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So then I walked into my bedroom after davening today.
And there was broken glass all over the floor. What? From where?
So then I see one of the beer bottles is broken. How did that happen? Maybe a mouse knocked it down. But–how did it get scattered all over the room? The top of the bottle is like 10 feet away.
Oh. I get it. My last bottle of cider blew up. Good thing I wasn’t in the room when it happened.
We’re glad you’re okay. Why that one and not the rest of the bottles?
Why that one and not the rest of the bottles?
He said it was the last one.
Popa, did you say birchas hagomel?
DY, but why now? And cider sounds dangerous.
Musaf davened, haftorah mastered
Popa went home to get plastered
Got home, the mess left him agog,
What had happened to his grog?
Got on his knees saw a clue
From floor to ceiling did it spew
Although he thought it a fine wine,
Fermentation blew up his moonshine
For bright young Popa, lesson learned
From one jug Ripple, which had turned
One more slice kugel, don’t you mooch
Instead run home and check your hooch!
ICOT – BRILLIANT!
Hence, the cold???
oomis–
Thank you.
A little motzei Shabbos l’chaim brings out my best ?
popa_bar_abba–
On a less silly note, B”H you weren’t hurt by flying glass or by drinking tainted wine.
I opened this thread,
with nothing to lose,
and found ICOT’s masterpiece,
about popa’s booze.
That stuff was something,
must have been potent,
to go and explode
without help from a rodent.
The moral of the story,
is to not be obtuse,
and use proper caution,
with fermented juice.
DaasYochid–
?
To chepeh Popa
was my mission
I see I’ve got some
competition
popa_bar_abba–
Makes sense.
I’m not a booze connoisseur myself – I’ll have Malaga on Shabbos, and maybe a bit of liqueur at a kiddush.
keep the rhymes coming ^_^
ICOT,
I had a screwdriver,
so I’m a bit wired,
although from poetry,
I had retired.
How unique! A popa thread with a small explosion! The majority of popa threads lead to a large explosion…
This thread of popa’s is quite amusing–
folks using the language but not abusing.
A bit of doggerel’s always such fun.
Let’s give popa his day in the sun.
It’s too bad the cider first had to explode,
and leave such a mess throughout his abode.
With his next batch of cider we’ll all be delighted
when he announces to all, “CR, you’re invited.”
KZ,
🙂
Hg,
Are you calling my art “doggerel”? 🙂
ICOT, brilliant.
Everyone else, very creative.
Popa, Thanks for explaining about the cider.
We’re missing a limerick and a haiku.
There once was a bottle of cider
With bacteria growing inside her
The pressure unloaded
Beer bottle exploded
Not caused by a mouse or a spider.
OK, that last line needs some work.
Beer breaks boundaries
Bar Abba bottle broken
By bacteria believed
I appreciate the title, Popa. There are few with as broad a range of interests as yourself, who can take a breather from long descriptions of complicated medical literature to begin a topic describing a cider-making accident with a line from The Talking Coins.
I submit that Veltz Meshugener is an altar ego of Popa. Or a blood relative.
I submit that Veltz Meshugener is an altar ego of Popa. Or a blood relative.
Or a descriptive term. 😉
T6T: Friend, actually.
Just don’t get together and take over the world.
Popa
Stop playing with explosives.
T6T: We thought about it, but he wanted to institute a theocracy and I preferred a hedonistic anarchy so it didn’t work out.
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