I was out for a drive the other day, and I decided to take the path less travelled. Boy, did it ever make a difference. I came around a bend in the road and I saw this by the side of the road:
Now, it’s not all that uncommon to find beer cans in the ditch (there are still a few dirty, filthy litterbugs out there), but these ones were still full. Almost as astonishing as that was the fact that they were close to 10 feet tall! I did a little bit of calculating (I asked J.D. to do it so I wouldn’t have to, but she was busy) and I determined that the owner of these cans would have to be somewhere between 120 and 144 feet tall.
I was seriously considering climbing up and getting into one of these cans, but then I thought, “What if I drown in there?” Then I thought, “What a way to go!” Then I thought, “What if the owner comes back and finds me in there? What do I do when I find a bug in my beer? I just fish it out then flick it off my finger as hard as I can without caring whether or not it lives, after all it’s only a bug.” Then I thought, “Well, maybe that’s not such a good way to go.”
So I just took some pictures of the cans to prove that I really saw them and then I drove off, thinking about what a great story this would make when I got back to the bar.