Massachusetts 11th Annual Masstoberfest 9/16/17

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Hey Kids,'
So whether or not you can make it to Masstoberfest this Saturday, please keep Master in your thoughts and prayers as he heads off to Afganistan this week to do his part to keep America safe.

Keep your head down and your powder dry, Bruttha.

OK, you're a pilot. Keeping your head down probably isn't the best idea. But keep your air to ground missiles dry. And armed. And don't bring any back to base. I'm buying the first round when you get home.
 
Yay, would you look at the date! It's the night before Masstoberfest! Y'all know what that means dontcha? Yes! Time for your favorite bedtime story!

Twas the night before Masstoberfest 2016 and on Paul's stoop
Not a creature was stirring, nope, not even a Yoop.
But the smoker was stuffed full of wood with care,
In hopes that anyone at all soon would be there.

The pork butts were nestled all snug in their brine,
While out sat the briskets, ageing like fine wine.
And Alice in her sweatshirt, and Paulie in only his cap,
Had just snuggled together for a well needed nap.

When out in the backyard there arose such a clatter,
That Paulie sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away down the stairs he flew sorta like a flash,
Out onto the porch waving the paddle from his mash.

The moon on the breast of this bare chested fellow
Caused his neighbors to holler, scream, and then bellow.
Then, who before his squinty little eyes should appear,
But Bird, Cape, and Mort, begging “where’s all the beer?”

Big John and Dakota were sitting by the oven,
With Melana and Sheila, the token homebrewing women.
Faster than a flying unicorn from the porch Paulie came,
We all whistled, and shouted, and called him rude names!

"Hey *********!” “Hey, Masshole!” “Hey, misguided brewer!”
“Get kneading!” “Get baking!” “Get meat on some skewers!”
“To the front of them bricks!” “But watch out you big hick!”
“Put on some pants before you burn your tiny wick!"

Then, so bad were the odors that poured from his smoker,
It caused the neighbors to contact their real estate brokers.
But to Paulie's house all the cool brewers did fly,
To eat all his vittles and later ask themselves why.

Some time later, as we all rested and recovered,
About great tasting pizza on and on Paulie blubbered,
And the meaning of life Cardbob decided to ponder,
But who dinged his wife’s Charger was Will’s job to wonder.

Then Paulie's eyes began to twinkle! With winks that were so merry!
His cheeks were like roses and his perverted stance was so scary!
The pizza paddle was covered in cornmeal so thick
And his oven was hard, 'coz it is made out of brick.

The bone of a pig he held tight in his teeth,
While the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He stood broad chested, a trident in hand,
And raised up his arms, to flaunt his mighty glands!

He was proud of his cooking, an obvious entertainment hero,
He laughed about his friends who thought he was a zero!
With a flick of his wrist and a twist of the dough,
He created pizza so good, Sheila wished for foam that she could blow.

Standing there nekkid, an apron to wear everyone did wish,
To hide Paulie’s junk, anything would do, a kettle, cup, or dish.
The day Mommymem did save, she always rocks,
When out of her bag she pulled a package of socks.

Finally, out of nowhere Paul sprang to the top of his smoker,
And away we dispersed when he swung the fireplace poker.
We heard him exclaim, yell, and curse like a svelte little punk,
"Go home, and go **** yourselves, you big bunch of drunks!"

Happy Masstoberfest Eve y'all!
 
My wife (flipping through facebook): "oh, Paulthenurse's cookout was yesterday"

My younger son: "who's paulthenurse?"

My wife: "this guy who likes spandex"


Gold
 

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