Pabst Blue Ribbon

Case File: Light of my life, fire of my loins. My soul, my sin. Pee-bee-arr. I had to do it. I know it's been said a thousand times before by a thousand cooler, funnier, more intelligent people than me, but it doesn't matter: fuck this drink. They say the greatest trick the Devil ever played was to convince the world he didn't exist. The greatest trick Pabst Blue Ribbon's urban outreach department played was to convince the world it's beer wasn't shit.

PBR. Those three smug letters are now scratched on every drink special bulletin in every bar from Williamsburg to Wicker Park: $2 PBR Tall Boy. Buy one PBR get the 2nd FREE! $5 PBR and a shot of Jameson! As if any of these deals was a bargain. As if handing over hard earned legal tender for a drink that costs a nickel to research, bottle and brew was better than staying in and watching torrented reruns of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine.

Flavor: Pennies, flat soda, a stable.

Problem: I'll drink one if offered.