Jason's Stuff - Beer Holster
Laid-easys and guzzlemen, behold: The Hand Crafted and Personalized Beer Holster by Beer Outlaw.
Some of you may be thinking, “Hey. This guy is just doing a column so he can get free stuff.” And you’d be right; you’d also be jealous. Chances are you’d also be fat. To be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were cultivating an angry looking zeard. Look at your zeard! It’s making me zick.
This week’s stuff is a personalised beer holster, given to us (me) by our good friends at www.beeroutlaw.com.
At first, the Beer Outlaw Personalized Beer Holster seems a silly gimmicky thing that you’d box away in the attic immediately after your bachelor party (along with your free-will, sex life and hair; right, fellows? Ha!). But the advantages of having a bottle of beer strapped to your leg are as agreeable as they are myriad:
Firstly, with the right attitude you can own this accessory, like really own it. The secret is to bespangle your good self with a bunch of other shit first. Look at the pictures of my friend Alex modelling the beer holster.
Rings, bracelets, animal-print leggings. He looks like a gay leopard shape-shifter. He also looks like the dude from Gogol Bordello. In Alex’s case the beer holster only adds to his overall peacock-on-acid charisma. Incidentally, these pictures were taken at Alex’s favorite (and soon to be defunct) watering hole: Mars Bar. Which brings us to beer holster benefit number two…
The Beer Outlaw Beer Holster eliminates the need to find a dry/clean spot to place your beer when you go for a piss. Which is a godsend in any bar, but at Mars Bar in particular it’s the difference between a hangover and death by hepatitis. I’ve only used the toilets at Mars Bar once and it was horrible. I spent three minutes blowing down at my penis to deter gnats from landing on it. I wish this was one of my hilarious genital-related jokes, but it isn’t. I almost hyperventilated from huffing at my cock. Also, I was unable to leave the bathroom with my beer because it stuck fast where I put it down (that was a joke).
The third and final reason this leathery adornment is awesome is that it has your name on it, or – in this case – my Dad’s nickname. I had this beer holster emblazoned with my old man’s diminutive, “CROM”, because a: I know this is the kind of thing he likes, b: his birthday is coming up, and c: when he eventually dies I will succeed him, becoming the new “CROM” and the holster will be returned to me. Colour me resourceful.
Since we’re on the topic of my father, let me tell you a little about him.
Much like the Wombles, my dad enjoys “making good use of the things that [he] find[s], things that the everyday folks leave behind.” Junk, essentially. Last week we had a long chat on the phone. Here is a portion of that conversation, reproduced verbatim.
Dad: Hey, I haven’t lost my touch, man!
Me: What do you mean, father?
Dad: I was driving along the other day and…
Me: What did you find?
Dad: Let me finish. I was driving out to your grandma’s house and I saw a pile of garbage someone had dumped on the side of the road. I slowed down to take a look but Anne (Dad’s GF) said, ‘Don’t you bloody go near that shit!’ So I returned a few days later by myself, and guess what I found?
Dad: A perfectly good rug with a picture of…um… shit, what’s her name? Norma Jean!
(Let’s pause here for a moment and ponder the fact that my dad can remember Marilyn Monroe’s real name and not the household one she’s famous for.)
Me: You found a Marilyn Monroe rug on the side of the road?
Dad: Yep, and there’s nothing wrong with it. I scrubbed it with laundry detergent in the back yard and then hosed her down. Good as new.
The Marilyn rug now takes pride and place on the floor beneath the dartboard in my dad’s shed. Here’s another one: Driving between the church and the cemetery during his own father’s funeral procession, my father looked out the window and practically sang, “Look at that! Someone dropped a pile of perfectly good rope! I hope it’s still there when we drive back!” It was.
Anyway, The Beer Outlaw Beer Holster: it’s practical, it smells nice and it looks dead cool.
Here endeth the review.
Last week, Jason wrote about Mr. Zogs beach towels – the perfect coitus mops for the best years of your life. Find that article here.