In 1893, the average beer consumption [in Cincinnati] was 40 gallons for every man, woman and child – 2-1/2 times the national average. [From Cincinnati’s Rise and Fall as a Brewery Town.]
“Little Kings Cream Ale” is sold in 8-packs of little green 7-ounce bottles across the nation. It was the result of a request by Ted Gregory (aka “The Ribs King“) to the Schoenling Brewery Co. when the beer taps went down and his customers didn’t want to pay for 12-ounce beers to go with their shots of whiskey. TRUE
Fun Facts to Know And Tell Department:
[Via the US Postal Service Website]: The following live, day–old animals are acceptable for mailing when properly packaged: chickens, ducks, emus, geese, guinea birds, partridges, pheasants (only during April through August), quail, and turkeys. Day–old poultry can be delivered to the addressee within 72 hours of the time of hatching, except for Sundays and Holidays. Also included in the list are Baby Alligators, Baby Caimans, Chameleons, Frogs, Lizards, Newts, Reptiles and Amphibians, Salamanders, Tadpoles and Toads, and Giant Bone-Crushing Weasels. (Okay, I added the last one.)
[h/t Mrs. N. Mr. N. opined that the chicken chicks are being used as drug mules.]
Giant Bone-Crushing Weasels are estimated to have been about the size of a Jaguar.
Life at the Boeing Field Apartments reminds me of these classics:
“Gary: Landlord of the Flies.“
Goodman was also the author of The Best Train Song Ever and it saved Arlo Guthrie’s career.
[About the Title: My high-school geometry teacher could speak backwards, phonetically, and that’s how he pronounced “Golden Hudepohl Beer.”]
Tacky Raccoons 
I was on a flight from Riverton, WY to Denver, CO on a Dash-8 (or maybe a Dash-400?) last century. We flew north, landing at Worland for refueling. In this plane the cargo compartment was just the rear portion of the plane, separated from the passengers by a partition – not a solid bulkhead.
Throughout the takeoff and flight I was quite annoyed by the squeaking sound of several Styrofoam coolers rubbing together. Have you heard that sound? It’s grating, like nails on chalkboards.
Anyway, we landed at Worland and they unloaded us all so they could refuel the plane. In the tiny terminal I could hear those stupid Styrofoam containers rubbing together even harder. Then they opened the metal gate for the luggage chute, and boxes upon boxes of baby chicks came down.
The winters are so hard there that they have to replace all the chickens every year – this flight had thousands of them. The flight to Denver was blessedly quiet.
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Dan– I got nuthin.’
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