Warm piss water
The brewing and consumption of English beer, or "Warm piss water" as it is known in Britain, is a sure sign that the typically polite, warmhearted, and fairly intelligent limey that you see before you is, in actuality, either a raging alcoholic or a person of such rare gastric fortitude and mental deficiency that the entire Isle could sink beneath them and they'd laugh about it for days.
Why do they drink it?
The mystery of why pub dwellers drink this yellowy bubbling swill has confused the gentry for centuries. Nowadays the English cannot afford refrigerators or even ice cubes to chill their beer, as they spend their meager salaries on nicotine, sugar, Chinese trinkets, burberry hats (see chavs), and the latest fashions from India. But since the invention of refrigeration is historically recent, and certainly doesn't explain why Brits first began to down the dreary suds, a brief look into the fog of history may provide answers.
Legend credits Warm piss water's secret recipe to King Arthur. This may have been a way for its real inventors, likely a family of cross-eyed lowly peasants of the muddy-shoed and disease-catchall variety, to gin up its reputation among the prime collective of other lowly peasants, passing foreigners, and Londontown's glassy-eyed already soused citizens. As they slipped under the tables in record numbers, the thought that King Arthur and his Queen had a similar experience put many a wry smile on the faces of the newly unconscious and dearly departed.
The ungodly liquid received its second major promotional boost in 1905 when an obscure passage in a never-before-seen attic-found Shakespeare folio of King Lear ("If I knews it was up there don't you think I would have sold it decades ago, ducky?" the lucky 97-year old Esther Klopenduffer said between sips of slightly-fresh air from a cylinder). of "King Lear" quoted Lear's passion for the brownish-yellow as he drunkenly descends into madness:
Droth expelled ure liquid sunscorched, warmth unto thy tongue as thy lady's bosom. Bringeth forth frothy tall glasses roundeth purchased, tarry longe en drinketh hearty mine freonds ond foes alyke, for heofon's own be Englaland's flavour, Ealdormann ond mudhut dweller toghethar, aquiver whith Divine longing, entwine wholeheartedly ure Godcundness mandath! Flor byrthryth's destyny to shareth ov this steep, this myighty equalizer, this supraeme rewardeth flor living, Wearm pisle waeter, mother drinketh ov ure crydle, ure Englaland, ure own.
Another lift to the popularity of Warm piss water came during the perennial "War to end all wars" when Sir Winston entertained United States President Franklin Roosevelt and Russian strongman Joseph Stalin at the pivotal Tehran Conference. Both men winced, it was reported, upon their first ingestion of the brew. But, realizing that they were under Churchill's peering eye, and knowing it to be a test of their manhood, Roosevelt and Stalin grinned, slapped Winston on the back pretty hard, and asked for refills. It is theorized in some historian-infected circles that this seemingly glowing - although in hindsight, foolhardy - endorsement of Warm piss water by the three leaders of the free world led the English into a false further frenzy of pride in their national drink, and those who dared speak against it quickly saw the stars from a prone position.
A further theory: The English continue to drink Warm piss water just to entrap yank tourists. The unsuspecting American will enter an inviting neighborhood public house, be welcomed with cries of "Drink Heartly, lad" by the inhabitants, and order a beer. The bartender will then serve him a tall glass of the reckoning, but not tell him it's warm. The victim will then drink it and instantly vomit, while all the limeys laugh, pound their knees with their fists, and kick at the sawdust like they've just won the Derby. This is a sport played by an entire nation, taking millions of easily distracted minds completely off of a dreadful but somehow tolerable existence.
How is it made?
