“To alcohol! The cause of and solution to all of life’s problems”.
I believe this was in the Odyssey, or maybe it was the Iliad.
Oh. Wrong Homer.
I love beer. For more than half of my life, I’ve consumed various brews. From the swill like Coors Light or Wildcat (My Canadian brethren will recognize that name), to most recently discovering and enjoying Winter Ales and Coconut Porters, beer and I are friends.
I was perusing the selections in my local beer store, when I came across a most simplistic label. The likes of which have not been seen since the days when product placement in your favorite television shows and movies wasn’t so commonplace. It was a shimmering collection of 6 silver cans, and it simply said Beer. Then Beer again, and below those two beautiful words, it simply stated Strong.
This beer wasn’t here to fuck around, it was direct and to the point. It read 7% at the bottom of the can. Well, I knew then and there I had to have this beer, so I promptly bought it and brought it home with me. Little was I to know, this beer was stronger than advertised and had a mind of its own.
Come with me today on PopLurker, and discover as I did, just how strong this beer was.
One can at a time.
They say there’s no time like the present, so as soon as I walked into my house, I immediately pulled a can of Beer Beer Strong from its plastic ring, cracked it open and took a healthy swig, curious if this beer was as strong as its can laid claim to.
It was…not the worst beer I’ve ever tasted. But, it was far from the best. However, what could I expect after paying $7.50 (that’s $5.83 US, kids) for a six pack? Taking another sip, I moved it around in my mouth trying to get a sense of its flavor. The closest I could compare it to was if you left caramels out in the sun for a week, and then rubbed dirt all over them, and not that store-bought dirt either, that stuff is full of nutrients. This however was full of something and it wasn’t nutrients.
Finishing off the can, I tossed it into my recycling bin and headed to the basement after hearing my dryer stop. This beer wasn’t strong enough to distract me from my day, despite its dubious claims of being “Strong” as well as 7%. I’ve had strong beers and this one was not one of them as I laughed to myself. I pulled out my clean laundry and promptly folded it, like a real adult and everything.
After coming back upstairs and putting laundry away, I walked into my kitchen to put the rest of the cans in the fridge, when I thought I heard a voice speaking to me.
Looking around I wondered if I had imagined things, but then I heard it again but more insistent.
“Hey! Long hair! You can put those other 4 in the fridge, but you know one beer is never enough, crack me open and have another. It’s not like you have anything better to do.”
Either I had gone completely sideways, or this Beer Beer Strong was stronger than I had given it credit for and was talking to me, challenging me. Getting down to its level, and with the theme from The Good, The Bad and the Ugly playing in my head, (along with the beer talking to me? Hold it together, Jonathan) I answered its call.
There’ll be plenty of time to drink the rest of you later I said, I’ve got shit to do. Dishes for that matter. But, the beer was not to be denied. “Haven’t you heard of multitasking? You can do dishes and drink me at the same time”.
It had a point.
Downing this second can while doing dishes would obviously be a breeze and I finished my chore, no big deal. Triumphant, I flipped the can off for good measure. You’re not the boss of me, Beer Beer Strong.
Having consumed two beers in a matter of less than 20 minutes was starting to have a slight effect. I may be from Atlantic Canada and we can hold our own but feeling a slight buzz I figured it’d be best to sweat it out a little and burn these extra calories. Walking towards my living room, I figured a little bit of cardio on the exercise bike would do the trick. I started peddling but then looking down at the display on the bike I noticed…there was a can of the strong beer perched between the pedals of the bike!
Where the hell? How the fuck? Did it magically transport itself to its current resting place, or had I subconsciously brought this third can into the living room with me? I contemplated getting up and returning it to the fridge, but I already had a good rhythm going on the bike, so I plucked the can from its stoop, cracked it and downed it in one large gulp. Sure, this may not have been the best of ideas having my third beer in less than 30 minutes, but I was exercising simultaneously! Balance, right?!
