Max Riffner

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When Friends Call You Out Part Deux

I have received waaaaay too much crap for recently purchasing an 18-pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon in the face of the impending snowstorm here the other night. I can honestly say that I didn’t set out to purchase it; I just went to the store looking for a six-pack, maybe of Fat Tire or Guinness, something dark and heavy. However, the 18-pack of PBR caught my eye, and for 10 bucks, it was a steal. I figured it may be a long weekend of feeling antsy from not being able to go outside. Why not get enough ammo to sufficiently keep myself sedated?

I’ll admit that my curiosity had been piqued about PBR since I’ve read about its staggering popularity among the hipster set. I didn’t think they made it anymore. I am happy to report that the taste is not bad at all, nor “water-y” as many have been quick to point out. It is actually quite pleasant, not unlike my other trailer park favorite, Miller High Life (it is the champagne of beers, y’know). All in all, not a bad way to spend 10 bucks, and it is good to mix it up every once in awhile.

Beer snobs. What’s the world coming to?

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