The day the brewer prepares the room for the sacred ceremony and teaches his apprentice the recipe for Warm piss water is the day yet another young Brit enters into an honored fraternity. Sworn to never reveal the ingredients, nor the exact brewing process, to those not so-sworn themselves, the weighty burden of simply knowing how to make England's superb national drink shapes the lives of every new entrant in this elite club. The humble few who gain entry into this whispered knowledge hold it dear, like an albino leopard. A few of the chosen, those who cannot take the pressure and must tell someone the secret - if for no other reason than to keep a loved one from the brew - find that assisted suicide is the end result of their doubt. But most persist, become master brewers themselves, and devotedly offer a life of service to their nation, their chosen profession, and to honored drinkers, former crocodile-wrestlers, and stumbling-against-the-wall denizens from all castes and customary guardians.
Then there are those of us who don't give a tinker's damn. Having drunken of the Warm piss water for twenty-odd years now, I am not long for this world anyway, and have nothing to lose. So here's the secret, passed down to me in the aforementioned secret ceremony abeit with hoods, a round of blood-brother palm spit pinky-swears, and the forced abuse of choirboys:
This is how you prove evolution: Warm piss water is made from potato pulp stolen from the Irish. The potatoes are peeled and crushed with the penis' of drunken and passed-out Scottish tourists, and then filtered through the pubic hair of soccer hooligans sweaty from a day of fightin'. Tis the true recipe, God's honest truth, swearin' it on my mother's self-dug grave and may God have mercy on her, dear soul, who is assuredly in a better place collecting rewards without measure unhindered by kindness nor objective reasoning.
There exists an ancient common joke in England - told around campfires or ladies parts - in centuries past and lately around pub stools, rugby pitches, and the Royal houses of ill repute. It goes thusly: "Canadians often try to make Warm piss water, but aside from their one remaining literate adult, a man aptly named after snow, they cannot understand nor tolerate the recipe. And even Mr. Polardew undercooks the hops".
In fact, no real Canuck has the actual recipe. But the fact that Canadians have a standing order of zero casks of English beer speaks volumes about the appeal of England's national drink in its most important American colony.
All beer from the U.S., as pub patrons know, tastes vaguely of insect pee. What is not well known outside of the States is that this is because, by law, the breakaway land's beer must contain at least 8% beetle piss, the premise of their only drinking song "When a body meets a body coming thru the rye". Some Americans are aware of this law, but somehow don't much care outside of their tony country club set, which imbibes homebrew beer containing only 4% urine, by local statute and club bylaw.
The most non-piss-like beer is good ole German dark ale, because Germans, the master race (something the poor sods actually believe! Please don't clue them in on the truth and ruin the fun of watching them puff-up and pretend), have very efficient brewers and scarily efficient kitchen equipment.
Warm piss water. The very name represents an entire category at most international Beer Judging events, a category in which no English beer has ever won or placed. Various brands of Warm piss water have, however, won the annual Champion Beer of Britain cup every year since 1978, an achievement which marks the Grand Isle's late-blooming cultural emergence and, in the pisswater-soaked minds of the poplulace, allows England to fully claim its rightful place among the civilized nations of the world.
English beer has, in fact, won an award outside of Britain. In 1926 the Island nation of Bikini Atoll held an international beer tasting competition in the gym down next to the elementary school. Warm piss water, the only entrant, ran away with first prize, as you may remember from viewing The Archer's 1949 film, The Bikini Atoll Triumph (starring Sir Laurence Olivier and Dame Margaret Rutherford). High points in history are born of such moments, and the 1926 competition was noted and celebrated on both a pre-war half-crown postage stamp and in very tiny print on the label of every bottle of beer brewed in England since 1926.
The London Olympics
In 1908 the expanded Village of London hosted the Olympic Games, and Warm piss water was named the event's official beer. At no point in any other Olympic games--excluding 1948--have the issues of incomprehensbile mascot design, public drunkenness, and indecent behavior of officials, athletes, and attendees become a factor. For it was under the influence of Warm piss water that the 1908 Olympians ran wild and naked through the streets. In fact, the Olympic committee had to pay millions of pounds in hush money to rape and silly-rape victims, children exposed to unspeakable debauchery, and to sensitive Englishmen traumatized by the sights of swinging genitalia attached to hordes of physically-fit males leaping imaginary hurdles while laughing hilariously and the dancing breasts of well-toned women, naked and off-balance, running the marathon backwards. The Olympic Committee somehow forgot this experience, and awarded the Olympics to London again in 1948, with similar results.
