Police are warning all men who frequent clubs, parties and local bars to be alert and stay cautious when offered a drink by a woman. Many females are using a date rape drug on the market called “Beer.” The drug is found in liquid form and is available anywhere. It comes in bottles, cans, or from taps and in large kegs. Beer is used by female sexual predators at parties and bars to persuade their male victims to go home and sleep with them. A woman needs only to get a guy to consume a few units of Beer and then simply asks him to come home with her for some no-strings attached sex.
Please! Forward this warning to every male you know. If you fall victim to this Beer scam and the women administering it, there are male support groups where you can discuss the details of your shocking encounter with similarly victimized men. For the support group nearest you just look up “Golf Courses” in the phone book
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A man walks into a bar and says “G-g-gimme a b-b-beer. The bartender says, “Seems as though you’ve got a major stuttering problem.” The man replies, N-n-no k-k-kidding!” The bartender says, “I used to stutter, but my wife cured me. One afternoon she gave me oral sex three times in a row, and I haven’t stuttered since!” The man says, “W-w-wow, th-th-that’s great to kn-kn-know” A week later, the same man returns to the bar, and says, “G-g-gimme a b-b-beer.” The bartender says, “Why didn’t you do what I told you?” “I d-d-did try”, said the man. “It j-j-just d-d-didn’t w-w-work. But I m-m-must say, you have a r-r-really n-nice apartment.
AND TO MY BETTER-HALF AND ALL OF YOU OTHER BEER FANATICS
I’ve been a homebrewer for more than thirty years. I’ve made thousands of bottles of wine over the years because I’m just not a big fan of beer. My few attempts at making beer were miserable failures or that’s what I’ve been told by the “Beer” people. It was a fun hobby and mostly kept me at home and out of trouble for years. When I notice something related to home brewing, I always save it for later use. This post has been in my files for a lot of years, and I can’t even remember where it came from, so I dusted it off, and here it is. Maybe next Christmas it might motivate some of you “Beer” people give it a try.
“TWAS THE HOMEBREWER’S NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS”
Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, Every creature was thirsty, including the mouse… The steins were empty, and the bottles were too The beer had been drunk with no time to brew.
My family was nestled all snug in their beds While visions of Christmas Ale foamed in their heads. Mama in her kerchief lamented the drought, She craved a pilsner and I, a large stout.
When out on the lawn, there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter. Away to the kitchen, I flew like a flash, Opening the door with a loud bang and crash!
I threw on the switch and the lights, all aglow, Gave a luster of mid-day to the brew-pot below. When, what to my wondering eyes should appear But Gambrinus himself, the patron of beer.
With a look in his eye, so lively and quick, He said, “You want beer? Well, here, take your pick.” More rapid than eagles, his recipes came As he whistled and shouted and called them by name.
“Now, Pilsener! Now, Porter! Now, Stout and Now Maerzen! On, Bitter! On, Lager! On, Bock and On Weizen!” “To the top of the bottles, the short and the tall, Now brew away, brew away, and fill them all!”
As dried hops before a wild hurricane fly, And then, without warning, settle down with a sigh, So towards the brew-pot, the ingredients flew, Malt extract, roasted barley and crystal malt, too.
And then in a twinkling, I heard it quite plain, The cracking open of each barley grain. As I drew in my head and was turning around, Into the kitchen, he came with a bound.
He was dressed like a knight, from his head to his toes, With an old family crest adorning his clothes. A bundle of hops, he had flung on his back, And the brewing began when he opened his pack.
His hops were so fragrant! His barley, how sweet! The adjuncts included Munich malt and some wheat. The malted barley was mashed in the tun, Then boiled with hops in the brew-pot ’till done.
Excitement had me gnashing my teeth, As the sweet smell encircled my head like a wreath. Beer yeast was pitched, both lager and ale, The wort quickly fermented; not once did it fail.
It was then krausened, or with sugar primed, And just being bottled when midnight had chimed. A wink of his eye and a twist of his head, Soon gave me to know, I’d be shortly in bed.
He spoke not a word but kept on with his work, And capped all the bottles, then turned with a jerk. And laying a finger alongside his nose, He belched (quite a burp!) before he arose.
Clean-up was easy, with only a whistle, And away the mess flew, like the down on a thistle. And I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he left me the beer, “Merry Christmas to all and a HOPPY New Year!”
Have you ever had something piss you off so bad you felt a sharp, stabbing pain behind your eyes. If you have then the following list will be perfect for you. I love reading lists and I also love writing them from time to time. Over the last few years I’ve experienced almost 60% of the things listed below and it seems to be getting worse each year instead of improving. The pandemic has done nothing to stop these annoyances, it has possibly increased them.
The person who insists on explaining at length something I have absolutely no interest in.
People who snore the paint right off the walls and then deny ever snoring.
People who love to talk over me during a conversation make me want to scream.
Waiting in my car at the ATM for 15 minutes for some moron on a bicycle making a deposit.
The guy in the next men’s room stall at Walmart who opens a stolen package of underwear, puts them on, and leaves his old pair on the floor when he departs.
The attractive woman driving the gorgeous new Lexus who rolls down her window and spits a huge oyster into the passing lane.
People who will stand quietly in line at a movie theater but can’t shut the hell up once the movie starts.
Screaming out-of-control children in public places with parents shopping elsewhere.
The woman chatting on her cell phone as she smashed into my left front fender.
Loud and obnoxious beer drinking morons at any sporting event.
People who are “close talkers” with chronic “stench breath” who won’t stop talking to me.
Finding short and curly hairs in my restaurant food.
Waiting endlessly in a register line for a customer to be trained in the use of their own debit card by the cashier.
People who loudly bitch and moan about their meals and the service at a restaurant.
City workers who insist on destroying my mailbox every year with a 10 ton snowplow.
I feel much better now that I’ve gotten all of those off my chest. It’s a very cathartic experience to say the least. I wrote these items in less than 15 minutes and I’m afraid if I took a bit more time the list would’ve doubled.
everyuselessthing.com 