Pre-holidays. Let the drinking begin!

(As if it ever stopped in the first place!)

Folks are in town so my need to self-medicate has risen drastically.  Last minute shopping with Mrs. Zombie just added fuel to the fire so when we stopped off at my parents' for a little supper and convo, I found my need for a beer quite dire indeed.

Dad Zombie has not yet been turned to craft, insisting on buying Heineken (or Heine Lite).  He had a six sitting in their fridge but, since I know this is the only stuff he drinks, I didn't want to deplete him of it so me and Mrs. Zombie availed ourselves of the leftover beer.

Left from when?  Why, from last CHRISTMAS of course!

Sitting in the fridge door was Coors Light, Red Stripe, Sam Lager and Sam Winter Lager.  Winners all!  (Though I don't mind me a Sam now and then.  Just not one a year old.)  And none meant to be cellared or rather, "fridged".  And even this isn't entirely accurate as, at some point in the summer, I had to shut off the fridge to defrost it thus, allowing this treasure trove of suds to warm, sit for about a week inside a tepid fridge and then re-chill when I turned the box back on.  Yummy.

Now, maybe it's because I am relapsing and am once again succumbing to whatever illness has been plaguing me for two weeks now.  Or maybe it's because I was desperate for some beer.  Whatever the case, my beer (the Sam Lager) actually didn't taste too bad at all.  That and mom's spaghetti (which still tasted good though she's taken to using turkey in lieu of ground beef for the meat sauce) and I was starting to feel right as rain (whatever that means, but the Oracle said it and it sounds comforting).  That is, until they started telling Mrs. Zombie stories of their trip fiasco in the time honored tradition of  caroling rounds.

You know, there was this old man...
This old man who had so many carry on bags...
This old man with his carry on bags...
He had so many carry on bags...
This old man...
The man... this old man...

Time to go.  I wasn't feeling that much better and I couldn't stomach another iffy beer.

So we're back home and I'm letting my corkless Knob Creek work its magic.  Maybe a Tussin DM back is in order as well. 

It's December 21st, 2012.  It's not the End.  This is just the beginning...