*Prologue*
What up people. Just a quick heads up; this is actually something lifted from the blog I wrote while my wiz Lil' Tika and I were travelling the world from September '09 - March 2010. This particular entry is from October when we were in San Francisco and I had access to an abundance of cheap, strong liquor sold in large containers. Even if you've read this before, scroll to the bottom for the epilogue, an add in that I thought worthy of mentioning if only to promote the magnificent strength of some of these beverages. Enjoy.
*The Story* (10/2009)
*Epilogue*
Ok, so as you may or may not know or may or may not have realised by now, not only I am a fan of alcohol, but also a fan of getting absolutely ripped on the stuff on occasion. Funnily enough, on the occasions when I sampled each and every one of these brews, I ended up more than a little leaned. However, the irony is as such : the night that I drank the 2/3 bottles of Colt I had also competed in the 'Beer Olympics' with some fellow Britons; the hostel we were staying in ran the contest weekly and involved all sorts of drinking games, and the booze was free. So, after getting through the best part of a keg and a six pack during the contest, I then proceeded on to drink the Colts and got absolutely fucking blotto. Went to bed late and had a pretty standard killer hangover the day after. No dramas there.
The night after this, despite spending the entire day absolutely riddled and swearing I that I would never touch another drop of booze again, funnily enough I ended up draining 2 bottles of Mickey's and 2 or 3 bottles of the Old English over a few games of pool and a few zoots with my girl and a couple we had got pally with over the previous two nights. For some unknown reason I started regaling them with stories of friends from the UK (no names, don't worry boys) who had got drunk as all fuckery and then proceeded to not piss in the toilet while sleepwalking, favouring instead laundry hampers, expensive electronic equipment and, in one particular case, a girlfriend's parents dressing table, which involved stumbling into said parent's bedroom completely bollock naked and flopping it out, oblivious to the animated protestations of the poor, terrified couple. How embarrassing.
So, cutting a long story short, after getting pretty fucking lean (but nowhere near as smashed as the night before) I hit the sack, only to be woken up by one of my roommates while I was busying myself taking a piss in the corner of our room. My only conceivable explanation for this behaviour is that due to my storytelling I somehow planted a seed of uncertainty in my own head, resulting in me hosing down the radiator and carpet instead of the crapper, which was obviously 30 feet down the hall. I spose I kind of woke up out of my trance at this point and stomped off to the bog in a mood. When I got there, I quickly realised what it is exactly I had done, but I was so fucked that I didn't really care at all. So, with that same I-don't-give-a-fuck attitude, I chucked my soaking boxers in the bin and walked the 30 feet back to the room bollock naked, equally scaring and impressing a few people in the process.
The moral of the story is A) I don't really give a fuck, hence me telling you this and B) despite the fact it placed second, the OE 800 is obviously not to be taken lightly. Given a second chance (please God) I would like to re-enact the 40 Ounce challenge over a period of a week or so but ONLY involving the OE and the Colt. I couldn't call it a tie at the time, but god damn if that OE wasn't a good, strong beer. It made me piss myself. That's got to count for something, surely?
Ok, having made a point of trying to sample as many 40's as possible while G-ing it out in Cali, I ran a little contest (in my head), that you may find informative if you were ever trying to drink large bottles of cheap liquor in the US. I will list the contenders, their pros & cons and give a short write up of their in-bloodstream performances. Just so you know, all of these beauties retail at less than $4 each, which is the equivalent of about 2 pound 40. 5 contestants, only one winner.... WHO WILL TAKE IT???
1. Miller Genuine Draft/Miller High Life ('The Champagne Of Beers')
The funny thing about a lot of these brews (as previously mentioned with the colt) is that there is no ABV on the label, so you don't know how strong the beer actually is. With that in mind -
PRO : Nice and light, great for beach/park/sunday afternoon drinking.
CON : Blatantly 4% or less, which is not strong enough for me (although it still shits all over fosters, carlsberg etc).
2. Colt 45
As previously mentioned, Colt is the shit, so maybe this comparison is slightly biased. Its 10+%(? - still not totally sure), used to be advertised by Billy Dee Williams and has a massive stigma attached (ie only useless bums drink it - great cover for an amazingly cool and successful guy like me). Despite the high ABV its actually surprisingly mild on the pallet so its a win win for me. The only con is maybe 10+% is a little too strong; but that's a dubious but.
