No, not Professional Bull Riding, although that is pretty kickass as well. I'm referring to Pabst Blue Ribbon, that cheapest, most wonderful concoction of water and agricultural sludge that some affectionately call Poor Boy's Remedy.
Okay, okay. It tastes like the horse they got it from has a UTI, but you know what? Fuck it. It's one of those things that you either emphatically love or completely despise, and I fall decidedly into the former camp. Let me list the ways in which PBR is awesome.
- It is a goddamn American classic. Been around since before the Civil War and won its namesake Blue Ribbon right around the time this country was still powered by trains and land snatching. 'Murrca!
- Presumably it has some trace amounts of alcohol in it, as evidenced by both the age requirement to purchase it and the fact that I'll work up a decent buzz after about half a case of them. As we all know, alcohol makes everything better.
- I can literally hydrate myself off of nothing but PBR. I really have no comment on that, except for the fact that human body is an amazing thing, with the liver being a particularly clever organ.
- In most places, PBR is substantially cheaper than energy drinks (which destroy your body, and don't get you drunk) and bottled water (which, again, does not get you drunk). At my local Post Exchange, you will receive a nickel back from a six dollar bill when purchasing a twelve pack of it. That's 49.17 cents per.
- PBR is available in both bottles and cans for the same low price. Cans are great because you can shotgun them (which is really just the epitome of class) before you crush them and spike them at your buddy's face in a declaration of manly awesomeness. Bottles, meanwhile, make excellent paper weights. Win-win.
- Tom Raper drinks it.
Pabst Blue Ribbon: if you don't like it, you're probably a freedom-hating communist.
That is all.
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