Beer! I just have to try again and again!
Is not so easy when you are a skeleton. 😉
When the monks started brewing beer in the Middle Ages, I was a remarkably frequent visitor to them. In my robe they thought I was one of them. I seemed to have just come from gardening, because I still had the scythe in my hand. There was always a beer. Or two. Or three …
Even today I find it difficult to pass by a good beer. It’s a good thing I never get drunk, because otherwise I’d surely have forgotten to pick up a few dead people long ago.