Beer Provided By the Company – What’s Not to Like?

Whoa!

Wait a second.

A news story just aired about workers striking at the Carlsberg brewery in Copenhagen, Denmark. When you think of a strike at a mechanized factory, you tend to think of one of two possible roots. First, naturally, is pay. Everyone wants the check – a little do rey me for the weekend festivities. Second, particularly in light of industrial accidents and the like, is the working environment – safety. After all, who wants to die at work, even if you are well-paid?

So, imagine the surprise along the bar when the reasoning for the strike was broadcast – are you sitting down? - Workers are striking because they’re upset at the changes made to a drinking on the job policy.

Come again?

The only drinking on the job policy we have here in the states is “Don’t drink on the job!” Seems the Danes are a bit perturbed because now they can no longer drink whenever they want to while on the job (they actually used to have coolers spread out along the plant). Rather, now, drinking is restricted to the canteen during their 30-minute lunch break.

Oddly, drivers are exempt from the rule. Since they work primarily away from the factory, they actually get to TAKE THREE BEERS FROM THE CANTEEN WITH THEM WHEN THEY GET IN THEIR TRUCK!

WTF?

The company says there are alcohol switches on the trucks – if you’re drunk, they won’t turn on. I suppose it’s okay to drive a multi-ton truck in Denmark with just a slight buzz.

Previous to the new Draconian policy change, the rule only stated that you couldn’t be drunk at work. I wonder how many accidents they have at the plant? What about beer-fueled sexual harassment? I wonder the cost of beer guts alone to the overall health plan costs?

Those of you who know me know that I tend to be anti-union as it is. This just cements it. I’m of half the mind to fly over to Denmark and become a scab worker, just to take advantage of the 30-minutes of free beer that I’ll actually get paid to enjoy.

Note to Carlsberg workers: If you don’t want your jobs, there’s a bunch of dudes over here that will gladly take them (oh, and the beer too!). Now shut the fuck up and pass the bottle opener.

Tweet up your drink order @RayHartjen

Speidi – At Last, the Final Chapter

For a whole twenty-one seconds this week, talk in the bar was about the Speidi breakup. You know, Heidi whatshername and Spencer whatever. The couple that is, and if there’s a God, soon to be “was,” famous primarily for being famous. Why they’re famous, I’m not really sure. It’s from some TV show MTV – the beacon on riveting intellectual entertainment.

Google tells me it’s The Hills. It’s in its fifth or sixth season, which means they’re approximately one and a half million idiots out there who get more stupid by each passing episode. Unbelievable.

Now, I don’t know much about Heidi Montag and Spencer Pratt, but I do know just a little to really not care for them at all. First exposure was a commercial when they were on “I’m a Celebrity … Get Me Out of Here.” Please. You’re only on that show if you’re such a minor celebrity as to not be eligible for minor celebrity status of contestants on “Dancing with the Stars.” In the clip, they were throwing a tantrum, talking about how big of stars they were, etc. Huh? Heard that Spencer wanted to be a Navy SEAL. That was until he found out that the SEALs don’t take pussies into their outfit.

Anytime, Spencer – you and me. I’ll fight you in back yard. Just give me time to finish my martini and it’s on.

Second exposure to Speidi was the news this winter of Heidi undergoing a whole host of elective plastic surgery procedures. Like 10 or something. I didn’t know there were ten different parts of your body you could get plastic surgery on. Knowing her, she got one of SoCal’s hottest new procedures, the labiaplasty. Yeah. You read that right. Plastic surgery for a woman’s hoochie. People, I can’t make this kind of shit up – look right here for yourself. If one’s not desperate to appear on a “episode” of MILF Hunter, why would one opt for this?

Anyways, we all saw divorce coming when news broke that Heidi was replacing Spence as her manager, replacing him a psychic, of all qualified people. Exactly what kind of management does someone like her need? Here’s betting that before long, the only work Heidi will be able to get is the receptionist at her psychic/manager’s office.

As for Spencer, he’ll fade to some trailer park, working weekend shifts at the car wash and turning tricks at night along Hollywood Blvd.

And, with that, we can turn our attention to more important matters, like inventing the discreet urinal to place in front of a barstool – there’s just way too much up and down over the course of a night, right?

Tweet me your drink request @RayHartjen