While the Cavs were putting a beatdown on that team from Canada last night, Indians fans were drinking Miller Lite. And drinking. And drinking. Lots of Miller Lite.
See, this is what we do in Cleveland. We drink. Indians game? Drink. Muni Lot? Drink. Sister’s high school graduation? Yep, drink. Grandma’s wake at a funeral home? Drink in the parking lot to be respectful.
I can’t even begin to fathom the skill and dexterity it took to build that beauty. There’s so many outside factors that could have contributed to it toppling over too- wind, bugs, unruly fans, the burning glares of baseball “purists” who hate fun. It took a lot of expertise to build that beer pyramid, but also a lot of luck too.
Kudos to whomever constructed that tower. I’ll join you in building the next one.
Any time you have the chance to make the back of your jersey say “McFisterson” with 69 as the number, you’ve absolutely gotta do it.
There goes “Fisty McFisterson 69” the man who once ate 21 dollar dogs, drank 17 Bud Lights at The Corner, and prompted parents all over Cleveland to awkwardly explain to their children why the number 69 is so funny. He is a loathsome, offensive brute… Yet I can’t look away. Fisty McFisterson 69, a man we should all strive to be.
You just know when this dude got done ordering his custom jersey he gave himself a big pat on the back and whispered “Nailed it” under his breath… Nothing says “cool and edgy” like wearing the number 69.
Runner Up for best jersey at the ballpark last night: No New Friends
What’s the worst thing about getting a beer at a bar? The wait. Usually you’ll have to fight your way through a crowd of 21 year olds doing Kamikazee shots or sometime the bartender is blatantly ignoring you even though you’ve made eye contact with her 8 times and have your wallet and credit card in plain sight and no one else is even at the bar… but I digress. This eliminates all that. No having to wait for a bartender. No having to feel like an asshole if you don’t tip when you’ve been waiting for 15 minutes. Just cutting out the middle man and having you pour your own delicious cold beer. The Indians are playing chess while all other Cleveland teams play checkers (or is it the other way around?)