Presidente: revisited

So, I went to the Dominican Republic and this was the only beer they served. Each day, each sip, this piss got worse and worse. I ended up shitting out my guts for 8 days after I got home. Coincidence? I highly doubt it. I don't know what was worse, the acrid piss going down, or the lasers exploding from my ass. So, why the hell did you keep drinking it if it was so bad, you ask? I was scared to death to drink any of the water, that's why. And because the damn beach cabana hombre kept bringing them to me. And because they were free. There was some nasty-ass stuff in the Dominican Republic, everything from rotting houses, to people with rotting morals who stole from me, to people who told me they were going to take me on a tour of the resort only to ditch me and my kids with no ride home. But the Presidente takes the cake. I even bought a Presidente beer-opener-refrigerator magnet-thing, and the damn thing broke the very first time I used it. Don't buy this stuff. Ever! This stuff is cursed all around. If you drink it, you'll wish instantly that you were drinking cat piss instead. If you were stuck in a desert, with no water for days, were hot as all get out, had swamp ass, and blisters on your feet and a witch appeared out of thin air and offered you either an ice-cold Presidente or warm, curdled milk, you would take the curdled milk in a heartbeat. That's how freakin' bad this stuff is. Using Matt the Mitzvah's rating system, I'd rate this one as "septic sludge". I'm pretty sure "Fear Factor" went off the air b/c they ran out of stunts that would gross people out. They never thought of the Presidente. Had they known about it, you would have seen the contestants retching in the fetal position, puking up everything including their gall bladders, and hallucinating. That would have made for some good ratings. You want terrorists to give up credible information to help us counter the Taliban? Waterboarding? Hah! That's for sissies! All you gotta do is dangle the Presidente bottle in front of them and they'll start talking and crying and wailing for their mommies. You don't even need to open the bottle. I'm pretty sure if you gave me a home brewing kit with no directions or guidance of any sort, I could somehow manage to figure out how to make something better than this sock sweat. And that's on the very first try! I realize that I'm getting all kooky here, spewing ridiculous talk all around. But that's only because I care about you. I really do. I really and truly care about all five people on this blog, and that includes Zak. I can't stress enough to you how bad this beer is. Don't buy this stuff, not even as a prank to one of your old college buddies. That is just too cruel and over the line. Shave his eyebrow? Fine. Put an old, decaying fish in his air ducts? Fine. Put naked ladies on his power point presentation for work? Fine. Just don't give him any of this crap. You'll make an enemy real quick, a frothing, conniving, vengeful enemy.