This morning I put Barry in the fridge. "There you go, Barry," I said soothingly. "It's all right now." I like to think Barry understood what I was saying, but I'm sentimental like that.
Now I know what you're all thinking, but Barry was two weeks old yesterday. It was high time he went in there. Previously I'd just been keeping little two-week old Barry in my cupboard. What? No, of course I took care of him. I gave him an old towel and all to keep him warm and talked to him soothingly to give him sweet dreams. (Why are you all staring at me like that?)
What? No no no no no no. Barry's not a person. Jeeze. No, Barry is my two week old lager beer, sheesh, I mean, come on people, everyone knows you have to give lager beer a secondary fermentation at 0-3 degrees.
So there you go: Grown Man Keeps Beer In Cupboard, Gives It Towel To Keep It Warm, Tenderly Speaks To It Every Night, and Gives It Name Of Person. Perfectly normal. And besides,it ought to be perfectly clear you don't ferment babies like that.
Tim, your links stink, you fink!
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