Pabst Blue Ribbon

First thing's first. Put this on and turn it the heck up.

OK. Now that we have your attention, I'd like to discuss Pabst Blue Ribbon. This isn't going to be as much of a review as it will be a testimonial to how fucking perfect Pabst Blue Ribbon is in every way. Hell, even the hangover is good. I remember my first PBR like it was yesterday. It was like, the year 2000 and I snuck out to some sick ripper in the middle of no where. I cracked that first PBR, poured it into a beer bong with a Toy Machine sticker on it and the rest, as they say, was history. Rarely a week goes by when I don't enjoy some variety of Pabst, be it a bottle, can, pounder can, really big can, 40, draft, intravenous drip, whatever.

Pabst Blue Ribbon won a blue ribbon in 1893. That's all you really need to know about it's history. Milwaukee is a hellhole and the good people needed something to get blatted on to pass the time during the 10 months of winter they experience. It tastes like hard work, freedom, the misuse of fireworks, speed metal, and flannel shirts. It goes good with everything, even organized religion. It's cheap. Real cheap. But that doesn't mean it lacks in taste, curb appeal, or fun potential. Actual fact alert: A whole shit ton of PBR is sold in America without an ad campaign. They believe in the anti-advertising strategy of no print ads or commercials, and instead of pouring money into dumb ads with bitch bartenders yelling at bros wearing Ed Hardy, they pour it into social media and sponsorship of concert series and junk like that. It's pretty rad, but unfortunately leads to PBR being the beer of choice for the scourge of the earth, hipsters. And since hipster scums are always looking for something old and dumb to make cool and expensive again, they kind of are perfect for each other. Except Pabst is secretly laughing under its breath when some douche is selling pounders for 6 bucks a pop at some pool hall in Williamsburg Brooklyn cause you can get a 12 pack for 6 bucks at the bodega next door and have a hell of a lot more fun not being pretentious and smug.

I couldn't imagine a world without PBR. It would be a cold terrible place with no happiness or puppies or flowers or God. Without PBR, i never would have been kicked out of some of State College's finest establishments. Without PBR, I probably never would've been thrown through a wall in my apartment. I definitely would not have half the scars i do. I never would've seen a sorority girl intentionally burn her arm with a bike tire to stay at our party. I never would've invented the elaborate glass breaking game in my kitchen. Without PBR, Slayer wouldn't sound as good, hangovers wouldn't be as crippling, the fucking Pabst sword of 2003 would never have been forged. I'm not even sure I should score it. A beer this unreal should probably just be given a sideways 8 cause its infinity good.

Drinkability: 800/10
Taste: 343/10
Value: 100/10
Curb Appeal: 3425654277/10

Overall: Unreal. Transcends all numbers known by man.