Beer: An alcoholic’s Love

Inspired by Jim Gaffigan’s book “Food: A Love Story”, I decided to take a more adult twist and write a disturbed note to beer.

 
Oh beer, I will drink you cold. I will drink you warm. I will even drink you stale, even though by that point it is worse than drinking pee. I will drink you when you are light and provide no alcohol to my body. I would be better off drinking a juice box. I will drink you when you are pale. I will drink you when you are dark. I am not a beer racist. I will drink you while I pour out a bottle of wine. I will add whiskey for a good boiler maker. Why a boiler maker I will never know. I call it a kiss of whiskey; I will tongue you so fondly. I will drink you as a lager. I will drink you as an ale. Just get down my throat. I will drink you in Europe. I will drink you in America. I will drink whenever I can. You can never hide. I am your deranged stalker fan. I will find you. I will drink you when I shouldn’t. When I pray to the porcelain god, I feel like I am cheating on my true god, beer. Oh beer, you are the greatest wingman. I can never repay you just drink you and that I shall do until a doctor says my liver must go because it is more porous than a sponge. That day I will cry because of the pain in my head.  Until that day, I will coddle you like a child of progressive parents.