Tag Archives: drinking

To Beer be the Glory



Part I.

I am a spirit. But I am not a ghost. Though you should be scared of me too. I also take form. I disguise myself as a yellow, bubbly liquid dwelling inside cans and bottles. I am cold most of the time. I hibernate, I lurk inside barrels for ages waiting to be awaken and be sent to a mission. Oh, I am not yellow, actually I am golden. They say I look like piss but they eventually forget it when I possess them. I have the power to possess, I am a spirit, I am golden god (yes I am inside Russell Hammond when he said that, me and my good friend acid).

I’ve been around for ages and witnessed the world change, from monarchy to democracy, from Abraham Lincoln to George Bush, from electricity to fire, from bell bottoms to skinny jeans and from rock n roll to the stupid crunkcore. More often I was part of that change. I was at each kings when they celebrated conquests. I was there during every war that was fought, lost and won. I was at the Woodstock (most of my friends we’re there). I was with F. Scott Fitzgerald when he wrote The Great Gatsby, I possessed him, old sport claimed I destroyed him, but no I created him, he destroyed himself. I did not only create writers and artists but also an economy. Only God knows if I’m at the signing of the Declaration of Indepence, of course I am not allowed to say that. I could alter mankinds history. I am very powerful.

With greatness comes enemies, there are people who find me disenchanting. And that is hard for me to accept. Despite my smell I have this tempting effect that people find hard to resist. Maybe its because of my bad reputation. I have go down in history as murderer. I have said to have ruined immeasurable number of lives including Mick Jagger, Steven Tyler and even Lindsay Lohan. Well its not me who chose their paths for them. I feel dismayed with how they perceive my intentions. And one hater I had the hardest time converting was this girl, Allyn (wierd name for a girl, alright). She was a challenge. And this story is about our love.

 

Part II.

I watched her grow up, his father would occasionally share me his problem. Allyn would always watch TV in what appears as complete consentration but obviously things running in her mind that she alone would want to know. She’s an outwardly reserved girl, a perfect target. I wondered if she could still define reservations when she and I unites. I noticed her favorite author is Fitzgerald, a romantic, an easy target.

As a college student, pubs and bars are territories she shows no interest of. How can I lure him to my promiseland if she doesnt even come a meter close to my hang outs? When she graduated we got introduced often but she had turned me down each time. She got balls to refuse me, that is a kick at my ego.

Then she met a boy. All the flirting took place right in front of me. I almost throw my bubbles up and out of my bottle in disdain. Still she refused to take me in. It was the obviously lying boy she wants in her life. “Wait till your fake Romeo leaves you lovelorn Juliet. When all that tingly feeling between your chest and between his legs is over, you would plead for me.”

And as always, I was right. The little bastard left her, a damsel in distress. She needs to hold on. And she especially needs something to hold on. Even their relationship had become inexistent for her to grasp. And as Bella said, “the lion fell inlove with the lamb” or it was the other way around. I was the lion, I could eat her to destruction and she was the lamb too vulnerable even though she was covered by her thick wool of principles.

With the help of her trusted friend and my accomplice McDenver (they all have wierd names) she succumb to my promise of comfort, happiness and six hour amnesia. One night, I found myself in her hands. She was weeping. The first kiss we shared was victorious for me and melancholic for her.

After twenty one years of abstinence, she finally gave up. There are a lot of other things she gave up aside from her beerginity, her innosence, her reservations, her ideologies and her heart the most. I felt sorry for her, a precious girl tortured by the hostility of the society she needs to conform and stripped naked in helplessness by her love to a boy who couldnt man up and reciprocate even half of the sacrifice she made. I detest loneliness. It’s the culprit of it all. It had prisoned a girl long enough, she had almost killed herself to escape. Truthfully, my purpose why I desire to possess Allyn is to drown her lonelines away.