Progressing through the World Beer Tour at the local establishment, I've tasted some pretty good and awfully shitty beers. As I was in the mood for one final night of self deprivation, I subjected myself to some Parrot's Bay shit (think Smirnoff Ice for masochists), Guinness (oh Guinness is refined, classy & full of body? Wrong, it's like giving a rimjob to a elephant with IBS) and Fosters. I did reward myself with a Hazed & Infused, but that doesn't eliminate the taste of rotten labia from my lips.
Never before has one beer inspired so many remarks as this one can of Fosters. Seriously, unless you've ever sat at a bar drinking one of these oversized cans, you haven't tested the limits to which you'll push your endurance and integrity. If the following doesn't convince you that your life is incomplete without the experience that is Fosters, well sir, you are far from a beer snob; rather, you aren't wearing your Golden Straightjacket.
-Fosters; tastes like the zoo
-Fosters; tastes like Oklahoma
-Fosters; smells like penis
-Fosters; like you're 8 years old, giving hand jobs to the bus driver again
-Fosters; for those who like their beer with hay, not hops
-Fosters; never will a beer can make you feel sexually inadequate like ours
-Fosters; ain't no one being f'ed by this can
-Fosters; you're kidding, right?
-Fosters; twice the size for only a buck more
It's late, I can't remember the rest. Anyway, Fosters sucks.
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2 comments:
Oi, achei teu blog pelo google tá bem interessante gostei desse post. Quando der dá uma passada pelo meu blog, é sobre camisetas personalizadas, mostra passo a passo como criar uma camiseta personalizada bem maneira. Até mais
Thank you rodrigo for your feedback, but I have no need for personalized jerseys. Unless... could it just say "Fosters sucks"? How about "Mother Nature is a MILF"? You know what, maybe I'll check out your blog. This blog is about bringing cultures together, not pushing them apart.
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