It has taken almost forever fro me to get my hands on some Horns UP.
When I found out that I would finally get some off Tim, I had already envisaged me and a bottle of Horns Up coming together at long last, A'la Monet painting, running across a field, finally we two can me lock lips and finally enjoy each other. Meloncholy, violonic (made that word up) music swaying in the background. The two of us in love but taken to long to share. First sip, heaven, second, will I want more.
Then like all good things, Horns Up is gone.
Gone for now, gone for a second, gone....Wait I've still got the rest of the 6 pack.
This poetically licsensed post was inspired by those bands, that halfway through their careers became "arty" and stuff.
The Beach Boys and The Beatles spring to mind instantanously.
Oh, and there is more Coffee Pants, Ham On Rye and all other HopDog delectable offereings.
As the great Toronado Bar in San Francisco tweets every friday night "come get some fucken beer"
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