I must admit, I was not entirely forthright with you in my previous statement. Although I only drank one beer, a cornucopia of the sweet carbonated nectar was presented before me. Twelve gorgeous, unscathed cans of hops and dreams hid within an insulated plastic catacomb. Had I not been rustling through the decaying tree dander this morning, I may have missed such a wonderful treat.
Seeing as the sun barely had a chance to open its eyes and stretch, I decided to show some restraint and only consume one of these seemingly abandoned cans of fermented dew. Aside from creating an entirely new napping schedule for the day, consuming all the beers at once might have also tipped the scales of karma against me-- and I'm already teetering on the edge of the balance as it is.
I may go back to sneak another one or eleven of those forgotten soldiers-- not to abuse the Universes kind gesture of revealing tree-beers to me, but simply to prevent the rest of the brews from bursting due to the freezing temperatures that New England will no doubt be encountering any day now.
I wrote this while pooping.
Think while it's still legal.
GoY's Pessimistic Soy Boy Toy
