My 18-year-old daughter came home with the letters FACK inked on the knuckles of her right hand.
"What's that," I asked.
"It's the name of a new beer my friends and I want to make."
"How'd you choose that name?"
Then in her best VO voice:
"At the end of a hard day, you need a Facken beer."
"Give me a Facken beer."
"I don't just want a beer, I want a Facken beer."
I have a feeling I'll be working for her someday.
(Not that I don't already.)
3 comments:
I'd need one right now.
Finally home after a long day.
Furnice blew up.
Seven grand out the window.
And I don't have facken beer in the house.
I like it in a collegiate sort of way. Their spokesperson would be a Fack Face.
Not to tromp my Canadian brothers from down east, but I can hear it now...I wuz fack'd up wid-dat Fack'n beer geez by'e don't jew know.
In England there's a chain of pubs called Firkin. "I'm off to the Firkin pub, mate".
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