Or Bud.
Or any other brand of
Ice
Cold
Beer
Doesn’t matter what kind.
Wish I had a frosty glass bottle right now, to nestle between my breasts
Or between my legs
To alleviate the heat.
Or Bud.
Or any other brand of
Ice
Cold
Beer
Doesn’t matter what kind.
Wish I had a frosty glass bottle right now, to nestle between my breasts
Or between my legs
To alleviate the heat.
I’m drinking a frosty cold one out of a glass kept in the freezer. So refreshing! 😀
But I’m not trying to escape the heat tonight. With temps in the mid 60’s I’m enjoying a reprieve from the summer heat that will come back next week.
Our temps are still quite mild compared to the rest of the country, so I can’t really complain. But ‘hot’ here usually means ‘in the high 70s’ and yesterday it was over 90. So summer has finally struck in the Pacific Northwest.
And the temperature is, indeed, rising. 😉
You’re playing right to the heart of a guy from St. Louis . . . home of the King of Beers.
Sometimes I wonder about your town’s namesake. Was Louis truly a Saint?
Without a grain of evidence, I tend to think he was hopped up. On beer.
St. Louis: patron saint of Clydesdales and beer swillers; protector of distilleries.
King Louis IX was the patron saint of the French fur trappers who founded the city as a post for trading pelts. That was 1764. It wasn’t until the mid-19th that the Germans swarmed in, started brewing beer and storing it in all the underground caves that there are around here. They were the great swillers, as are most St. Louisans. Don’t know if they ever envisioned a frosty Bud nestled sweetly between your overheated breasts . . .
And now I’m picturing a legion of fur-capped Germans spelunking for beer…