I often wonder about the unfounded, generous lifespan of certain products: 

1) Visors (just wear a proper hat for chrissakes)

2) Uggs (you look like a stocky brat, grow up)

3) Budweiser

After having a Bud (do people even call it that any more?) the other day, I was further perplexed about who actually walks down the beer aisle and selects Budweiser: The Original. It tastes like the my grandpa’s sweaty wifebeater. 

Don’t get me wrong, though I’d never choose to purchase Bud Light or Bud Light Lime or Bud Light Zero or Ultra Low Carb Bud, I at least understand why others would. Those go down somewhat easy. Those I may’ve had in the last ten years.

While I can’t remember the last time I had a straight-up Budweiser,** I’m going to assume that it was probably an instance much like last weekend. Every other imbibing option had run dry and Budweiser was the lone scraggler, so I accepted. It was still beer after all.

But this weekend I couldn’t even finish it. I didn’t try to make the most of it; I just went home. I’m officially a grown up, which is why I don’t wear furry shoes with pom-poms. 

** (Let’s be honest, I probably don’t remember this last occurrence because I was already drunk and didn’t care what I put in my mouth, as long as it at least had a 3-percent alcohol content.)