The Pub Beer/Pub Reviews Smokey's Malt Liquor Corner vol. 2
| 28 March 2009
A long time ago, a retarded kid and I had a task to complete. A task that some folks might call a "menial task", but anyone with half a brain would call it a "shit job". I suppose you can surmise that the retarded kid called it a menial task. But he was a retard, and couldn't say "menial". So instead he called it a "Happymeal Task". So this retard and me, we get the unenviable task of cleaning out the garbage shed of the group home where said retard lived and I worked at. This was no mere garbage shed. This place was a fucking mess like you wouldn't believe. Imagine, if you will, a 8' by 6' by 4' box filled with maggoty garbage cans. Almost every bag stuffed in these cans was ripped open from some animal. And instead of, you know, putting one bag neatly in each can, the retard house decided it could cram like 4 bags in each can. I forgot to mention it was a hot summer's day. I also forgot to mention my sidekick retard thought he was gay.
So we dive headfirst into our chore. Really. In the retard's case, he literally DOVE headfirst into his duty. You haven't lived until you've picked maggots out of a gay retard's hair while he cries hysterically. It's funnier then it sounds. The real clincher for me was the smell. First it was subtle. Then as we made our way further into the shed it got steadily worse. Yet it was hard to pinpoint exactly what it was. A garbage shed is a bouquet of several smells.
And a garbage shed for a home that houses several retards and mentally ill folk has it's own charm, as I'm sure you could imagine. But this smell stood out. Like a motherfucker. We were nervous at what we would find. But we soldiered on anyway. Because I am an idiot and retards are shockingly faithful, we discovered the source of our interesting, vomit-inducing smell. After taking one of these bags out of one of the last cans, we found a furry skeleton of black and gray fur. If you clever AC readers out there guessed dead skunk, well then tug yourself on the left titty, cuz you are correct!
As you might imagine, the retard started crying again. I took a different course of action. I started gagging. Somehow I managed to avoid puking my lungs out and steeled myself to cheer up my slow-witted pal and finish the chore, which no included burying "Poopy", the dead skunk.
"Hey fuckhead!" you might be saying, "What the fuck does this have to do with malt liquor?"
Funny you should ask, because this week we are discussing the miracles of St. Ides. I wrote this long introduction because the only thing that comes remotely CLOSE to the smell of this dead animal is the fresh sniff of a cracked-open Ides forty.
To call St. Ides a bit skunky is to say Oprah's weight fluctuates mildly. Yet there is some charm to be had in the flavor of St. Ides miracle juice. Why this shit was named after an Irish nun I have no idea, but for some reason it isn't as popular with the Irish as it is with the black folk. Although many black folk will come up to you and try to scare you off if they see you drinking Ides. They will scowl at you and tell you to "Stay away" like the old dude from the first couple Friday the 13th flicks. Cuz this shit ain't nothing to fuck with, son. At about 8% alcohol, this shit blows our previous little bitch, King Cobra off the map in sheer drunken madness. THIS SHIT IS NOT FOR BEGINNERS. If you are dabbling in the arts of malt liquor-dom, then this is not a good place to start. Even though this brand is popular, most folks will find themselves staggering home long before they knew what hit 'em.
The cool thing about Ides is the flavor sort of represents what you will be getting into later. It is very hard to finish a whole forty, simply because the swill left over at the bottom has to be choked down. My favorite solution to this is to put my four-ohs in the freezer, and drink them as fast as I can. That way I avoid the dreaded flat swill. Unfortunately, much to Thrillho's chagrin, I usually get too drunk to remember that I put like 4 forties in the freezer and by the time I reach number 3 or 4 there is always one or two bottles left in the freezer to explode and make an awful mess. Which is not fun to clean up when all you can taste the next day is St. Ides and vomit. More then once Thrilho attempted to stage an intervention based around putting booze in the fridge.
St. Ides may be most famous for being the "popular" brew involved with gangsta rap due to their mid-ninetis ad campaign that featured everyone from Biggie to Tupac hawKing their love for the "Crooked I" on a hot summer's day. Arguably the most common name associated with Ides back in the day was Ice Cube. Nowadays Cube stars in family comedies but back in tha day he was a scary muthafucka who hated white folks and loved him some Ides. That's what I call reformation!
Sometimes I sit back and sip an Ides. And wonder if Poopy is in heaven, watching down, and smiling because we gave him a proper burial. Does heaven have garbage sheds? Maybe if I make it I'll hit up St. Ides herself.
Add this page to your favorite Social Bookmarking websites
