It’s that time of year; winter ales and stouts are back in season and I’m draining an Ol’ Saint Nick from Block 15 today. (We’re still doing phrasing, right?)
I’ve been coming out on my porch now for almost nine months. Nine months of this utter horseshit.
The ratfucking continues-it’s week six by my count-and at this point a portion of our representative leaders can be reasonably tasked with sedition.
What in the actual fuck.
Four yeas ago, when I started the Second Pint Project, I did it with the notion that things were going to be bad. That is was on me to pitch in more, highlight people fighting the good fight, and speak up because things were going to be bad.
I said so, because I saw it coming.
But I didn’t see this. I didn’t see a coup, I didn’t see what I don’t know else to call but treason.
These are cold days, so I suppose it’s good this winter warmer is on the table. The nose fades quickly-I can’t even remember what it was, now, but the beer itself is liquid dried fruit-fig, plum, raisin-punctuated by a dry-brush bitterness quality that scrapes the top of my mouth.
However, I can feel the alcohol heat in my belly, and when you’re on your porch in December, that is a welcome thing.
I hope we make it, and I hope that we are able to throw down the gauntlet and insist, “No more.”
I think we’ve all had enough of the ratfucking. It wasn’t funny to begin with, and it’s looking like they want to use bloodletting to get rid of it. So much for modern science. Medieval times for all! No wonder these yahoos won’t wear a mask!
Today’s second pint goes to the Emotional PPE Project.
A pint for Dionysus 