Thursday, August 24, 2006

Milwaukee: 'America's Drunkest City'

So I'm guessing the beers are high in a citywide toast as Brew City salutes its No. 1 status, as ranked by Cheers, Milwaukee!

(Thanks for the tip, Patty.)


Anonymous Bill In Milwaukee said...

Bill In Milwaukee here... reporting from ground zero of the scene of America's latest disaster: Milwaukee, American's Drunkest City.

As news of this disaster swept across the beer halls, corner bars and VFW lounges, Milwaukeeans prepared to recover. I decided to venture out and report on the carnage first hand, on this blog.

As I carefully made my way out through the devastated landscape, visions of an apocolypic hell filled my head; rampant beer can crushing against foreheads, broken jars of boiled eggs shattered on barroom floors, hordes of bruised and hungover barflys streaming out of the city.

However, the city seemed strangely calm. The brave residents of this blue collar town seemed determined to stuggle on, pretending as though nothing had happened. Children were walking to school, neighbors mowing thier yards and gardeners polishing thier lawnballs. What stout and couragous souls these Milwaukee folk are.

I pushed on looking for evidence of the disaster, when I noticed billowing smoke and fire down an otherwise quiet cul-de-sac. Expecting to see overturned cars burning in a riot filled street, I found only an old man, burning leaves in his back yard. I asked if news of the devastation had reached this neighborhood. Taking a swig from this can of Blatz, he replied that had read the story in the morning paper. "Forbes magazine.... what the hell is that?" he replied. "Ain't that a fishing catalog or something?" Clearly delirous, I left him to tend to his leaves.

Finally I spied another man sitting on a curb, head hung low, nursing a warm can of Old Milwaukee beer. Clearly a refugee of the storm, I carefully approched. He said his name was Carl, and while riding the bus back from his job at the Harley plant, the bus driver broke the news to the passengers. Many of them ran off the bus to nearby bars, or to their churches for the "blessing of the Bock" ceremonies. Carl was unconsolable. "What's the use of going on??? Game over man, game over!" he cried has he buried his head in his hands. I left him a couple of bottles of Old Style, to get him through the night.

large groups of displaced and newly homeless people could be seen gathering at the Summerfest grounds, milling around the beer tents, waiting for the suds to flow. Some said it was only the annual Polishfest festival, but clearly these folks were gathering together, seeking comfort and normalcy in lives turned upside down. Several could be seen staggering towards the abadoned Pabst brewery muttering: "Miller Lite, Miller Lite... all they had on tap was Miller Lite."

I'll be heading out into the suburbs later today, looking for the FEMA trailers, rescue helicopters and rows of beer trucks ready to provide relief to a destroyed community. Surely American will not let us down in our hour of need?

I will try to submit further reports, as long as my laptop battery holds up and my wireless Internet connection remains. Why is there smoke coming from the battery compartment?? Oh well.

Pray for us America. Milwaukee, America's Drunkest City will rise again!

Faithfully submitted,
*Bill In Milwaukee

8:32 AM  
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