I’m really not this desperate

My little drinkie I am treating myself to with lunch today is tequila flavoured beer from France. ‘Oh dear’, you may be thinking; I think that would be an overly generous assessment.

[image image_id=”3630″ align=”right” size=”medium”]

Desperados beer flavoured with tequila, 5.9%

I’m smelling this and the civilised parts of my mind are screaming, “Why did you buy this, you moronic, rancid fool?” It actually smells a bit like Gueuze, only with all of the weird but nice aromas replaced with totally repulsive filth. Ah OK, I know exactly what this smells like: shandy. And the taste? Oh deary, deary me. Look, will you excuse me from writing about the taste? I’m trying not to think about it and I don’t want another mouthful to remind myself of the sweet, dirty and generally vile characteristics that dominate the palate. Oh bugger, now I’ve thought about it again and I feel utterly consumed with horror that I actually swallowed such nauseating crap. You’ve got to hate this and curse the name of its inventor.

To comment without logging in, enter your name below and then check "I'd rather post as guest".