We can only hope that the Committee has a long memory, and never again makes the terrible mistake of bringing the games anywhere near London, England's deluded mascot designers, or its enticing but deadly yellow brew.
In 1912, as England's mightiest ship, the RMS Titanic, sailed the Atlantic Ocean towards North America, its Captain, Edward J. Smith, and First Mate, William Murdoch, celebrated the ships' successful launch with round after round of Warm piss water. The sole surviving eyewitness reported that Smith and Murdoch, arm in arm, singing at the top of their voices, danced and chased skirts port to starboard and helm to stern, then fell into stupor on the deck of the ship's bridge. The other personnel, not wishing to awaken the slumbering pair, and astutely recognizing that it was a good time to chase some skirts themselves, tiptoed out, leaving the Captain and First Mate to unconsciously man the bridge themselves.
Attempts to outlaw Warm piss water
Many attempts to ban English beer from manufacture, export, or import have been made since humans invented the terms "manufacture", "export", and "import". The Catholic Church saw the outlawing of British beer as a way to get back at the hated limeys for making them pack-up and groin-grip their gold-filled bags, authentic crucifixtion nails, and dark silky man-dresses, and cross the Channel without a boat. The papists tried for three hundred years to convince people it was both a mortal sin and an affront to Jesus, Mary, and the holy cuckold Joseph to drink from any cup containing "the Devil's Brew". This all came to naught when the Protestants and Anglo's just dug in their heels and made it "A Glorious Endeavor Indeed" to drink from those same cups.
The most successful (at least loudest) recent aggregate has been the European Consumer Protection Agency, which has tried to ban Warm piss water from the European Common Market (and later, the European Union) since 1947. Generations have come and gone during this campaign. Sons have trudged in their father's footsteps to take up the mantle of "Ban this Bomb", and daughters have carried their soused mothers around as props in their prohibitionist parades only to be shouldered themselves by the next generation. The result: Much mocking laughter has followed in their wake, and their cause has beenignored everywhere
but in the south of Mecca. Even the Royal family itself - continuing Winnie's tradition - turns a deaf ear to the pleas of these nutters, and on their periodic tours of the lesser nations carry casks of Warm piss water to present as gifts to heads of state, local landowners, and the upper hierarchy of the sporting class.
The famous Times of London broadsheet
When The Times of London recently issued a short editorial on English beer, instantly printed it on posters and broadsheets, and passed it willy-nilly throughout the United Kingdom, this veritable printer's-ink blitz was accompanied by proud whoops of joy and cheers of "Well done mate, well done.":
"If English beer is piss water, then to be that familiar colour it must have come direct from a dehydrated rhino in heat with diabetes. All other world monoculture beers do, however, bear a striking resemblance to gnat's micturation, and must be served cold to deaden the taste buds. The Times suspects that a large amount of America's sweet yellow is in fact recycled straight from public house urinals, and thusly responsible for the increasing problem of manboobs amongst their remnant neanderthal population. This American boob-o-rama (for Americans, who would expect any less?) is due to the high levels of oestrengentators in all American, Australian, and Italian beer, a chemical which is also responsible for changing the sex of lake born fish stocks and purposely heightening the voice pitch of unsuspecting barflies.
"So bollocks to you, ignorant Antipodean or Antisceptic minge nibblers, go piss in your boat. And before you sober up, pull out of your arse a fricking lute and heartily sing the praises of our English liquid stew towards the moon of your choice."
That day The Times of London showed record sales, and Warm piss water sold very well that eve, very well indeed.
- Real Ale
- Pets who imbibe of the warmth.
- American beer
- Canadian Beer
- When the clergy has just a wee bit too much.
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