The Weekly Banjo # 16: How To Spot Beer People

This, people, is a matter of discernment, and discern you must for these reasons:

  • Beer people will steer you toward great beers.  Certainly, you will get drunk, but you’ll find yourself as happy as can be before you trip, fall, and lose consciousness.
  • Beer-party-macro-suckers will spend nearly 4 hours funneling MGD down your neck while they repeatedly, over-enthusuastically claim for you that you are having a “great fucking time”.
  • Beer people will find a way to get you a potent homebrew.  That’s regularly the good stuff, and you should be thankful if any private brewer deems you worthy (if the beer is decent, that is).
  • Beer-Pongers and Beer-Bongers will make certain that their sharpie art project on your unconscious cheek is anatomically correct.  Hey, that counts for something, right?
  • Beer people know where to go in a given city or town to get the goods, or at least get a seat at a good place to drink.
  • Open-Throaters think the Honey Bucket is a GREAT place to conceive an illegitimate child.

Here are some helpful visual aids:

These Are Beer People. And They Are Also Hosers.

Not A Beer Person.

Not Beer People.

Definitely A Beer Person. Note the Setting and the Quint-Fist.

Does It Matter?

As a successful drinker, it is incumbent upon you to find beer people and drink with them.  They know what they are doing because they did the exact same thing.

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2 responses to “The Weekly Banjo # 16: How To Spot Beer People

  1. Once in a while, beer people -such as ourselves- should go out amongst the frat boy chug-a-luggers so as to a) proselytize the beautiful and righteous ways of the beer peoples, and b) remind ourselves precisely why we are not keg-standers.

    To the unenlightened, this may seem pompous. Questions will surely arise; here are a few samples:

    Is there truly a difference between them and us?
    Is this not snobbery disguised as civility?
    Is this not classism disguised as culture?
    Is this not self righteousness disguised as enlightenment?

    In the immortal words of Rahm Emanuel, “Are you fucking retarded?”

    Voluntary piss-swillers would argue how much better Bud Shock Top is than Corona. “It’s so much fuckin’ better, dude!”

    And forget Hefeweizens -even the ones brewed by Michelob-, that sounds almost Communist. “You callin’ me a commie, motherfucker?”

    These are the kind of *ahem* people who won’t order a Leinenkugel because “I can’t say that drunk, man.”

    Need more proof? Fine! Evidence abounds:

    They do whatever Esquire tells them a man is supposed to do, as long as “It’s not too gay soundin’.”

    They order their Applebee’s steak well done (that’s a two-fer).

    The men masturbate to photos of Sarah Palin, the women to Karl Rove, and the closet GLBTs to Dick Cheney.

    They drive American cars. Foreign cars are “rice burners” or have “gremlins” in them.

    They typically know three songs by heart: 1) I’m Proud to be an American, 2) something by Dave Matthew’s Band, 3) their high school’s fight song.

    They watch “Braveheart” and suddenly they’re Scottish; “Fight Club” and they’re multiple personality disorder anarchists; any military movie and they were “Gonna enlist, but my parents wouldn’t let me and I’ve got this heart murmur that comes and goes.”

    They don’t know the difference between an allegory and an Andrew “Dice” Clay joke.

    They like Andrew “Dice” Clay jokes.

    Let’s face it, these YouTube video candidates are the new al Qaeda.

    So, I say unto you, dear Beer People, go out among the Old Navy shoppers and tailgaters, and drunken backflippers and try to show them the error of their ways.

    Bring them into the fold.

    Forgive them of their trespasses.

    Help them.

    And if you cannot help them, please do kill them.

    • Well put. I will add one caveat to the discussion: the coconut-titted men in the bed of a truck In Butte on St. Patrick’s Day are EXACTLY the people you want to talk to if you want to learn how to get sloshed in public and party frighteningly hard without getting killed.

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