You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy!
It’s chickens clucking and loin cloths flying and monkeys throwing banana pudding excrement.
It was like ringing one of those metal triangles on an old west porch and screaming “come and get it!”
And get it they did, by the case load.
According to published reports, the entire village, every man, woman and child starting guzzling beer as if it was nectar of the Gods.
Had it been Nectar, maybe the villagers would have achieved some sense of enlightenment, some sense of higher power. Instead, they only achieved drunken debauchery and the SAT scores of drunken UCLA Freshman.
Can you imagine if this happened in the neighborhood where you live? Would everyone on Main Street rush the truck with pitch forks as if they were trying to drive the Frankenstein Monster back into the bog. Would Mrs. Johnson rip off a beer cap with her eye tooth and begin tossing one back. Would Pastor Johnson start swigging brewskis like he was trying to quell a fire in his belly? No. He would call 911 and then rush to the aid of the driver. If there were looters, he would probably fight them off with his cross and bible. That’s what sensible Americans do.
So what is about a village, a beer truck and New Guinea that makes people achieve the IQ of a rock?
Superintendent Joseph Tondop told the National newspaper his officers had to disperse crowds of drunks who had gathered on the road to harass passers-by.
Harass Passerbys? What happened to kicking back in a hammock and slowly drinking yourself into oblivion. Whatever happened to a good ole fashioned game of beer pong? Harass Passerbys? drunks in New Guinea are losers?
Another eyewitness told the newspaper that almost everyone from three nearby villages was intoxicated.
Hey when a beer truck splits wide open, that’s surely a sign from God. A heavenly message telling you to stop what you are doing, throw sensibility into the wood chipper and simply start drinking. If you get drunk, then more power to you. In New Guinea, it must be God’s will.
Superintendent Tondop said he hopes common sense will return when everyone sobers up.
Dream on Superintendent Tondop. Nobody sobers up on this island until each beer bottles burps up cob webs.
That’s an idealistic dream, until the next beer truck comes around the bend and flips. And the New Guinea drunks return with their pitch forks, and dental work that doubles as beer openers.
And that is crazy.