Spirit Guide

Let me be your guide into the world of spirits. I assure you, It will be more sloppy than spooky.

Let me start by saying that I consider myself somewhat of a beer snob. I admit this freely. That ass-clown that is staring down his nose at you while you enjoy your cold bottle of Bud (or, don’t get crazy, Landshark), and smirking? Me. The fermented elitist who, if given the opportunity, will explain to you why your beer is sub-standard swill? Me again. I’ve tried more than a hundred different beers, (normal domestics not included) and have the bottles to prove it. I’ve sampled some truly good brews, and I’ve actually thrown out a few due to their utterly horrible taste. I can tell you what’s good. I can tell you how much it costs. I can tell you what to avoid. And, best of all, I can tell you which ones will give you a throbbing, apocalyptic, hangover.

But. I’ve got to get something right out of the way, here in first issue of this series, because dark secrets have a way of coming back to bite you in the ass.  Everybody reading this remembers the end of 8-Mile, (and you all do, because it is only reasonable for me to assume that we have seen and remember the same movies) where the leader of the New World lost all of his street-cred when rabbit outed his private school upbringing. I’m not going to let that happen to me. I’m going to be more like Rabbit, and tell you my secret straight-up, so you can’t throw it in my face later on.

Uh-huh. So, here it is, my humiliating admission. Sometimes, more often than I would like to admit, I indulge in Watermelon Four Loko.

It’s glowing like that because of the radiation.

Okay, okay. I know, all right?  It’s awful. And I am an awful person for liking it. But, do you remember that girl from high school? The easy one who always tasted like candy and never gave you any real problems as long as you accepted the fact that she was not yours and yours alone? The one who could really fuck you up? This is her. In a can. And not the same can you left her in, either.

What’s that you say?

Okay, I guess I’ll give you that. But here’s the thing, Shit is strong. At 12% alcohol by volume in a 24-oz. can, it’s like drinking six miller light bottles back to back. And, it tastes like a watermelon Jolly Rancher! (Provided that you chase your Jolly Ranchers with a hint of rubbing alcohol). And the price? What? Big can is cheap! We’re in a recession, people! I heard somebody say so on the news.

The effect is staggering and It’s ridiculously easy to drink. Plus, It’s got caffeine and taurine in it, so it’s like an energy drink! Yay! Let’s go rob the cops!

‘Sere a problem, ossifer?

So yeah, I drink it. And I’m going to keep drinking it. And you can say whatever you want. But if I see you putting that lemon wedge in the top of your Blue Moon, we’re both going to get Broadway tickets, dig it? Here’s the rundown:

Taste: Like pixie stick liquid.

Drinkability: Easier than a truck-stop hooker.

Alcohol content: 12%

Cost: ‘Bout two fiddy.

Hangover rating: Your head might hurt, but then again, if you drink more than two, you’ll probably wake up in a third-world country missing your pants and your liver, so that’s the least of your worries.

Overall effect: Devastating.

One Response to “Spirit Guide”

  1. Sure, make fun of my Blue Moon. Ass clown.

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