As many of you probably have done, I recently was pondering the bizarre phenomenon that is the mindset of people who don’t drink beer. Why would someone abstain from the most precious substance on earth? Well, I set to find out. This month'* Beer of the Month article will document my findings.
My first step was to remove all beer from the BIGFY laboratory. This was a Herculean task to say the least. I began by allowing some friends to come over for the Tyson fight with the hopes of emptying the keg. Although the fight only lasted about 45 seconds, I am proud to report that the mission was accomplished. Thank god for thirsty friends.
Next I had to deplete the auxiliary supplies. So I chilled my backup supplies that are hidden in various areas of the laboratory. I had a hard time finding some of my emergency stash, but with the help of my beer-sniffing dog “tapper”, we located about 7 cases (including some Natural Light, believe it or not) and iced them down to an acceptable drinking temperature. Several grueling hours of drinking, heaving, and drinking some more had the desired effect of eliminating all beer from the premesis.
I was hung over for most of the next day, but I was now ready to conduct this scientific experiment that was “life without beer”. I am a dedicated professional, so I must warn those less experienced to NOT ATTEMPT THIS AT HOME. I began my experiment by not drinking a beer with my breakfast. This is not as easy as it might sound. I substituted brew with orange juice and was able to finish my omelet with only minor annoyance. However lunch became a little more problematic. Have you ever tried to eat pizza without the lubricant of beer? I can tell you this is very difficult. Believe it or not, pizza is not very good by itself. It is kind of “cheesy” really. And it gets cold pretty quick. And, to my surprise, the anchovies taste rather like fish. But I digress.
At this point in my experiment, I began experiencing some rather scary side effects. I started noticing things that I never had before. My wife was speaking to me in English; and I understood what she was saying- and it wasn’t good. My children complain constantly; and expect me to do things like explain why the big teletubby is purple. My television suddenly had absolutely nothing even remotely interesting on. I discovered that President Bush was actually the son of President Bush. I had just assumed that he was looking very good for his age. Oh, and I found out that we are going to war, the economy is in the crapper, and most disturbing of all I learned that Barbara Striesand is still alive. The hits just kept on coming as I discovered that my 401(k) was worth virtually nothing, I pay too much in taxes, and I really can’t sing very well. I noticed that I am not a very good golfer, my mother in law has an annoying, squealing, wretched voice, and I’m not very good looking. Sobriety was really starting to bum me out. That’* when the headaches started.
My friends and family noticed that I was spinning deeper and deeper into depression. I went to my shrink only to realize that he was just a bartender and didn’t appreciate giving advice unless I was purchasing and tipping. My life was quickly spinning out of control. My palms were constantly sweating and I developed a limp. I started stuttering and developed insomnia. My sex life was nil, and although my wife insisted that it has been that way for some time, it bothered me for some reason.
I discovered that baseball is a really boring game to watch, and catch and release fishing is just about the dumbest thing in the world. I noticed that Nascar races are really just a bunch of ugly-painted cars going in circles and pay-per-view **** costs too much. I figured out that the girls at Hooter’* don’t really think I’m charming, and farts actually smell bad. I realized that my parents are actually divorced and it is more than likely my fault (according to my sister who I discovered is really just a bitch that has similar DNA to me).
Finally my friends and family took me aside for an intervention when they found out that I was contemplating reading the articles in Penthouse magazine. Thank goodness for my loved ones. They sat me in a room, placed a cold Sam Adams in front of me and said “we love you, please drink this!” And so I did. And the world suddenly became a better place.
While the experiment must be considered a failure (I still have no idea why people punish themselves by not drinking the nectar of the gods), I must say that I survived with most of my body parts intact (did you know that fingernails are considered a body part?).
All in all, I have to say that it was the worst 24 hours of my life.