As the cosmos pirouettes, galaxies twirl like tipsy dancers in the boundless expanse of space, we find ourselves facing the eternal puzzle: where shall we sip from the divine elixir that is beer? This question, dear comrades, is not just about geographical coordinates, but a quest for enlightenment in a world veiled by the mist of bewilderment.

Imagine a universe where time rewinds and sidesteps, where the laws of physics frolic like intoxicated acrobats on a cosmic tightrope. In this topsy-turvy domain, the simple act of quenching one’s thirst morphs into a metaphysical odyssey, a voyage to the core of the human condition.

Shall we seek sanctuary in the solemn chambers of a monastery, where monks brew beer with the meticulousness of alchemists transmuting base elements into gold? Here, amid the reverent silence of prayer and reflection, we may find not merely solace for the body, but sustenance for the soul.

Or perchance, we should venture into the wilderness, where recluses and mystics commune with nature and brew beer with the veneration of druids performing ancient rites. In the sanctified groves where trees whisper secrets to the breeze, we may uncover the genuine essence of communion, as we share a pint with the spirits of earth and sky.

Yet, let us not be ensnared by the illusions of terrestrial existence, for beyond the bounds of time and space lies the domain of the divine. In the celestial realms where angels cavort on pinheads and seraphim hymn praises, there exists a tavern unlike any other, where beer cascades like rivers of liquid gold and the laughter of deities reverberates through the corridors of eternity.

And what of the moral parables concealed within the frothy depths of our favored brews? Each sip becomes sacramental, a reminder of our intrinsic divinity and our capability for both folly and redemption. From the acrid drafts of transgression to the saccharine ambrosia of grace, every draught encapsulates the essence of the human saga, distilled into its purest form.

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Nonsence? Think it’s gibberish? Doesn’t matter, no one really reads WRITE UP seriously anyway, these don’t matter, what matters is below:

Hares: 2 Hot 2 Handle, Beaver Fucker

Type: A to B (Bag Drop Not Available)

When: April 13th, Saturday, 2024

Time: Meet at 2:30pm, run starts at 3pm sharp.

Hash Cash: 30 RMB for run, walk and circle 105 RMB for run, walk, circle and dinner

Where: 四惠-A东南口 – Subway line 1, Sihui station

D’Erections:  Take Exit A from Subway line 1 Sihui station. Then walk up onto the pedestrian bridge. Meeting point in the middle of the bridge.

Restaurant:邱记五常粗粮农家菜(百子湾店)

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