Booze

I whipped up another batch of the old home brewed beer this weekend. Added a little Molasses to another existing recipe that I picked up. 2 weeks from now it'll hit the bottles and then we'll cold crash it for Thanksgiving, just in time to get my mother sauced and steal all her money. OK, I'm kidding there, at least about the money!
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In the brewmaster (do I need to point out that I am absolutely not one?!) spirit of the weekend, I'll toss up these 'Blasts from da pasts!'

Apparently the real joy of good living consists of day-sailing with Gilligan and Annette Funicello on some sleepy Minnesota lake somewhere. Well light my pants on fire, I'm just having so much fun!
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Note that 'Schlitz' ends with a 'Z'...see bellow...

Pabst...preferred nearly 2-1 by pomaded men with jutting under-bites and blue painters tape covering their eyes. Goes down smooth...

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...yeah right, smooth like a Russian mail-order prostitute, maybe! Hey Now...that could explain the under-bite.

When 'Malt Liquor Party' meant something soooooo different. Pre Kool and the Gang. Pre Bull. In the background there, it looks like they're giving it to the kids! Koresh followers maybe? Mormons? Don't Mormons do that type of thing?

Yup, finest swill in Milwaukee. You must be so proud. "I lived in Milwaukee, and damn right I got the hell out, but before I was able to escape the finger-slicing meat-packers and the long cold suicide-bloated winters, I developed a hard addiction to crappy booze, pimpy hats and capped teeth! Now I get my Blatz mail-ordered straight to my double-wide here in Polk County! BoooYahhh!!!"

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I have a rule...never drink a beer with a 'Z' in the name. Nothing good ever comes after Z.