I’ve been out of the loop for a while, with all the Turkey Day festivities and post Turkey Day work, so I thought I’d ease back into the blogoshpere with a cautionary tale of beer.
Today marks my first real day home since the Thanksgiving weekend. This afternoon Stacy and I went to the store to get some supplies. In doing so, I picked up some beer. Nothing unusual here folks, read on.
My beer of choice in most casual situations is Miller Lite. I find it provides the necessary comfort expected of a beer without any of the gut busting side effects of “better” beers. Also, it’s Union Made, which satisfies at least one of my ideological needs.
We made our way to the checkout, and then home. After finding homes for all of the foodstuffs that will be making up our meals for the next few days, I opened the beer container and plucked an ice cold one from the nest. Immediately I knew something was wrong.
The beer seemed smaller. It did not fit in my hand the way I have become accustomed to in my many years of enjoying beer. Upon further inspection, I found that the beer was merely 10 oz. instead of the normal 12. What evil bastard could have done such a thing?
Miller, that’s who.
I felt cheated, slighted, and generally annoyed at such a flagrant violation of the 12 oz. curl that I talked to the MTL Comish. He just snapped back with some stupid platitudes before I realized it was an automated script. Assholes.
Buyer beware. The 10 oz.ers are out there. Be not fooled by the shiny container, nor hasty in your selection lest ye be drawn into the den of 2 oz. shy beer.