I’ve gone through a long journey in my life long goal, barreling towards alcoholism. Truth be told, no matter how hard I try, I just can’t become an alcoholic. I don’t have it in me. Starting off as a wee lad, around the age of 14, my friends and I drank plenty of malted liquor. We used to buy a 40 ounce after school, like true degenerates, and imbibe the nectars of the ghetto until half retarded. Disgustingly, we used to share the bottle.
Then I moved onto other things, like Cisco, which we called ‘liquid crack’ in Brooklyn. It was a sweet wine with lots of sulfites in it that used to make everyone really sick.
Then I experimented with mixing things into my beer, like pina colada coolers or even fruit punch — real fag shit.
Moving into adulthood, I still drank beer, but also tequila. From 20-22, I drank bottles of that stuff — earning a reputation as someone who could truly hold his liquor. When you’re young and stupid, meaningless titles like that are appealing and coveted.
Then I went through a dry period, becoming turned off by the whole beer scene and definitely soured on the Mexican cacti genre.
In my 30s, I experimented with single malt scotch and wine — because I had a lot of money and I thought that’s what I was supposed to drink. Again. I’ve demonstrated a keen propensity for high level retard thinking over the years.
Fast forward to today, I’ve become an aficionado. I’ve become very particular about everything, from the shoes on my feet, to coffee, tea and now cocktails.
The way I figure, craft beer is a genre that is for fags, 100%. I don’t mean that in the homosexual opera way either. It’s just that, beer, for lack of a better term, is for rubes — rusticate swindlers who enjoy vomiting on their own shoes and their wives.
I’ve found that FDR had it right all along: martinis.
Now, we can go straight vodka, dry vermouth, shaken, not stirred, and have a great evening of laughter — uninterrupted by beer burps. Or, we can mix up a french martini for the ladies, which is a fruitier beverage, topped off with champagne (when done correctly, the champagne must be frapped). Or, we can go the FDR route and simply add a little olive brine to the martini, which I make extra wet with 1/2 parts of vermouth in it, and there isn’t a drink in the world that is better.
As you age and meet new people, you should carry yourselves with a modicum of sophistication — eschewing plebian beverages like crafted beer or shots of Jagermeister. That shit is for retards.
If you want to discuss martinis and the different variants, we can do that too. Personally, I prefer grey goose vodka over gin, but gin works too.
What’s your poison? Say ‘craft beer’ and I find out where you live and punch your jaw loose.
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