I am officially a killer. A true cold blooded destroyer of all that is good. After years of service with no problems I brought down my beer fridge with one mighty blow. The ill-fated incident occurred a couple weeks ago during a well overdue cleaning. Instead of properly defrosting the freezer compartment I decided to speed up the process and attack the overgrown ice behemoth with a chisel and hammer. Bad decision. With one misguided tap the chisel punctured a freon line throwing a blast of gas into my face. I survived the gas attack but after several minutes of high pitched hissing my one time favorite home appliance was reduced to nothing more than a paperweight. The official death of The Beer Fridge. It serves me right for not having patience and doing the job right. To the non amusement of the wonderful Kelleigh, all the beer that once was kept in a fridge, in a corner of the Manroom, now resides in the kitchen fridge battling for space with the milk, mayo and cheese.
I bring all this up now because I've slowly come to grips with the fact that my fridge is no more. It's merely a piece of junk taking up precious space on the deck. What's done is done so tomorrow morning it's headed curbside with the rest of the weekly trash, sniff, sniff.