America makes Beer?

Ok, I guess we do make some swill, but I mostly drink from what is called the American Micro Brewery. So you may not have had the chance to sample them in the great land of Canadia.



Quick question: Why the hell didn't you guys buy Alaska? It seems lame that we own it, it should be yours. I would give it to you, but the Ogre says we bought Alaska from Russia, and technically I can't just go giving States to friends in Toronto, no matter how much I envy their shoes.

Back to beer. Miller, be it Lite, High Life Lite, or "Genuine Draft" is what my family originally thought bottled water was. Nice to drink on a hot day after mowing the lawn, or safe to drink if the water might be contaminated.



Budweiser? They have horses. Which is odd because I always thought that Coors was made of horse piss so I kind of thought that they were the horse people.




If I am going to drink beer, it must be from the people of the Great White North.

Which is why when I reach for a brew, I go Labatt. Actually, I may reach for a Labatt because I was a bit Toronto Blue Jays fan growing up and I may have been brain washed by the ads, or the color of the team. Must research that.

See, always trying to be Canadian; The Tigers win the World Series in '84, I root for a Canadian ball team, out of spite.

Back to US Beer, or US Swill...Micro Brews are the only way to go. These are guys who brew for the love of the hops, the excitement of the process, and well, drinking beer.

Ah, good times...

The Posh and the Hosers

Hey there Kristina!

My latest Beret was turned into a regular hat by accident! I was knitting while eating some awesome thai food and got distracted by spice. No, not a gaggle of actually Spice Girls, or look alike Posh Spice haircuts, I may have been distracted by this sort of cleavage...

Speaking of the Pob, I am just going to bow down and accept her sassy hair and rid my head of this accursed soccer mom do (doo doo.) It's making me very evil. I'm evil enough on my own. I carry a blooded zombie shovel for sheep's sake, I don't need more evil.

One table over was full of business men all computer speaking trying to talk big and pick up chicks. Yes, pick up chicks with their nerd speak lingo. In my haze of thai spice, and joy of lame pick up attempts, the 1 inch of 2x2 rib for her kicky beret pleasure turned into 4 inches of 2x2 rib for a regular old...



Hoser Hat.


Ah, perhaps it will still be a kicky hoser hat. It's in safety orange, so I think I am going to stitch in "Shoot on Sight" into it.