You give me something, that makes me scared all right...

I have two goals for this summer:
--Make a ton of money at the Brown Bear.
--Teach myself how to cook.

So tonight my parents and I went up to Ludington to go grocery shopping because there isn't a whole ton of food in this house that I can eat. I'm so excited to start making some of the recipes that I've found online and in a couple different vegetarian cookbooks that I have.

While we were at the store, we had a tonnnn of cans to return. My job was to return the glass beer bottles. I discovered something semi-interesting. The brown beer bottles are dropped into the bottom of the machine, making a terrible glass breaking sound as they hit the bottom. The prestine, clear beer bottles are carefully sent out of the machine and lined up onto a table, and are ushered off into what I can only imagine to be "clear beer bottle mansions."

This really has no point besides the fact that I wondered if the brown bottles ever feel discriminated against, and maybe they want to have brown beer bottle mansions of their own.

I'll never know this.
Because they're beer bottles.