Good Mornin’ Y’all! I finally have enough caffiene in me to be somewhat coherent.
Dang what a shift yesterday! Picture it, Albeeny, second shift at the brewery. Two lines runnin’ pretty smooth. That’s a scary thing I’m told cause it can only mean sump’n big is gonna eff up real soon. Lo and behold! First on C7, the filler (where the beer gets put in cans) is doin’ some serious underfills which means 12 ounce cans of Old Milwaukee beer (yeah, I know, we got some class stuff, what can I say) are bein’ rejected right and left. Now, rejects travel by conveyor and <snerk> vibrator <snerk> to a dumpster, which, when full, gets taken back to recycle cause cans (and bottles) can be recycled and we’re all green like that. Well, sooooo much is bein’ rejected that it fills up the dumpster really fast (an empty bigass dumpster in two hours!) that rejects start flyin’ everywhere. Remember, children, these cans have beer in ‘em, though not twelve ounces like they’re supposed to. Flyin’ beer cans are like bombs. They puncture and beer spews everywhere! Not as bad as bottles when it comes to bombs though cause bottles can and will explode. :eek: Thus, there’s like four of us dealin’ with flyin’ beer cans and gettin’ covered on Old Milwaukee beer. ICK! Then, C6 filler decides it does not want to work at all. Nope. Ain’t gonna do it. You can’t make me. It mocked us all night. It sent out a bunch of empty beer cans before that was discovered, which meant that somebody was not doin’ quality checks like somebody should have, cause if it had been done as it should be, which consists of yankin’ random cans off the line once they go through the filler and are sealed, it would have been noticed well before oh, about eight hundred freakin’ 16 ounce cans of Miller High Life had gone through pasteurization and started bein’ sent down the line to be packaged. That’s where I caught it. Ummm… it don’t take a genius to figure out there’s empty cans comin’ down the line cause they rattle like hell. There ain’t nuttin’ in ‘em! Thus, da bear gets to stop a production line and commence to removin’ empty cans off of the conveyor because we just do not want empty beer cans a’ flyin’, which they will. Again, one big ass dumpster filled with empty beer cans. This is why I did not post when I came home last night. Matter of fact, when I got to da cave, I went around to the back porch and took off my clothes there. They were literally soaked with beer. Oh, and I have a profound new respect for safety goggles. There’s a lot of pressure in those cans of not full beer, needless to say. Hee! Last night I was callin’ 'em my beer goggles. I do not want to be squirted in the eyes with beer.
So, that’s my report from the brewery. Excitin’ huh? 
I’ve read through the past two and a half pages (geez, folks, give the keyboards a rest! 
) so appropriate, yays, boos, feel betters, awwws, woohoos, etc where needed.
ETA: Sic 'em Sean!
Thanks.