Beer N Shingles

Beer N Shingles: Day One (but probably like day four)


Today has been a lovely day, a great day to sit on the porch and drink an ice cold refreshing brew, watch the cars roll by, smell the sweet summer air and wince as the sun shoots its sun arrows into my shingles addled brain, while reminiscing of the better times; like a couple days ago when I wasn’t suffering from the goddamn fucking shingles ( what am I an 80 year old woman or some shit). Oh well if that is what it takes to create awesomeness…

It has taken like a shit ton of time, several pairs of loafers and numerous experiments, (using all of the scientific methods of course…) oh yeah and the shingles, to finally squat down and get to the nitty gritty, to espouse to myself and this Compaq Presario M2000 (circa 2004) my affinity for fermented grains and yeast. To tell my inner demon to fuck off, cause today I have found liberation! No more denial, I love beer and the time is now for action (man I hope this bee does not fucking sting me, I punched it but he didn’t seem to cool with that, that would really fuck up my day, not even beer could fix that shitshow, I would be all anaphylactic, stroking out and shit, should probably grab an epipen but where is the adventure in that? Less action, starting now) I shall take this proverbial bull by its horns and ram my saber (Mexicans don’t even use sabers I should probably find out what they call it, a rapier maybe?) deep into its fatty hide in victory!

Admittedly that was a little bit mellow dramatic not to mention kinda stupid, but fuck you Compaq Presario M2000 this is not about you or the oil spill in the gulf (for once) or do they really find all of that “paranormal activity” on Ghost Hunters and GHI, this is about the issues facing me.

Number one: shingles, yep I totally have shingles and they fucking suck, so fuck you if none of this makes sense, cause if you had shingles you would totally be on the same page (page one). Number the 2nd: I’m gonna get drunk on good beer and not worry about the shingles. Number three: shingles, wait that was number one, umm skip to number four we can always come back to number three. Number four: good ass Belgian style beer in all of its malty goodness, hhhmmm beer (thank you Homer Simpson and very similar to number two, weird…). I would imagine that Duff beer pretty much tastes like Budweiser and that Duffenbrau tastes like edible panties soaked in kerosene worn by a four hundred pound chick riding a motorized scooter through Wal-Mart yelling at her equally robust progeny to get the Sam’s Choice brand 100 pound bag of cheesy poofs, cause it’s on rollback… you get my point.

I could probably make a Jack and the Beanstalk sized list of issues to deal with (who couldn’t, Sarah Palin, no big deal), but right now four, I guess three, beer n shingles and… beer?

Lets discuss beer; maybe my first interaction with beer wasn’t the most positive experience. Seriously, how many two years olds are going to enjoy an Old Mil poured down their throat by their drunk ass Irish Uncle, when all they really wanted was to finish eating their fucking scrambled eggs, take a dump in their Pampers and sleep it off so they could go throw rocks at the stupid dog and run around screeching for no apparent reason?

Or that second time, in eighth grade when you looked so awesome puffin on a cig and knockin down a Red Dog at the bonfire, but you could barely stomach that cold filtered, $5.99 a case, lagered travesty of an early 90’s trend, could you. All you really wanted to do was make out with Katy… but being cool…

High school was fucking awesome… come on living in small town Wisconsin in the 90’s, NWA, Tupac and OE Ice 800, maybe even 40’s of Mickey’s, could it get any better?

Yes it could, and it did. We are talking about The Beast Ice, FUCKIN ZIMA NIGGA!!!! and let us not forget the finest malted beverage of the day… MAD DOG 20/20 These were the times that tried young men’s souls, how could there ever be anything more important than high school, there is a yearbook for Christ’s sake!! a fucking yearbook, I mean really is there a yearbook of 30 something’s who work in the service industry (losers), didn’t think so asshole.

Truly those formative years have left an indelible mark on the masterpiece that swills before you this very day (Shakespeare would be jealous, probably cause my sister isn’t typing this, notice I didn’t say writing since that is a dead art form)… like seriously there is a fat woman wearing all purple struggling to her car in front of my house, she has three or four asses good thing that white Aztec is rated for tonnage! I don’t mean to get off the subject here but she had some sort of top knot, glasses and was yelling about having to go to work to a guy that looked like he just stepped off the meth train to Intervention, did he not have enough to share? What a dick.

Let us forget about my neighbors for the time being, I’m sure they are good god fearing folk ready to smash in an infidel’s head and sup on their gooey grey matter when the time comes, but for now they can exist in their crapulence without fear of reprisal from friend or foe until 2012 at least.

This is supposed to be about beer and my battle with shingles, but does anyone truly believe that the Mayans, who strapped boards to their heads to perfect that sexy conical shape of the swingin ‘90’s (1290’s) were masters of the universe, like fucking He-man? That is some serious bullshit Holmes. I’ve been watching the History Channel and they say that aliens gave them the keys to the future and shit… right... I don’t want ratings for my show cause the world is gonna implode in two years and those half naked aborigines are our connection to the future, fuck you then Michael J. Fox! I will make a time machine out of a Toyota… and the brakes work; if anyone knows about the future it has to be Marty, did you see BTTF2, AWESOME!!! That movie was so post Docalyptic. I know Marty has tourretes and shit now, but I guess if he could have seen the future for real, he probably would have offed himself too.

Awesometough

This is fucking awesome and it makes me tough as shit so don't even think about not reading this... fuck you.
Wow that was a pretty intense intro, but it needed to be done so I apologize if you have been offended
 you stupid pussy; maybe you shouldn't read this.
This blog is about day to day life as experienced by me, Randall J. Sharpe. It would be in your best interest to follow it,  because it will probably guide your life in a new direction and teach you a life lesson, like at the end of an episode of Full House when DJ knew Kimmy Gibbler fucked her over again and Danny reassured her it was ok cause everybody makes mistakes and Uncle Jessie and Joey got into some hilarious hi-jinx in their basement bachelor pad, but in the end they all learned a little and were better for it, Awesometough is exactly like that. This isn't about the best show ever, it's about life through my eyes (please note that I am nearsighted and developing astigmatism in my right eye... I know... badass) So please sit back relax and enjoy while I blow your proverbial mind with revelations.

Note: Alcohol will be used profusely to assist in the creative process so stay tuned America!