I'm just blazed right now, but anyways I have a short story.. We held a party at our place a few weeks back. I got that kind of drunk you only get on special occasions--floaty, free, and flightless. Anyways we had beer on ice outside, and half of it was left after said party. The temperature dropped drastically in the following days. It was as cold as Isaac Asimov's cadaver. Within two to three days, the bucket of ice, water, and beer had frozen solid. We're perpetually stoned college kids, so it didn't occur to us that we should bother to do anything about it. So I waited about two weeks. I had just finished a long night of... well I can't particularly remember, but I did remember the new-years-party-time-capsule beers. Yeah, they were literally cold like the rockies. None of that refrigerator bullshit. I have a hammer. A big one. I brought it out of the tool shed, and I smashed the glaciery core away from those beers, and I pried one from its cold glassy fingertips. And I drank from its divine coldness. There were six. I'm on the fifth tonight, after having performed this ritual in my underwear in 30 degree weather. And I smoked a bowl of my new widow earlier. Smooth sailing friends.