Well, Punky Brewsters — After the clarion call of Cannon “goings on” last week, I must put off the celebratory Declaration of Sledgehammery and the self-back-slappy review of our foray into major (and not so major) media publications for another quarter fortnight or so, and say that, yeah, it’s a bit slow today.

Sure, the food is coming out of the kitchen quick and tastes great.
No news there.

And the beer?
I’m throwing back a stein right now. And if I squint just so, it tastes like a Sledgehammer.

Am I squinting?

Am I sitting?

Mmm… I don’t know. And I don’t care. But I can’t wait.

My frosty, frothy fantasies aside, there is one thing we haven’t touched on here in this blog: our killer merchandise.

Any self-respecting, “professional” beer drinker needs a proper pint, and ours is mug enough to go lip to lip with yours.

So, say you like beer. (Rhetorical of course, I know you like beer; plus, I can’t hear you) You probably like people who like beer. But with only a couple hours a day of “socially acceptable” sipping time, how do we recognize each other in the harsh light of sobriety? Easy: BEER shirts. About as subtle as a hangover at work, but infinitely more effective.

We round it out with an assortment or patches and pins for those of you who still use patches and pins.
And we’ve got hats.

Because there will always be bald people.
Wrote the distinguished bald man with the laptop as he wept into his beer.

Cheers, ya’ll!
~ management