4.7% ABV from a urinal
“How’s that Landshark Lager?”
“T’is what I heard. Get me a bottle.”
“Wait. You want a bottle of it?”
I have that conversation a lot with bartenders. As much as I love great beers, I also have a perverse fascination with trying the worst of the worst. Kinda like one of those guys that likes to go whaling, likes to play a little “stick a pig” at the bars. Thus, I was insanely jealous when my friend was clever enough to try this beer before me. Despite the clear bottle, despite the terrible name, the ugly packaging, and the Jimmy Buffett pedigree (I mean, seriously?!), I’d never once thought to try it.
But on a recent trip to the bar I saw it on the menu and had to seize on it. I was too embarrassed to have other bar patrons, other potential-one-night-stands-for-the-evening, seeing me drinking such a piece of shit beer so I went into the little boy’s room for a private tasting. Locking myself in a filthy public bathroom stall was a fitting place to drink Landshark. This beer is so bad that we are all the worse for its existence. My blog will never be the same now that this garbage has sullied my system and my generally regard for the world. I can’t imagine what kind of person drinks this beer. Those that find Corona too aggressive?! The kinda asshole who is old, fat, and wears a Hawaiian shirt literally ever day but still thinks he has a “License to Chill“? I pondered all these questions as I struggled to get the bottle down. I never walk out of a terrible movie and I never don’t finish an entire beer. However, this one I could handle only about half of. A startling indictment of its quality.
I left the bathroom, returned to the bar, and ordered a Old Grand-Dad triple to cleanse my palate.