In my endless quest to come up with useless lists for my useless twists, and because this blog ostensibly has something to do with alcohol, and because I often give suggestions on what to drink, I decided to come up with a list of things not to drink. Hopefully this ridiculous waste of your time is an antidote to the seriousness of the previous post. I’ll try not to make a habit of either extreme.
5) Wine coolers
You probably won’t have to worry about this one. I don’t think they’re sold anymore, but if you happen to stumble into a time machine set to 1988, you’ll need this advice. Remember Matilda Bay? I don’t. Nothing says, “I’m putting on my Hammer pants, mounting my rice rocket, and heading down to the strip in Myrtle Beach,” quite like this stomach-turning sugar-fest.
Or any ice beer for that matter. Pay a $2 cover at your local cheese bar, order some pitchers of Icehouse, throw in a few hot wings, and get ready for a date with a higher-than-recommended dosage of Ibuprofen and a quest to find the world’s softest toilet paper.
3) Boone’s Farm
See number 5.
2) King Cobra
With close runners up: Private Stock, Olde English 800, and St. Ides. Drink a 40 of the Cobra and consider yourself bitten. Simultaneously induces an overwhelming desire to kick other people’s asses while drastically increasing the probability that other people will have an overwhelming desire to kick your ass.
aka “Liquid Crack.” The makers of this evil fortified wine, who also bring us Wild Irish Rose and aggressively market this swill in impoverished neighborhoods, were forced in 1991 by the Federal Trade Commission to drop the slogan, “Takes you by surprise,” from the product. Additionally, Cisco now comes with a warning on the label: “This is not a wine cooler.”
The effects of this stuff are legendary. I was standing next to a guy who was drinking this at a bonfire party some years ago. When he started casually sipping from the bottle, he was standing there quietly minding his own business and staring thoughtfully at the fire. Without warning, he developed an uncontrollable double restless leg syndrome, dancing in place like he had fire ants crawling up his legs. After a few minutes of the fire-ants dance, he screamed like a howler monkey and walked through the fire. Repeatedly. Entertaining? Yes. Dangerous? Absolutely.