sobering up on the red line

I will never understand beer snobs. This seems to be a trait that is limited to the bepenised, as I don't often hear the ladies complaining about lack of flavor and chutzpah in a brew nor do I forsee Muffy in the office down the hall opening her own little microbrewery in her little Lincoln Park habitrail.

I do have my limits and would never drink Strohs out of the can but I don't see the point in paying five dollah for some fancy-dancy German beer when this country makes a damned fine product for which this humble blog is named.

Pale ale, special dark brew, founder's island ancient lager, it's all the same bitter-tasting overpriced yuppie crap to me.

Popes seem to hang in there longer than most old people.

I wonder if this is because they have curried favor with the Big Cheese or whether they are dipping into the holy water on the sly.

Wouldn't you?

President Bush would like another 81.9 billion dollars to fund troops overseas.

81.9 billion dollars.

I think I might be willing to donate two thirds of my salary toward that figure and hell I would even vote Republican if Bush would beg Congress for even half that amount for something like say, AIDS and cancer research, better public schools, decent government funded healthcare for those who need it.

Instead your and my tax dollars are going marching to war like good little soldiers. Pony up.

I am not a Catholic but the practice of going out and consuming mass quantities of beer is something I consider to be a darn good precursor to a religious holiday.

Therefore I joined my soon-to-be-abstinent Catholic friends for a Fat Tuesday pub crawl and wound up covered in Mardi Gras beads and overloaded with giant two-liter plastic tankards of cheap beer.

Today I am feeling as if an entire church full of Catholics has congregated in my head and is singing GLORY IN EXCELSIS DEEEO. MILLER YOU ARE NOT SO SMAAART-O. NEXT TIME SAVE IT FOR THE WEEEEEKEND.

In today's headlines I see that juice is now considered bad for children and will make them obese. Hi-C and Kool-Aid are also culprits. I can't say that I am surprised about the latter given that its spokesperson is certainly no skinny minnie.

Apparently the only solution for parents is to feed children a steady diet of cardboard and crack cocaine so as to avoid having a fat kid, because nobody loves a fat kid.

OK. I will admit that I occasionally used to give half a crap about the lives of actors and actresses whose work I found interesting and would occasionally read rags such as People, US Weekly, and the like.

However I find that the tide has changed and I am now supposed to be interested in half-retarded coked up teenagers like the Olson twins, Lindsay Lohan, and Hillary Duff. I have never seen a movie featuring any of these little tartlets nor would I.

I could create a similar actress by pulling some hair out of my hairbrush, stuffing some toddler clothes with water balloons, and throwing in a Teddy Ruxpin voice box.

Come on, news media. Get your poop straight. The only people that really give a damn about these tots are young boys, older boys who have serious issues, older men who are taking far too much Viagra, and sadly disillusioned ladies who are desperately trying to look like the girls in order to impress all of the aforementioned boys.

It is a sad sad state of affairs when kids featured on the Disney channel are hogging all the press.

Personally I don't care whether your Ugg boots are lined with fleece, mink, Tempurpedic Space-age NASA wonder shit, Dick Clark's collagen, or Pamela Anderson's used breast implants.

I don't care whether they are the most comfortable things you have ever owned, whether they have changed your life and made you find Jaaaay-sus, or whether you feel like you are walking on sunshine.

They are STILL UGLY. Do you hear me? They are STILL MOTHERFUCKING UGLY.

If you own them in pink, then they're stupid and ugly.

This has been a public service announcement from Miller, reminding you that cold weather is no excuse for dumb-ass shoes.

Well hot damn it has been a while. I would very much like to come up with some madcap exciting reason why I have been so remiss in my blogging but the truth is both simple and stupid:

I forgot my password.

That's right folks, Miller is absent-minded and was too proud to ask Blogger for the damn thing until the urge became overwhelming MUST BLOG OH GOD MUST BLOG.

So here I am again, ready to regale my three readers with tales of life in the big city. I hope you have been well. I notice that the fine comments people have deleted most of my comments and for that I would like to flip them the bird.