I won't make that mistake again. A few Octobers ago, I was at a medium-sized dinner party, and volunteered to be the guy who ran down the block to fill the three growlers the group would enjoy for the evening. The spot only had six taps, so I tasted every one, and came back with the three things I thought were the most interesting: a Northwest Pale Ale, a Cascadian Dark Ale, and a Semi-Dry Honeycrisp cider.
After struggling to juggle three (full and very cold) 64 oz. glass jugs in my lowly two arms, I "knocked" on the door with my left foot, entered, and declared my haul to eight very thirsty guests. Growler One? Good to go. Growler Two? Great, let's try it. Growler Three?
People, I drank Growler Three all by myself. Not all in the first night, but the semi-bubbled leftovers were all mine.
Turns out, absolutely NO ONE else in that group was even remotely interested in a hard cider.
I'll admit...that's a pretty unlikely photo to accompany a post on ManMade. But, bear with me. (Get it?)
It's a screenshot of the funniest site I've found this week, a Pinterest page entitled, "Hairy Chests I Want to Cry On," by comedian Stacey Nightmare. It includes, not surprisingly, some fine, manly chests, but the real gem is Stacey's commentary, including captions like,
- Elliott Gould. I want to shrink down to the size of a thimble & frolic on his chest like a young lamb in the springtime.
- Mike Rowe, I can't decide if I want to cry on your chest hair or lay eggs in it.
- Lee Majors. Remember the Six Million Dollar Man? They paid him by the chest hair.