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Between legal gay marriage and decriminalized marijuana, you'd think this Commonwealth of ours is as morally corrupt and Commie-loving as our many detractors would have you believe. I look forward to the day that San Francisco falls into the ocean due to a catastrophic earthquake and Boston values will finally become the war cry of the conservative talk show set.
What separates the myth of Boston as a super-liberal Valhalla and its reality is that we can't buy beer at just any store in the state. What is that? Things would be a whole lot easier for this kid here if I could pull over at the Shell on the way home and grab some beers. But no, not in this nanny state. Instead I have to walk -- walk for fucks sake! -- up to the subway station and then do that weird hand switch with the beers every three minutes on the ride home because I'm too atrophied to be able to carry a 30 pack of Stroh's ten blocks. Is there any logical reason for this? You'd think that the Puritans, who died out approximately 400 years ago, wouldn't still have an iron grip on our liberties, but apparently you'd be mistaken.
So to protest I'm going to walk up the street with just under an ounce of weed and gay marry a buddy of mine so I can get free health benefits through his work. Hopefully, we'll be able to lug two 30 packs back to my place for the reception. Woah, wait. I can get affordable health care through the state? Alright, cancel that marriage license. Still though, this religious beer rules shit is ridiculous.
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4 comments:
I was in Washington D.C. last week with my girlfriend and we found out a few minutes too late that the packies there close at 9 p.m., which left us to resort to a couple of extra hours at a faux-Irish pub(list; it's called Fado) in (their) Chinatown rather than a far preferable iced six at our weird Potomac waterfront hotel. Maybe that's the compromise for D.C. having a public transport system that actually works (Founding Father math, perhaps?). Unlike the MBTA (list), which caught fire Thursday, riiight about the time an AirTran skytube had deposited us back at Logan. Airplane vodka made the extended non-T commute a draw.
The Metro is pretty rad. DC has pockets of cool shit, but for the most part it's faux Irish pubs like the one you were at and dudes in khakis and billowy blue oxfords loosening their ties.
seriously, not selling beer at gas stations. fucking insane. these townie fucks, this whole fucking thing. fucking liquor license mafia, innit?
everyone needs to get their hands greased.
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