3 & 4. Old English 800 & Mickey's Malt Liquor
I was wondering why these two were snapped together; i can only assume that i drank them one after another and wanted to economise on the photo taking. Mickey's is a 5.6% and the O.E. (made famous by so many of my favorite rappers) is at a hefty 7.5%.
Rather than proing and conning, ill simply just tell you that the Mickey's was mad boring and just didn't do it for me. The OE however was nice and strong and gave me a feeling of geeked out pleasure as i poured it on the street outside screaming "BIG L REST IN PEACE!!!!!" with tears streaming down my face. Mick was a bit watery, a bit wishy washy. OE was strong, tough and not to be fucked with. Think Frank Spencer vs Mike Tyson. No contest.
5. St Ides Malt Liquor
The promise of a "High Gravity" beer was too much for me to pass up; this coupled with the fact that Wu Tang, Ice Cube, Cypress Hill, Mc Eiht, Snoop Dogg, Tupac, Eric B & Rakim and EPMD did adverts for St. Ides caused me to invest in this strange looking concoction. And strange it was; at 8.2% i figured it was an auto winner, but I couldn't have been more wrong. Imagine pouring half a jar of honey into a bottle of white spirit and theres your drink, in a nutshell. High Gravity? More like complete bollocks. Do not touch under any circumstances.
AND THE WINNER IS???
Despite putting up the most valiant of efforts and very very nearly stealing my heart away, a choice had to be made and someone had to finish in second place. Weighing in at 7.5% and making me extremely drunk, the silver medal goes to Old English 800. Which means, the grand prize goes tooooooooooooooooooo (drum roll) -
THE COLT 45 (As if there was ever any real contest). Complete rankings as follows -
1. Colt 45
2. Old English 800 (very very very close - sorry OE)
3. Mickey's (based strictly on ABV)
4. Miller Genuine Draft
5. St Ides (oh HELL no)
And there you have it people. Need a 40 in your life? Follow my guide and we can all get lean in the hood the right way.
Pour a lil' liquor out for your homies fool!
*Epilogue*
Ok, so as you may or may not know or may or may not have realised by now, not only I am a fan of alcohol, but also a fan of getting absolutely ripped on the stuff on occasion. Funnily enough, on the occasions when I sampled each and every one of these brews, I ended up more than a little leaned. However, the irony is as such : the night that I drank the 2/3 bottles of Colt I had also competed in the 'Beer Olympics' with some fellow Britons; the hostel we were staying in ran the contest weekly and involved all sorts of drinking games, and the booze was free. So, after getting through the best part of a keg and a six pack during the contest, I then proceeded on to drink the Colts and got absolutely fucking blotto. Went to bed late and had a pretty standard killer hangover the day after. No dramas there.
The night after this, despite spending the entire day absolutely riddled and swearing I that I would never touch another drop of booze again, funnily enough I ended up draining 2 bottles of Mickey's and 2 or 3 bottles of the Old English over a few games of pool and a few zoots with my girl and a couple we had got pally with over the previous two nights. For some unknown reason I started regaling them with stories of friends from the UK (no names, don't worry boys) who had got drunk as all fuckery and then proceeded to not piss in the toilet while sleepwalking, favouring instead laundry hampers, expensive electronic equipment and, in one particular case, a girlfriend's parents dressing table, which involved stumbling into said parent's bedroom completely bollock naked and flopping it out, oblivious to the animated protestations of the poor, terrified couple. How embarrassing.
So, cutting a long story short, after getting pretty fucking lean (but nowhere near as smashed as the night before) I hit the sack, only to be woken up by one of my roommates while I was busying myself taking a piss in the corner of our room. My only conceivable explanation for this behaviour is that due to my storytelling I somehow planted a seed of uncertainty in my own head, resulting in me hosing down the radiator and carpet instead of the crapper, which was obviously 30 feet down the hall. I spose I kind of woke up out of my trance at this point and stomped off to the bog in a mood. When I got there, I quickly realised what it is exactly I had done, but I was so fucked that I didn't really care at all. So, with that same I-don't-give-a-fuck attitude, I chucked my soaking boxers in the bin and walked the 30 feet back to the room bollock naked, equally scaring and impressing a few people in the process.
The moral of the story is A) I don't really give a fuck, hence me telling you this and B) despite the fact it placed second, the OE 800 is obviously not to be taken lightly. Given a second chance (please God) I would like to re-enact the 40 Ounce challenge over a period of a week or so but ONLY involving the OE and the Colt. I couldn't call it a tie at the time, but god damn if that OE wasn't a good, strong beer. It made me piss myself. That's got to count for something, surely?
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