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I don’t want to come off wrong when I relay the following message. It’s an important message, but I definitely feel an urgent need to preface it so my words aren’t taken the wrong way when you read them.
I love beer. I love it with my all heart and soul. I’ve never loved any of my girlfriends as much as I love beer. Granted, that probably says more about the women I’ve dated than it does about beer, but still, you understand. Beer is a precious gift, graciously given to us from Jesus and Yeezus Christ themselves. I love beer more than I love my own children. Granted, that might be because I’m pro-choice so none of my children made it past the first trimester, but still, you understand.
But with all that being said, I despise beer snobs with every fiber of my being. They are the scum of the Earth. President Wally Bryton is calling for a complete and total shutdown on beer snobs entering my parties until we figure out what’s going on.
When you read the words “beer snob,” I’m guessing you can automatically picture the type of dude I’m talking about with a vivid imagery I don’t have the poetry of word to perfectly paint for you. They usually wear all flannel everything. They have a goofy looking haircut that’s a bizarre hybrid of Peter Parker and P!nk. They have comically large hipster glasses and they probably never shut up about how everything sounds better on vinyl. They hang out in indie coffeehouses to work on their screenplay about a depressed, middle-aged lesbian visiting Europe.
Some beer snobs brew their own beer because “if you want something done right…” Any dude who brews his own beer is usually a pretentious bag of dildos. But there’s a chance that I’m at least a little bit biased with all of this stuff. To me, beer is beer. Doesn’t matter what beer it is, as long as it’s beer.
Ya see, I’m a simple man. A simple man of simple taste. I’ll drink any beer you give to me (unless you’re Bill Cosby (sorry; I know that Cosby reference is hacky and dated but I never said I’m a creative writer)). I’ll drink the cheapest, trashiest beer imaginable. I’m not here to have standards, I’m just here to get drunk. Give me anything with alcohol in it and I’ll urgently swallow it like it’s the cure for cancer. And that’s why I can’t stand beer snobs.
There’s nothing wrong with a Bud Light. But a beer snob will saunter up to you at a party and judge your beer. Only God can judge me, and therefore, only God can judge my beer. Or something like that. I don’t need your condescending speech about which beer is better than the other. I don’t need a sip of your special, perfect brew that’s apparently superior to whatever beer can I have in my hand.
There are a lot of things on which we’ll never find common ground. But hopefully we can all agree that beer snobs should go fist themselves..
Image via Shutterstock