The combination of the alcohol and my increasing heart rate was having the opposite effect. Rather than sweating the calories and the booze out of my system, it was making me groggy and lightheaded. Fuck this I thought, there’s a reason I hardly exercise to begin with, and this isn’t making anything better.
Alright I’m feeling some effects now. Simple math tells us that 7% multiplied by 3 beers is 21% alcohol in my system. I may be 6’1” and 210 pounds, but for as much of a booze hound as I may be, I needed to take a break. Looking longingly at my couch, I eased myself down and promptly took a nap.
Or at least I attempted to.
No more than 5 minutes after laying down, my stomach reminded me “you haven’t eaten anything yet dingus!” Determined to correct this problem, I walked or rather wobbled into my kitchen. Looking through my fridge and through my cupboards I saw plenty of options for meals. Things I could make. Real food I could cook. I may not be a Master Chef, but I certainly have no problem feeding myself.
However, my booze addled brain concocted a ridiculous idea.
The idea being, why take time to cook or bake something? How long would a beef stir fry take, 20 minutes? But I’m hungry now! So, in a move not seen since my days as a bachelor over 15 years ago, I took a can of corn niblets from the cupboard, opened it with the can opener and…started eating it cold from the can all while cold beer number 4 inexplicably appeared in my left hand.
This Beer Beer Strong was something else! What it lacked in pleasing flavor it more than made up for in sheer determination to fuck up me and my entire day.
Beers 5 (and 6):
At this point in the day, I’m four beers deep, feeling pretty good but also a little woozy and disoriented to say the least. Seeing two beers left in the fridge, I contemplated leaving them there until morning. But then I was reminded of some words of wisdom. “Nobody likes a quitter” or maybe it was “You never knew when to quit when you were ahead”.
Whatever it was, I said fuck it.
I grabbed both remaining Beer Beer Strong and took them into my living room and plopped down onto my couch a little too easily.
If drinking one beer was considered giving a 100% effort, cracking both fuckers open and drinking them together would be 200%! As my vision slowly became hazier, I turned the TV on hoping to find something to distract me from draining these last two cans too quickly. Flipping through the channels, and not seeing anything particularly interesting, I settled on…golf?
Oh man, I’ve underestimated the strength of this Strong Beer. I never watch golf voluntarily, yet here I was watching the various golfers swinging and driving. Chipping and putting. Knocking golf balls into bunkers and water hazards. One dude just missed his putt by a few inches. I channeled my own inner Happy Gilmore and screamed drunkenly at the tv, “WHY DON’T YOU JUST GO HOME! THAT’S YOUR HOME! ARE YOU TOO GOOD FOR YOUR HOME?!”
Slowly I realized I needed to gain control here.
Speaking of homes, this was my home damnit! I was in charge here, not the beer. Draining those last two cans, I raised my fists triumphantly into the air, as the cans clanked onto my hardwood floor.
“I’ve defeated you Beer Beer Strong! Despite your best efforts I am still King here! You thought you had me backed into a corner, but you were wrong. You were”
…and the last thing I remember is passing out on my couch with 6 beers coursing through my body, welcoming the darkness of unconsciousness that enveloped my mind and lulled me to sleep.
I woke up the next morning, and surprisingly I felt good. No hangover. No nausea. No headache or any other adverse effects from knocking back those 6 silver cans of so called “Strong Beer”. Removing my glasses and clearing the sleep from my eyes with the backs of my hands, I decided to fire up my laptop and maybe watch some Samurai Pizza Cats on YouTube.
It was at this point I noticed that my laptop was already opened, and a lone internet browser was open as well. Opened to Amazon.com. For what reason and why was I on Amazon? When was I on Amazon? It had to have been last night, but I had no recollection of going online. Blinking my eyes, I saw the terror in front of me, creeping slow, like the first waves of an acid frenzy. My mouth dropped open, my eyes widened. The Beer Beer Strong had indeed gotten the last laugh on me. It couldn’t be I thought.
Oh God no, it can’t be true.
But there it was on the screen much to my horror and dismay.
Come hang out with Jonathan on Twitter for a movie and a beer anytime!
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