but this can has been dropped so many times from the crooked path between our houses (okay, it's straight but it sure doesn't look that way when I am sneaking it back to his house) that I can't believe it hasn't exploded. There was one desperate time when my old college friends were up that we ran out of beer and almost drank it out of desperation. But it survives.
Somehow it had magically appeared in my fridge about a month ago so on Halloween (since we were going to my neighbor's to drink after Trick or Treating), I snuck it back down there. So, here it is in it's new home with a note of warm tidings for the Holiday season.
So long old friend. I am sure we will meet again someday. Probably the next time I leave my garage door up.