Pabst Casket
Pabst is a beer that is arguably considered on par with other "prize winners" like Keystone (1st place for worst beer shits) and Busch Light (most dirt per can) so making a Pabst-themed casket to symbolize who you were in life is one of the most depressing things I have seen, besides his wife's which is Franzia themed. At least it will match the gravestone that he bought from Walmart.
Maybe it's a defense strategy; he is hoping that worms will see the Pabst blue ribbon and move on to more cultured-looking ones nearby- but we all know the teenage worms will just go for it anyways
Props to Mr. Chables for the link
4 comments:
Why can't you call it by its real name? Afraid to acknowledge that Pabst BLUE RIBBON won the blue ribbon for best beer of all time?
Clearly the guy knows nothing about preserving his remains, because Pabst doesn't preserve shit.
Well the article failed to mention that ever since he was a little boy this man has always aspired to be a skunked beer. From the first time that he tasted a warm, month old beer that he found under the porch he knew what his calling in life was.
The poor quality in beer choice becomes clear when we take this into consideration. Thus we see the choice not as the bizarre, pathetic tribute to alcoholism as so many assume at first glance but rather a final poetic statement by a little boy intent on one day becoming a skunked brew. In death he becomes the skunked beer that he always dreamed of.
Perhaps if he marinates himself in said beer, he will accelerate the decaying process twofold. In fact, perhaps Pabst Blue Ribbon was the missing ingredient in that Frenchman's get-rich-quick scheme.
Who knew?
Sadly, I had a few PBR's (that's what the cool kids call it I think) these past few nights. However, this base defiling of my beer-drinking name did make for some good research. After hours of searching, I dug up the history behind Pabst's most cherished child on the side of the can. The brewing of Pabst started in 1844. 49 years later, it won the blue ribbon for taste in 1893. In an attempt to hold on to that memory, Pabst hasn't brewed a single can since. They failed to take into account that, unlike wine, PBR does not get better with age. Gotta love 100-year-old beers!
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