Mardi Gras: The Great Beer Experiment

by pjmcbride

I am observing Fat Tuesday (remember the World Leader Edict–observing it the previous weekend doesn’t count) by staying safely at home and drinking my remaining 3 apple ales from my Valentine 6-pack. Let’s see what happens, shall we? Probably nothing, but you never know, I may go out in the front yard and raise hell. And then the police will be called. And I will say to them, “Do you know who I am??” and things will go downhill from there.


Still typing pretty fast.

I got my first smartphone, at long last, and it appears to be smarter than I am. It and I are still getting to know each other. There are many interesting things you can now do to a photograph. I understand the allure of Sepia (make things old-timey!) and Negative (make everything look creepy!) but not of Aqua. (“Hey, look we’re underwater!”?) And what exactly does Solarize mean? Posterize apparently means “make everything look like a bad 60-s era picture.” “Press button to rotate camera.” Why would I want to–oh no. It’s for the dreaded selfie. Look at that face. Now I see why I keep getting offered senior discounts I don’t even deserve yet. Hmm, I look better in Negative. Accentuate the negative. And why won’t it let me Solarize or Posterize myself? Anyway, earlier I took an adorable picture of Rom sleeping on the couch, resting his broken leg, with his faithful calico cat upon him. (My faithful black-and-white cat is not a lap cat, which I suppose is no more than I deserve, since I’m not a lap person.) (Speaking of which, a minor leg fracture takes 4-6 weeks to heal, which is a LONG  time to go without…oh, never mind.)


I have an hour to finish off these bottles before Rom gets back in here to make dinner. Won’t he be surprised? So that’s 1/2 hour for each. Time to get goal-directed.

I’m feeling a little blurry around the edges.

Did you know cats can tell if you’re drunk? It’s true.

This bottle cap didn’t want to come off, but I prevailed, with the help of a towel. Woman is a tool-using animal, at least when there is no man around to do it for her.

The cat (black and white) wants me to play with her. Can do! I just rustle some paper and she goes crazy. I don’t even need to get up. Which is a good thing.

I finally figured out (yesterday) how to cut open a packet of soy sauce with a scissors without spilling any! I am learning useful life skills. Maybe I’ll have them all mastered by the time I die.

25 minutes left to finish this bottle. I’d best get to it. Apple ale tastes really good. I hope I get strawberry ale for my birthday.

What should I do now? Listen to music? Rom has some of that New Orleans music (I forget what it’s called) but I don’t like that. Maybe my “More Cowbell” anthology, which has “Mississippi Queen” on it. But if I listen to music, I might forget to get the 3rd bottle, and we can’t have that.

I have the feeling this is like “Flowers for Algernon,” and I’ll get progressively stupider as this post proceeds. Don’t you love a drunk who keeps talking about how drunk they are? I guess it beats being a drunk who calls 911 and claims not to be drunk, as they usually do. Hey, I’m doing research, so I’ll understand my callers! Maybe I’ll call 911. It wouldn’t be the first time.

20 minutes left, have I finished a third of this bottle yet? I’m not good with math.

Have I reached a new low point yet? Remember, I warned you at the outset that this blog would be self-indulgent. Of course, so are they all. And of course, no one requires that you read it. Until I actually do rule the world, of course.

Speaking of which, Baby Corn has been sighted at the bottom of an order of Chinese food (not mine). It was lurking in the hope of going undetected. Its time will soon be here. Although it doesn’t seem like it, what with all this snow and stuff. Which I, like everyone, have had enough of.

8:16 and I’m not half done yet! Maybe speed-drinking would be a bad idea.

Dear FanBase, I am sorry that I post so seldom these days.

Drunk texting–a good idea? Or not?

I guess not. I just tried texting to a landline. The phone should have a “Go home, you’re drunk!” tone. Oh wait, I am home.

I am lucky there’s not a feature saying “Rate This Post.” I guess the comments section would cover that.

It is significantly more difficult to stand up now that it was the last time I tried it. But I managed it.

8:31! I’ve not even finished the 2nd bottle! I am a weenie girl, as a Certain Person would say. Oh wait, girls don’t have weenies.

I will just have to keep up my momentum through dinner, I suppose. Rom can’t blame me, since he gave me the 6-pack. Of which I am only drinking half, I hasten to remind you. At this time, I mean. I drank the other half on 2 previous occasions.

I seem to have lost momentum. Should I hit “Save This Post” and then go on Ebay? I can’t think of anything I need, but they probably have something.

Did you know that everything tastes great when you’re drunk? I can hardly wait for dinner.

Apple ale sounds like it wouldn’t have much alcohol, but that’s not true. At least not for a weenie girl such as myself.

Did you know women are the original pussies? It’s true.

I’m beginning to sound like Poor Richard’s Almanac. Or maybe like a writer of fortune cookies. Did you know that they’re written by professional writers, and not by Chinese fortune-tellers? Speaking of which, my fortune cookies last night said,

1. “You have executive ability.” Yeah, that’s why I’m not a supervisor, and

2. “Better caution at first than tears afterwards.” That’s true in so many situations. I can think of one right now. Where I wasn’t cautious, I mean.

Perhaps I should become a writer of fortune cookies. They certainly wouldn’t be any worse. I’ll look into it.

Time to get the last bottle! Wow!


Did you know that my house has lots of corners that it’s hard to get around?

This stuff tastes very good.

Rom will be here in 10 minutes. I have no hope I can finish this bottle before then, but I’ve opened it, so I’m committed to a course of action.

Feeling a little dizzy. By the time you read this, I may be dead.

I got up to pet the cat and almost tipped my chair over. But I didn’t, so there’s hope.

I have 3 bottle caps on my desk. For some reason, I keep forgetting to throw them away, although I do remember to dispose of the bottles.

OK, this property is now occupied by one guy with a broken leg and one drunk. It’s like the blind leading the naked (which is the title of a Violent Femmes album, lest you think I cleverly thought it up myself).

Did you know the Violent Femmes came from Milwaukee, like I did? Came from Milwaukee, I mean.

It’s 9:00! Rom will be wondering why I have the hiccups.

I have had 2 1/3 bottles so far. I wonder if Stewart/Colbert will be more or less funny in my current condition.

FanBase, I wish you were with me. This stuff is so good.

Rom is here! Time for an intermission…

By the way, did you know you don’t have 4 kidneys?

And I’m bumping into things?