Camo High Gravity Lager (564 hits)
Category: GeneralRating: 1.55 on 10 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by <m0ke34> (View user info) at 2008-10-07 17:09:46 EDT
Yesterday afternoon Emily and I left Mesquite to return to Vegas. Just before the interstate, we stopped at a Shell to get a few gallons of gas and some provisions for the 2 hr drive. As I was comparing the contents of the bottled-water case, an old friend caught my eye.
There, in Mesquite, NV lurked a blast from the past unseen since an ill-fated Bronx bodega visit in the days of yore: Camo. Like an eager child sprung from slumber on Christmas morn, I exalted my glorious fate and immediately embarked on capitalizing on the discovery of this wild brew so far out of its natural urban habitat.
My mind raced:
"Enjoying" one of these myself was out of the question. 10.5% alcohol in 24 oz. form equates to 4.2 shots. I had to drive. Emily? I couldn't. I had to. I had stumbled onto something as rare as manhood at the Democratic National Convention. I could not let it be as useless.
"Baby, do you know what this is?" I inquired with eyes ablaze. She responded in the negative. I went on to explain that Camo is, without question, the largest mistake ever to slip through the cracks of the FDA.
"You have to try it."
Her eyes narrowed. Her head tilted. She was actually considering it!
"You were just telling me how you love life experiences. This is your opportunity, Toots. If anything builds character, this shit builds character!"
She was losing interest. I had to reel her back in.
Offering money as a supplementary reward was useless with Emily. She always upped the ante to stratospheric levels that resulted in dismissal of the proposition. Offering favors met the same end. No dice. Then, inspired by the ongoing presidential race, I went on the Rovian attack:
"You won't last two sips."
Challenge accepted. I love a girl who will throw herself under the bus just to say, "Fuck you, honey." That's my Em.
Hardly able to contain myself in the glee of the moment, I hastily snatched any old bottle of water and rushed to the checkout.
"How are you, today?" the middle-aged man behind the counter greeted us.
"A lot better than she's going to be in about two minutes" I replied, with an evil grin.
The clerk looked to the counter, where that Hollywood prop-like can, devoid of "born-on" or expiration date, bearing not one or even three, but five X's, set. He looked at the can. He looked at her. He looked at me, this time taking in all of my menace. He understood.
"Oh boy." He said at her. "I haven't...." he cut himself off just before giving her a frank, third-party warning. Thank you, Kevin. You are the gas station employee of the month in my book.
Not halfway to the car I heard the crack of the can tab. The wind must have been just right at that moment, for the familiarly foreign stench of stink wafted up my nostrils. The wind must have been really right, because Emily was obviously not smelling what I was smelling when she sipped without sniffing.
Emily's head recoiled. Her tastebuds had come back with a "guilty" verdict faster than the Nevada jury that sent OJ to prison the previous night.
"Wow." she gagged. She pulled the can up and out from it's brown paper shroud to take in the source of her displeasure. The five X's made more sense now.
"Going back for seconds?" I prodded.
"Oh my God."
"I think I see hair growing on your chest."
"Shutup."
She sipped again.
"I'm going to just chug it."
No dice. One gulp was enough to spark the gag reflex.
Emily soldiered on. About thirty minutes into the drive, a little over a third of the can had been consumed. A red and white plastic bendy straw bobbed in the carbonated skunk juice, beaconing the source of the stench.
"I'm pretty drunk. Shouldn't this start tasting better?"
Haha, Emily. Welcome to the ranks of those who know that Camo is the only bad alcohol that does not taste better the more you drink.
"It's not getting any colder."
I could see the canned heroin taking its grip over the passenger seat. Sober, but not excluded, the euphoria braced me as well. I joined into the looney conversation topics. I think I even slurred a little to further Camo-flauging my consciousness through osmosis.
From Yahoo IM this morning:
Em: wow do i feel shitty today
Em: you think it was the camo
No, baby, that's just character growing pains.
User Reviews
Submitted by sage104 (user info) at 2008-10-08 14:28:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Vapid asshole with a penchant for, well, being an asshole, below.
Yes I suck at comebacks but I just dont give a fuck.
*******
Note to self: never drink camo. Also, kill weather. End note.
Good read, BTW.
Sage "POINTS!!" 104
Submitted by weather (user info) at 2008-10-08 12:41:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I unfortunately had a 40 oz. of this during college and needless to say, the weather was under the weather the next day.
Submitted by Ejryuu (user info) at 2008-10-08 12:28:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Nicely written! Makes me want to find a case of Steel Reserve and hurt things.
Submitted by monkeyswithguns (user info) at 2008-10-08 08:51:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
http://www.ubersite.com/m/112206
Not a huge difference between choices. Unfortunately camo was only available for a very short time where I lived at that point, and there wasn't any of that "camo-ice" crap either, it was jut plain ol' camo, in the olive dram camo can.
Maybe they changed the can colors so that the drunkards who live in the woods and live off the stuff could find their "daily bread."
Submitted by sexualchocolate1984 (user info) at 2008-10-08 05:52:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Nice read. There's no need to drink bad strong beer. It's a free country - you can have a good beer and a good whiskey. But nostalgia sometimes wins out over logic.
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I second that - why drink something that tastes bad? - If you really want to be wasted just do it like us Brits - Binge on stuff that tastes good, just drink loads!
Submitted by hidden101 (user info) at 2008-10-08 02:05:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
i didn't read the post, but i will say this- if you want to be a real man, you drink STEEL RESERVE 211.
Submitted by lungfish (user info) at 2008-10-07 19:57:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I almost died near Mesquite. Closest I've ever been to death without alcohol being involved.
Submitted by lungfish (user info) at 2008-10-07 19:54:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I'll buy some this weekend. thx
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2008-10-07 19:45:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by skrapmetal (user info) at 2008-10-07 17:31:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Nice read. There's no need to drink bad strong beer. It's a free country - you can have a good beer and a good whiskey. But nostalgia sometimes wins out over logic.