Bar Stories: Adventures in Alcohol

This page is to let it all hang out. complain, moan, praise etc.

Postby Polaralum » 09 Jun 2008, 15:40

Somerset! Can anything good come from Somerset? :wink:
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Didn't know they still made the stuff...now they don't

Postby Tremors » 20 Oct 2008, 16:27

My friends (That comes off rather "McCain" like huh?!) , Zima is coming to an end. :(

I understand that to many, it was a sad, even sickly little drink; metrosexual to outright girly many would say. :shock: Nonetheless, with enough Grenadine to sweeten the already sugary malt beverage, it was like liquid candy. :) Yum.

Yes, I too enjoyed a cold Zima. :wink:

Okay, okay, many cold Zimas. :lol: You could drink 'em down even faster than a Michelob Golden Draft Light; and that stuff goes down like water! For me, while not my primary libation, Zima was the alcoholic beverage that defined the decade it was introduced; the 1990's. :D

I have many a good Zima fueled memory at 1st Street Station, Desoto's, The Red Carpet, The Bird, as well as others. Of course I had many good times at those same places where, due to drinking stuff stronger than Zima, I simply can't remember. :lol: But I digress...

I haven't had a cold Zima in a looooong time. It has been out of production for several years now, but it was recently announced a new production run is coming! It looks like I’ll have to make a trip to the store for a small case of memories!
8)
Last edited by Tremors on 28 Apr 2017, 14:32, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby Tirebender » 20 Oct 2008, 20:42

My first beer was when I was in 6th grade, ah, er, ah, 1969. I grew up in White bear township my father was the Justice of the Peace. Dad RIP, I still love you. Anyway, John and I (John was murdered at Wimbys pool hall in 1976) My best friend got a hold of a 6 pack of warm colt 45 and sat out in his dads trailer and drank it. It was another right of passing. I had reached yet another milestone in my quest of being cool.

I have not seen a can of Colt 45 around. Does it still exist?

I did the Zima thing for a while but it alway made me want to drink tequila ( Don't Understand). Maybe it just did not satisfy the punch to head necessary to make me stupid drunk.

This country was made by beer swilling men and women. No other country (not evan Germany) can claim this. We are the champions of world in Beer drinking.

Good bless America. :D
Last edited by Tirebender on 25 Oct 2008, 15:54, edited 4 times in total.
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Postby Tirebender » 20 Oct 2008, 20:53

Polaralum wrote:Somerset! Can anything good come from Somerset? :wink:


Every time I went to somerset I got the crap beat out of me. I would say no.

Even the Apple River has to much Pee in it.
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Postby Polaralum » 21 Oct 2008, 08:45

Ahhh, the Apple river. Did you know that giant carp will eat Cheetos? :shock:

And those can targets!

Only in Wisconsin.
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Postby Tirebender » 21 Oct 2008, 13:13

Polaralum wrote:Ahhh, the Apple river. Did you know that giant carp will eat Cheetos? :shock:

And those can targets!

Only in Wisconsin.


Ya those were the days, I hung around the little rapids waiting for girls tops to fly off.
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Postby mykoo000 » 10 Aug 2010, 22:29

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Postby Tremors » 11 Aug 2010, 17:52

mykoo000 wrote:Deleted by admin

F U lame marketing douche-bag!
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Postby StanHilliard » 11 Aug 2010, 23:34

Tremors wrote:
mykoo000 wrote:Deleted by admin

F U lame marketing douche-bag!

google won't find that one.
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Postby Tremors » 12 Aug 2010, 17:57

Good kill Stan. Good kill! 8)
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Re: Bar Stories: Adventures in Alcohol

Postby Tremors » 14 Apr 2014, 12:46

Much Ado About Nothing

As bar stories go, well to be honest, this one doesn't qualify in the strictest sense as there are no bars involved; and my friend Aaron--alternately, and affectionately known as "Guido"--and I were just 15 and our other friend Jason was only 16. With the exception of working as disk jockeys, none of us ever got into a bar or nightclub as teens. Sneaking in would have proved pointless; as baby-faced as we were, a fake ID would have been a joke. Although a year later, the state of Minnesota was kind enough to send me a "normal" driver's license with the red banner with no special verbiage on the top as opposed to the blue banner license that the Under 21 set could expect to receive from the state back in those days. That afforded me the option to enter a bar or club and enjoy the refreshments just as long as the bouncers and bar staff gave a cursory glance at the color and wording on the top of the license and were too lazy to check my very accurate date of birth. Again, I had the option; I never exercised it.

It was Aaron's mother's birthday and the celebration was held in her mother's garage on 15th avenue in North St. Paul. Tucked into the dark recesses of the building, a frothy treasure awaited: Beer.

Our Mission: Liberate the Brewskis.

