I'm Into Something Good...Or Not?

I’m Into Something Good…Or Not?

The oppressive lifeless air had been hanging around for weeks now, the city was less baking, and more being slowly braised in the stifling heat. The occasional storm would provide momentary belief before sending the humidity skyrocketing and leave me feeling almost worse than before the rain. I walked out of work feeling flattened inside, craving nothing but the comfort of a cold beer and my guitar. By the time I had half swam my way back home, all I the energy I had left was for the beer. Pouring sweat I loaded the box I’d picked up en route into the fridge, knocked the top off one, and plopped myself down in front of the telly.

 Cooper’s. Can’t bloody beat it. Rolled gold. Then again, I’d have drunk about any beer you’d cared to sit in front of me in that minute. Even one of those weird pink Belgian beers, as long as it was free. I’ve paid for those types of beers twice in my life, and it’s twice too many. But lay a free one on me, and I’ll drink it. Can’t guarantee I’d follow it. Don’t like to think that I’d ever turn up a free beer, but in the case of the Belgian Pinks, maybe, just maybe, you can have too much of a good thing...

Kriek, rhymes with shriek (probably), which is what I do
anytime I realise I've ordered another bloody Belgian Pink.
"Oh no not another fucken hat."