booze: April 2008 Archives
Yeah, so I haven't posted in a bit. Argh. Lots of crap happening. Also, I write for a living, and sometimes I'm just plum out of funny, incredibly insightful sentences by the time I open this window and a nice bottle of Australian Shiraz (read: Cuervo Classico). When I washed dishes to pay the rent, my sink at home looked like a recreation of Pompeii grown organically in my own oversized petri dish.
Anyhoo, Terminator 2: Judgment Day has been on AMC this week, which reminded me of a humorous anecdote. I originally saw the movie in a theater on the south side of Tampa that showed first-run flicks for a buck. My old roommate and I scored a pint of Jack Daniel's for the packed opening-night event. We bought our Cokes at the counter and were lucky enough to find two seats right next to one another after fortifying our beverages in the restroom.
As the lights dimmed and previews rolled, the large young guy to my right leaned over and said to me:
"That's one strong whiskey and Coke, brother. I can smell it."
The dude didn't look like he was complaining about it, so I asked him if he wanted a sip.
"No thanks," he replied. "I'm tripping my balls off."
Anyhoo, Terminator 2: Judgment Day has been on AMC this week, which reminded me of a humorous anecdote. I originally saw the movie in a theater on the south side of Tampa that showed first-run flicks for a buck. My old roommate and I scored a pint of Jack Daniel's for the packed opening-night event. We bought our Cokes at the counter and were lucky enough to find two seats right next to one another after fortifying our beverages in the restroom.
As the lights dimmed and previews rolled, the large young guy to my right leaned over and said to me:
"That's one strong whiskey and Coke, brother. I can smell it."
The dude didn't look like he was complaining about it, so I asked him if he wanted a sip.
"No thanks," he replied. "I'm tripping my balls off."
Well, it seems that Anheuser-Busch has decided to follow the visionary trend of taking a crappy beer that tastes pretty much like nothing, and adding some citrus to make it taste a little like what cheap people in cheap restaurants do to tap water in the name of fooling themselves. This is obviously the latest attempt to capture the interest of that fraction of the drinking public that doesn't like beer (read: fifteen-year-old girls, some rich and/or really image-invested gay dudes), and is waiting impatiently for the next rung of the wine cooler-to-Zima-to-Mike's Hard Whatever-to-Bacardi Silver evolutionary ladder to appear on the horizon.
Now, I've been known to drink Bud Light on occasion - and by "on occasion," I mean when it's free, or almost free, or I'm buying beer for several heavy drinkers, or when I'm so broke it's all I can afford to drink and still tip. I don't mind drinking cheap beer. But that's what Bud Light is. It's a utility beer, not a first choice, and putting lime flavor in it isn't going to elevate its status any more than McDonald's putting spicy brown mustard on their cheeseburger is going to make me opt for one when I've got Hardee's Thickburger money in my pocket.
After the jump, ten things I'd rather find in a bottle of Bud Light than a hint of lime:
Now, I've been known to drink Bud Light on occasion - and by "on occasion," I mean when it's free, or almost free, or I'm buying beer for several heavy drinkers, or when I'm so broke it's all I can afford to drink and still tip. I don't mind drinking cheap beer. But that's what Bud Light is. It's a utility beer, not a first choice, and putting lime flavor in it isn't going to elevate its status any more than McDonald's putting spicy brown mustard on their cheeseburger is going to make me opt for one when I've got Hardee's Thickburger money in my pocket.
After the jump, ten things I'd rather find in a bottle of Bud Light than a hint of lime:
Continue reading On The Subject of Bud Light Lime.
