I learned today that the Frost Faire at Pottsgrove is cancelled. I had prepared quite a lot of beer for events this year and while beer keeps for a very ling time, there was just too much to keep. It was time to clean out as this beer not be good next year. Faced with the undesirable task of disposing of this brew, I set to emptying each keg and every bottle down the sink. It was a simple task but, well like so many things in 2020, it did not proceed as planned.
I took the first case and began uncorking bottles and pouring them down the sink but its a hard job so I did set one glass aside which I drank. I then proceeded to the next case and did likewise with the exception of one glass which I drank. Proceeding to the third case, I began uncorking bottles and pouring the contents down the sink, with the exception of one glass which I drank.
I opened the fourth sink and poured several bottles down the glass which I drank. With the next case, I pulled the bottles from the corks and drank one sink out of it and threw the rest down the glass. I pulled the sink out of the cases and poured the corks from the bottles. Thin I corked the sink with the glass, bottled the beer, and drank the pour. When I had every thing emptied I steadied the house with one hand, counted the bottles, corks, glasses and sinks with the other which were twenty-nine, and put the houses in the bottle which I drank.
I’m not under the affluence of incahol, but thinkle peep I am. I’m not half so thunk as you might drink. I fool so feelich I don’t know who is me, and the drinker I schtand here the longer I get.
Next year, I need help drinking this beer, its too damn hard to pour out.