Tag Archives: PBR


Everyday i feel like i am frantically crawling my way up to the surface. Every day i tell myself to not be a wuss. To get out of bed, that it won’t be so bad, that i could maybe cheer myself up with a really good sammich. Which you know is my ultimate goal. If someone could create a never-empty-fridge i would die a happy lady.  Every day i tell myself that it’s okay if i mess up, if i dont eat the best food, if i dont get everything done. I dont need to be on a quest for perfection, i need to just be okay with myself. It’s not saying there is no room for improvement, it’s why we are human.

Another thing i am tired of is defending myself. Especially towards people i really like. I’m tired of being nit picked, i am not perfect i don’t claim to be not even in the least bit but i accept your flaws, and maybe just maybe you could give me a damn break.

Yesterday i got hurt, my hip aches, and my cuts are stinging. My wrists are aching and more than anything my ego is bruised. then i shut my foot in Kelly’s car door…stupid door.

Now i am going to head home and pout and eat leftovers from dinner yesterday that i made. i’m very excited about it. since i havent eatten yet.

then i am going to make a peach crisp. and drink me some PBR. its going to be a salvageable night.

I will survive like i always do, another day. no dollar.


PBR is the new gold standard.

A look inside Henry.

A look inside Henry.

I’m struggling for something interesting to write about. I guess i should start with my unrequited love affair for beer and move on to less pleasant topics. or maybe i should start with the horrible things like ripping off a band aid and then move onto to beer. oh and PS Henry is my fridge. Oh and this post is also about Pasty Boy’s face.

I’ll start with the Neighbors. There are no words in the vast english language to describe these…lovely people. Starting at 8 am they let their young children, infant to toddler range. The infants sit in their strollers and watch their parents chain smoke and ignore their older children. The “grown ups” are so obsessed with flirting with each other that they don’t notice when one of the toddlers runs off and you hear them yelling for the kid, and than at the kid oh and than at each other…All…day…long.

So where i live the parking lot is old and rutted and crappy, kids should not be playing on it. There is a park ACROSS the street. i kid you not a stones throw away…a stone thrown by me none the less and i can’t throw for shit. Green lush amazing grass and a BRAND NEW playground further back. There is nothing for these kids to play with in this driveway, they are too busy being yelled at to be taught anything useful and the “parents” wonder why their child is misbehaving. I can easily tell you…it’s because you are ignoring your damn kid. They are mirroring you, they learn from you that the only way things get done is by yelling, so now they just yell right back.

I’m not saying i will ever be the perfect parent, i know i will slip up, but i have worked with enough kids to know when to take a break when i’m frustrated, to time my day so my kid will not be in my hair and occupying themselves with an old chain, sticks or garbage. It’s really annoying when people think that i have no idea what i am talking about since i do not have a child myself and have not really experienced child rearing. Um no sorry i may not have a kid but i sure as fuck know what i am talking about. I didn’t work at a few day cares and be a nanny to learn nothing.

Some how this just turned into me trying to defend myself, and thats the signal to move onto beer. Am i a bad person for labeling and judging someone by the beer they drink? Nah. I hold those PBR drinkers in high esteem and the coors light fans as people in denial about alcohol. They say hey i want to be cool and drink with you all but i am too cheap to buy the real stuff so i just pretend by drinking coors light. I’m kind of lost as what else to say. it’s a moot point.

To be Continued.