A New Type of Blog Entry

As I sit on my patio with my laptop and a glass of wine (hope the wine isn't sacrilegious on a bier site), I began to reminisce. My mind wandered, and I began to see bier gnomes cavorting in my back yard. They looked oddly familiar. One was carrying a large sack of barley, another was disturbing my concentration through loud intestinal rumblings and expulsions as he marked his territory.

As they went about their activity, I noticed something intriguing yet puzzling. Something, or someone, was missing. I couldn't pinpoint the discrepancy, so I went over to them to ask. They spoke in a tongue that was totally unfamiliar to me; even with my vast travel experience and cultural exposure. Being bier gnomes, I expected to hear German, or at least something vaguely familiar. But no, it almost sounded like Dutch. It wasn't Dutch, but was more like a combination of a French accent, with Chinese sounding phrases, interspersed with something from eastern Russia. We could not communicate. So I drank some more wine, and offered them a bier. It took awhile, but once they understood, they began slamming the Hofbrauhaus Dunkel I had in the 'fridge.

After 3 biers each, their garbled speech began to make some sense. Maybe the wine was affecting my senses. As they began to walk away, I finally realized my earlier puzzlement. I was in the middle of a Joe Shannon story.

It made no sense, moved all over the place, and no matter how much I tried to change the topic, they managed to pick right back up where they left off. Ahh, I was about to go insane. Ever have that feeling when listening to Joe?

Fortunately, the story I was in was actually a dream. Joe was not really there. Or at least that's my story and I'm sticking to it. I think there is a moral here somewhere, but I cannot find one. I'm sure Marion's pizza and a pitcher of Budweiser for lunch with Einfahrt had nothing to do with it. Don't punish me bier gods, Einfahrt ordered the swill. I'm sure I will be paying for it in other ways for 2 more days.