Momma Didn’t Raise No Quitter

September 4, 2007 on 3:42 pm | In Opinionated Bastard | No Comments

How often has this happened to you: You buy a beer at your local deli or liquor store, you bring it home and pour it into your favorite glass, only to find a sopping wet kitten in place of the usual fermented mixture of hops, malt, water and yeast. And then what do you do? Call up the nearest animal shelter? Call it “Jalboath,” build a shrine to it and start making regular blood sacrifices in its unholy name? Or do you just jam a straw in there and start sucking out the insides??

Well, no more will such dilemmas leave you soured and nonplussed at the end of a 12-hour shit-shoveling shift. No longer need you purchase beer and malt beverages in a state of babe-like ignorance. Now me guide you in your search for the perfect carbonated adult beverage. Yes, your prayers have been answered. No need to thank me – just sit back and enjoy!

Modelo Especial

Yellow Mexican pisswater. Tastes like watered-down Corona. It’s a lightweight, like a great Mexican boxer refusing to go down. Daddy likes. Oh and it’s Mexican… mee, hee, cannnn.

 

Brooklyn Pilsner
Ugg. Thick, wheaty and gross like I bit into grandpa’s armpit. The only good thing to come out of Brooklyn was the F train to Delancey.
Peroni   

It smells like skunk farts and tastes like muskrat vomit and both for me are strangely appealing yet still appalling. Stupid fascist beer.

Bacardi O3   

It’s like going to Newport Beach and meeting this blonde California girl and she’s not smart but you fool yourself that you’re being overly judgmental so you indulge her back at your hotel or motel or friend’s bedroom and afterwards you tell her you’ll call her and you never do, and all you have left is her hair on your pillow and the smell of oranges and her saliva on your fingers and you taste it and I bet it tastes just like Bacardi O3.

Birra Moretti   

Buy this beer for the sad little drunken Italian man on the label wearing a green Mafia suit and a reverse Hitler moustache. It tastes pretty good – a tad nutty, which may get annoying after a while, but good enough for the Italian leprechaun who just caught his wife cheating on him with Pepito the sausagemaker. If you’re sad and want to die this is your brew – if you want to snort coke and listen to British Sea Power all night, pick up something lighter.

Presidente   

If there’s a good reason the Haitians hate the Dominicans, I suspect a large part of the blame falls on the fact that Presidente cerveza is crap in a green bottle. Even the graphic on the label sucks, so you can’t look cool if you’re drinking it. Said label states that the contents are made with “a fine selection of malted barley hops and corn grits…” what the fuck are corn grits?? This beer is bitter and flat and watery. I’d rather drink the dregs of someone else’s forty.

Beck’s

Not good, not bad, just Beck’s. The name says it all: “Beck’s,” like a fart that doesn’t stink. You know it’s a fart but it doesn’t smell like a fart… that is a Beck.
Tsingtao

As soon as one of us round-eyes tasted this beer we were like “Uh, what the fuck is this?” At first there was a peculiar aftertaste of blood (just keep telling yourself it’s rust) Then you go into the weird-ass taste of it and your tongue goes “fuck it, I give up,” and everything tastes funny afterwards.
Molson Canadian   

This beer is like a Canadian runway model. The packaging is awesome, the first taste is refreshing, but once this canuck opens up her mouth and that horrific accent spews out, you’re all like, “She’s hot but I can’t get over that accent,” but then you make the beast with two backs anyway because you figure you’ll get used to it and just deal with her sounding like the Kids in the Hall.

J.W. Dundee’s Honey Brown Lager   

Remember going to those family picnics? Your aunt would make some kickass potato salad and your dad would pop open a nice cool lager, but then the honeybees would come and shit in it or drown in it. But he wouldn’t notice, and you’re all like, “Drink it! Drink it all you fucker!” Because you’re hoping he’ll swallow a bee and it’ll sting him in the uvula. Well, I bet that beer tasted great, ’cause this one sure does. Who would’ve thought bee shit and beer would be a winning combo?

Harp Lager

Harp’s good. I bet Harpo would drink it all the fucking time, then go out all shitfaced and piss people off by honking his horn/walking stick at them or pickpocketing them and filling their pockets up with mashed bananas or ostrich eggs and then grabbing the ass of some fat chick that Groucho was making a pass at. “That’s-a so nice, Punchy.”
Smirnoff Ice   

It’s Fresca and Vodka, yay! It reminds me of those hot Russian girls that live on Brighton Beach and carry fake Prada bags and wear too much eyeliner and go clubbing way too much and make your life harder than a loaf of government-issue bread. But it’s all worth it because all those ladies know how to party.

Anheuser World Select

Beer for corporate dorks. It’s like taking some poor white trash guest from the Jerry Springer Show and dressing him up in H&M clothing and maybe fixing up his grill but underneath all that great looking cotton is still a man who dumped his 200lb. girlfriend for a 300lb. transvestite. Be good to yourselves and each other and don’t buy this swill.
Old Speckled Hen

What a weird name – it reminds me of an old guy’s balls, all saggy and stained with liver spots. This ale is bitter like a British streetwalker, or the Queen Mother. But you get used to its stern taste when accompanied by some greasy grub. Still, I don’t dare drink this every day. It’s a definite “right time and place for everything” kind of brew. It smells like the amalgamation of several spilled beers on the hardwood floor of a New York concerthall and tastes like a soul kiss from Prince Charles.
Tiger

I’m the guy that takes one for the team. That is to say I drink the beers that make the beer drinkers cry. Most of the time my tastebuds curse me. However, there is that rare occasion when what I think will be the beer that will be the end of me turns out to be a great beer. A fucking stellar beer brewed in Singapore, I found this one way in the back of a Bangladeshi deli’s fridge, behind all the Molson and Sam Adams. The label had a menacing tiger on it and the cap was rusted. My expectations at an all-time low, my biggest concern was about the possibility of contracting lockjaw. I was surprised and relieved to find a good-tasting lager. Amaze your friends by buying a beer they would never have the balls to try, and they will forever be impressed with your knowledge of obscure alcoholic beverages.
  Elephant   

I, King of Danes, hereby proclaimeth that Our Royal Hamlet of LaBatt shall set about the procurement of the most vile-tasting of malts and the most odiferous of barley in order to create for Us a Libation so awful that none of Our enemies and foes shall ever venture hither forth and kick the living bejesus out of thy Asses, for fear of being compelled to quaff such a disagreeable Concoction whilst remaining within the Borders of Our noble Land.

  LaBatt Blue Light Pilsner

LaButt makes bad beer. This one tastes like Bud Light but slightly sweeter and makes your burps smellier. If Bud is the King of beers this is definitely the Princess. Three cheers for LaButt: hip hip, you suck, hip hip, you suck, hip hip, you suck!

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