If my wife ever ordered me to buy Lite, she might as well start packing. Only beer is allowed in our 12-packs.
God I’m already there. Years ago, I used to walk from my apartment to this pub I really enjoyed going to, that was a little over a mile away. It was a nice, fairly easy walk, and nothing tasted as good as the one or two pints of Bass that I would have, usually with food. I loved beer!
But just recently, when I once again tried the long-walk-followed-by-drinks-at-a-pub routine, I found that when I got to the pub–not the same one–I had no desire whatsoever for beer, but instead ordered white wine!
Beer makes me pee to much!
Sorry, Rube. I had a nice little list of phone numbers of the people I wanted to call; lost it in transit between Ottawa and Stratford; then the plays took over!
If you’re ever going, drop me an e-mail. The Beloved and I might be there again.