Noise in the Shape of Writing

Robert Burns is not just the only deceased Scottish poet of any note, he is also a great excuse to drink to excess! Of course, I don't bring my own yard-length glass to fill at the bar (like some!). I do, however, bring my own hollow legs, but I fear I am being outdone these days by some of my compatriots (you know who you are).

Last night was also the first time I've ever eaten a plate of meat literally swimming in blood. That's right, my first medium-rare order ever! (well, there may have been one last year, but they cooked it medium so it don't count) Let me tell you, it was amazing. But it takes beer. Approximately 2 pints per deviation from Well-done (which is how I ordered every steak from age 12 through college).

Here is the formula for HWPLHMD
(How Would Pat Like His Meat Done)

Using the HWPLHMD scale:
6=charcoal
5=well done
4=med well
3=med
2=med rare
1=rare
0=still mooing

HWPLHMD=4-P/2

where P=Number of pints of Guinness I've drunk by the time the Waitress takes the orders. So I guess "charcoal" is still theoretically possible if anyone ever invents negative beer.