Step 1: Analyze the Situation.

Guidos uncle's stash happened to be located in a two car garage with a birthday party in full swing. Damn. People and tables and chairs occupying the space which was normally home to Granny's sedan made getting in and out cumbersome. 30 sets of eyes in such a small area didn't help much either. Still, it was doable. Cue the Mission Impossible theme.

We knew full well that the suds would be located by the workbench or storage cabinets on the southeast corner of the garage. We took our positions at the table nearest the search area but our efforts were hampered by the obligatory Happy Birthday song and cake ritual for our friend's mom who was, not so convenient for us, seated at the head of that same table, right next to the cabinets and shelving and within arm's reach of the work bench. This would not be easy.

Step 2: Execution of the Plan

I wasn't dressed for this clandestine affair, and I only know this, as I happen to have a picture of myself from that day. Dressed in a blue and neon green polyester pullover windbreaker was the screaming antithesis of stealth. Perhaps for that reason or perhaps because Aaron knew exactly where our aluminum clad prize was specifically hidden, it was on him to play the bandit roll. I was lookout. Jay was the getaway driver.

As the crowd milled around, Aaron made his way toward the corner while I remained at the table nearby. Meanwhile Jason headed out to his car parked on the street and drove around the alley behind the garage and waited.

It may not have been a tension filled moment of perfectly executed sleight of hand or high adventure with danger around every corner while snatching buried treasure, but with a bit of cunning and speed, Guido acquired the beer unseen. Scuttling his way back to his seat, brew safely hidden away, Aaron sat down. Under the shelter of the table, my friend slipped me our prize which I concealed under my windbreaker. At this point I questioned the payoff and thought about scrubbing the mission, but we had come too far, so we may as well finish what we started; with that in mind, I stood up. The crowd parted as I made my way to the big open door. Is the Mission Impossible theme still playing?

Step 3: The Getaway

As soon as I made it outside I walked around to the side of the garage. Jay sat in his small, white Subaru in the alley along the north side of the garage with the engine running. Some folks were hanging around nearby, but they ignored us in favor of the conversations they appeared to be lost in. Still, we had to be discrete. No sense in letting complacency get us caught at this point. As it turned out though, it wasn't too hard to hide what we were up to.

I stepped up to the car window and covertly slipped Jason the beer. He was somewhat taken aback, but he dutifully tucked it away, and with a bit of an incredulous nod :roll:, backed down the alley and drove off towards my house on the other side of St. Peter's church. I stepped back inside, and with a wide-eyed, questioning look, Aaron seemed to ask me, Is it done? Are we good? :shock: With a knowing look I reassured him we were fine. 8)

As he would later tell me, Jason drove by my house intending to toss the beer into the hedge by my house, but for reasons I do not know, instead chucked the beer out the window of the car into the hedge along my neighbor's house. And he barely slowed down to do it.

I retrieved the beer later that night, and it seemed none the worse for its abuse. I brought our hard-fought reward into the house and hid it away. I figured that the brew was well shaken and didn't crack it open that night. In fact, it would be a couple years before I did crack it open.

So why go through the effort to sneak the beer and not drink it? The brew was never found by inquisitive parents. It's not that we came to the sudden realization that beer wasn't a refreshing drink or that we had a redemptive change of heart about underage drinking. And it certainly was not a trophy of our hard-fought acquisition. Having decided the reward wasn't really worth the risk in the first place, it was hidden away and essentially forgotten. You see, our pirated beer booty was not a mini-keg, a case, a 12 pack or even a six pack, oh no! All that effort was to rescue one lonely can of Pabst Blue Ribbon. ONE. SINGLE. CAN. The very definition of: Not worth the effort!

Maybe nowadays it would be a fun trophy or conversation piece. Oh well. Who cares? It was just an old can of beer anyway.
Last edited by Tremors on 28 Apr 2017, 14:36, edited 3 times in total.
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Re: Bar Stories: Adventures in Alcohol

Postby Bigtime » 19 Apr 2014, 16:12

NERD............
Between two evils, I always pick the one I never tried before. (M West)
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Re: Bar Stories: Adventures in Alcohol

Postby Tremors » 21 Apr 2014, 08:10

Bigtime wrote:NERD............


Jealous that you don't have friends who would needlessly risk the wrath of their parents in order to boost just 1 can?

You have my pity sir!
:wink:
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Re: Bar Stories: Adventures in Alcohol

Postby Bigtime » 31 Mar 2017, 18:05

Boy this has been a while........ And there is a ton of old info and ideas on here? I wonder what ever happened to everyone? Havew to see what happened?
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Re: Bar Stories: Adventures in Alcohol

Postby Tremors » 03 Apr 2017, 13:28

It's like an Internet Time Capsule! LOL.

8)
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