Wednesday, June 25, 2008

The Beer Monkey






We have always attempted to spread the word about as many aspects of the Beer World as we can to you, our loyal readers and new friends. We have covered all sorts of beer related topics and shared the many joys that the wonderful amber liquid can bring and given a few random recommendations for what to drink.

Today we turn to the Dark Side of beer drinking and provide a warning for all who venture out into worlds unknown and who wish to explore the many wonders of the Big Night Out. Go in to a Slurpin’ Safari under prepared and you will come off second best. Or worse. Tread the path of the Night of the Long Lager without the right attitude and the results can be horrifying. Beware of the creatures that lurk in the beery shadows who would do you harm most foul should you disrespect them.

Some of these creatures are nasty and malicious, while others will do their very best to inflict some sort of physical harm upon your person, a sort of lasting bodily reminder of your indiscretions. But some are just mischievous and perhaps a little childlike in their attempts to befuddle you.

Beware the Beer Monkey.

Those who have met the Beer Monkey, like the brother-in-law, Chris, will tell tales of woe and regret after having crossed paths with this mythical imp. But they can tell the tales with a wry smile and a fond giggle; after the event. The Beer Monkey is a crafty foe; you will rarely see him until it is too late and he has struck. Playful and roguish, the Beer Monkey waits patiently for the drinker to achieve the requisite number of ‘beers down’ and then makes his move.




As Chris recalls of one memorable encounter; “After a very enjoyable night out recently, The Beer Monkey emptied my wallet and replaced the cash with a set of bongo drums. An unplanned purchase, sure, but a fine set of bongos nonetheless.”

Others have told of the mysterious acquisitions of late-night snack foods such as kebabs, falafels and ‘dirty water dogs’, on some occasions scoffing two or three when really only wanting one, and, in reality, needing none, what with the gut full of beer and all. Fortunately for them, they did not have long to wait before the karmic universal forces came into play and returned the said items with a violent flurry and an uncontrollable bout of laughter from your mates gathered ‘round.

The Beer Monkey can often be found lurking in the darkness next to dance floors at pubs, clubs, reception centres and function halls. When the unsuspecting victim has reached the point of no return, the Beer Monkey will cause unbridled mayhem by talking him, or her (but usually him) into a disgracefully uncoordinated display of embarrassing moves designed only to humiliate the dancer and, at best, amuse the dancees. God help us all if they manage to find the DJs microphone and start singing.


Feel free to share any stories of your own encounters with the Beer Monkey. I can’t help thinking that I will be able to crank out a couple more posts surrounding his cheeky exploits.

Cheers,
Prof. Pilsner

2 comments:

Boomer said...

The posts are coming quicker than i can read them at the minute. The Professor's strikerate is akin to that of Shane Watson in a 20/20 match at present. Let's hope the Prof stays injury free.

I believe that, much like Tom Baker, the 4th Doctor, the Beer Monkey is a Time Lord of sorts. I don't mean that he can regenerate his body when close to death (although after the beer monkey has been seen, i've oft wished that i could regenerate my own body as i feel like death...)but he has the capacity to steal time.

There are many occasions when I don't recall seeing the monkey at night yet in the morning I can feel him practicing his bongo rhythms inside my skull.
It is usually at this time that i wonder where the hours between 12:15am and "whatever the time is now" went.

the logical conclusion is that the beer monkey took time (and a bit of cash) and replaced them with bongo's and an early morning percussion session.

Beer Blokes said...

Boomer ... Boomer? Oh, Boomer from Boston! Of course! Do me a favour, see if the Yank beer is as good at conjuring up the Beer Monkey in his Lager Tardis as is Down Unders' finest!
PP