Sunday Drunky Sunday

I'm lifted troop, you can bring yours wack ass crew
I got connections, I'll get that ass stuck like glue…

When 3.2 is uttered in the future, it may be some average dude’s GPA, a minor seismic activity, or the collective alcohol level of the Slushy Gutter readership. For those of us here beautiful Colorado, 3.2 holds special number in all of our hearts.

Quickly, for our non-CO readers, it refers to 3.2 beer, which is a “lesser” potent beer that has to be sold in gas stations and grocery stores, where regular beer and liquor cannot be sold. It is the only beer available on Sundays, as the state’s antiquated blue lawas prohibit liquor stores from being open.

Until now.

How fun will it be to tell tomorrow’s youth of the old 3.2 and closed liquor store days of yore? How on major holiday weekend cookouts, you’d have to gulp down 3.2 beer in your buddy’s backyard.

How in your youth, there’d always be one idiot thought 3.2 meant he could drink tons more beer (because “it’s like fucking water dude!”) and he’d inevitably be housed by 7:30pm.

No more will we have to stand in a grocery line in looking like a straight degenerate with two cases of CL while standing in front of 80 year old Bertha with a bag of flour and in front of some dude who just got of work at Blockbuster who’s buying six Totino’s pizzas. And yes, watching that case roll down the item line with one of those plastic separaters makes me feel like a big man.

I’ll miss my wife’s question that is usually posed every Saturday afternoon at about 5:00 pm: “Hey, do we have enough beer for tomorrow?”

We’ll have to explain to the future young that the grocers, in their infinite wisdom, would literally stack pallets of beer in the entryways on the Sundays before Labor Day and Memorial Day. And using your Sooper Card to save 1.49 a case? Classic.

Tailgating on Sundays just won’t be the same without old 3.2.

So over the next few weeks, hold your 99 cent tall can of 3.2 Keystone Light high and cheer to the memories of your watered down friend, because he’ll be a relic of the past soon. By the Summer, when you’re enjoying your full strength frothy one, pour a little out for your old buddy.