I want to thank ALL of you, and I mean ALL of you that responded either in my comments or via email (I got a LOT of emails about this) detailing the nutritional value of beer.
Now, while I appreciate that many of the ingredients in beer might at some point in their existence been healthy and nutrition-laden substances, I’m just gonna have to go ahead and say that the process of making beer probably negates that value. I couldn’t help but be reminded of the Bill Cosby routine where he is tasked to prepare breakfast for his children. They want chocolate cake, he knows this is wrong, they insist and he determines that since chocolate cake has eggs and flour in it, both nutritionally viable breakfast options, it must be good for breakfast.
Dad is great! Give us the chocolate cake”
Also, when you take into consideration those people who seem to subsist solely on beer. These are not healthy people. At all. These people are losing teeth and organs, not because of scurvy but because their body is willing itself to die without checking with the brain first. This is the result of beer.
I’m still voting for beer negating the value of the vitamin.
non sequitur
Today a coworker came into my office, looked at me and asked “are you on the phone?”. I told the Time Warner guy to hold on and replied, “Yes, that’s why I have a phone attached to my face!”. There was much amusement at this. Even the Time Warner guy laughed and he was like one of those old, beer drinking guys with the raspy voice named Earl that your grandpa hung out with down at the VFW. Earl rocked. Earl loved me.
Earl loved me because of my policy today to be cheerful AND goofy on the phone with everyone. Also, there was a huge clusterfuck on my account that needed to be fixed. Earl was expecting yelling and hystrionics. He was expecting blame. There was no blame! Earl didn’t hold my account down and sweat all over it while he called it dirty names and grunted like a hog factory sow giving birth. No way, Earl just answered the phone, Earl was just doing his job. Also, if your goal is to be cheerful you can’t very well go around yelling at people, can you?
So, in exchange for my pleasant and off kilter repartee I got my account fixed, I got a special rate for the next six months AND he tried to wing it so my internet access could be hooked up tomorrow (he got me in on monday, it was the soonest he could finagle). Earl and I wished each other the happiest of weekends.
Then i went down to the DMV and chatted up the lady in double knit behind the counter. I cheered when she told me the vehicle I was getting tabs for needed new plates. Oddly, this revelation confused the woman next to me. She heard “your chevy needs new plates” (it’s the school’s pick up truck) and kept asking “do all chevy’s need new plates? do i have to get new plates? why only chevy’s”. We tried to explain to her that it was just a matter of age. The plates on this vehicle were 11 years old and the state routinely switches out the plates on vehicles after they hit a certain age. She still couldn’t understand why the state was targeting chevy’s, but she was glad it wasn’t hers. We gave up, she was happy enough. I was getting tabs for 2 different vehicles and I so very thoughtfully had all my paperwork, the check and my ID at the ready for her.
I declared the entire process to be ‘Keen’, wished her a happy weekend and was on my way.
I then got the ever reliable Ghengis and headed back to work to drop off the tabs and plates. I made sure Ghengis did his duty before we left and still he managed to crap in my office. He’s kind of retarded.
Tomorrow I move. Wish me luck.
Tonight the boy and I have a date. YAY.