Please read Free Beer Experiment, Part 1.

The other day I received a response from a secretary from Sierra Nevada. On a side note, you people that refer to yourself as either “Administrative Assistant” or “Executive Assistant” I have news for you. You’re a secretary. Now get in here, unbutton that shirt, and show me what a nasty girl you are.

She replied with the following email, she’s so cute, notice how she pays attention to the little details, like GETTING MY NAME RIGHT! I wonder how many oversexed, spank-me-Daddy, swing-from-the-chandelier hangovers were mandatory for graduation from secretary school. Funny, she chose to work for a brewery, how appropriate.

Unfortunately, Ken, since Sierra Nevada brews alcoholic beverages, there are several regulations which do not allow us to donate beer to consumers.

Laura Harter
Executive Assistant
Sierra Nevada Brewing Co.

Well, two can play that game honey. And what’s with these regs? You can’t give away beer anymore? What kind of communist shite is that. Again, I am reminded of why I packed my bags, turned in my hammer and sickle, and moved the hell out of the people’s republic of California. Now, VER ARE YOUR PAPERS! HOGAN! (See how I mixed 3 communist states in there? If I worked harder perhaps I could’ve squeezed in Cuba.)

My reply:

Lisa, maybe we can find a way around the regulations. What if I were to buy a case for $0.01? I think if I save for a few weeks and work overtime I can swing it. This way, we get around those silly regulations and we both get what we want. I get to drink my fermented beverage of choice and you get the pleasure of knowing that you’ve succeeded in helping out your fellow man achieve righteousness. We both win! Your path to heaven is paved.

So Linda, what do ya say now?

-Caveman

A simple “No, you loser. Go buy the beer and quit begging us for it you cheap bastard!” would have sufficed. Making up some lame-ass, mysterious regs as your scapegoat so you don’t have look like the bad guy? Bogus.

I decided to drink Sam Adams in protest this weekend. Good ole Sammy Boy, never let’s me down. Well, except for that one morning. I woke up on the neighbor’s lawn surrounded by beer bottles. My ass and jaw were sore and my underwear was on backwards. Weird.

Caveman Conclusion: Down’s Syndrome is retarded.

More gnarly posts by the Caveman:
• Free Beer Experiment
• Free Beer Experiment, Part 3
• Let’s Play The Dining Waiting Game
• Beer And Babes [PICS]
• No More Free Entrecard Designs