A Test

Why do people feel the need to write about their own lives? What is it about the last three generations that causes them to be to arrogant that they could possibly think others care about the personal details of their lives so much that it must be shared in a public spot?

If you google anything in this sentence, I'm guessing that someone else said it before me, and said it better than me. They probably also copyrighted it. So, congratulations, you're reading a boring, accidentally plagiarized blog!

It's interesting to think about the things in your life that affect the decisions you make in life the most. A few years ago, I was a beer snob. A fairly hardcore, brown-bottle or draft only, please, beer snob. I waxed philosophic about the floral bouquet in a delicate IPA, or the hearty coffee flavor in the local stout brewed at the pub downtown. I looked with scorn upon my father and his family, who drank Bud Light.

And now as I write this, I'm enjoying the flavor of a can of Busch Light. I have become my own worst nightmare. I still enjoy sounding like a complete drooling hipster moron when I'm at the local watering hole; I can compare the taste of beer to emotions with the best of them. The question is: what changed me? Why am I now that which I considered the lowest common denominator of beer drinker, the fat bald beer-gutted slob with salsa stains on my shirt and holes in my jeans who drinks Busch Light out of a Can and screams "I DON'T NEED TA WEAR A SHIRT!" at passersby?

It was Consumer Reports.

Those bastards.

They told me that they did a taste comparison test of all the large volume beers to find out which one really was the best value.

And Busch Light in a can won.

Apparently, aluminum cans keep the beer freshest. (this actually makes sense; sunlight is beer's enemy, and glass, especially clear glass, lets sunlight in. That's why Coronas taste like shit and you cover it up with lime juice.) And Busch Light won the blind taste test.

I've no idea if that story was true or not. Even if it was true, it has nothing to do with quality micros or imports.

But the desire to buy 12 beers for 6 dollars apparently only needed the slight impetus from a magazine saying "it's okay, other people drink that beer too!" for me to start purchasing it.

And now I am a Busch light guzzling white trash douchebag with hipster douchebag tendencies -- but more money that that stupid nerd rock glasses hipster, cause I drink cheap beer.

And I don't need ta wear a shirt.