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Nineteen?! When those fine wines were available you were old enough to go to a bar in OH and get a "fine" (albeit 3.2) beer. I admit to partaking in most of that lineup (er, once) but I'm pretty damn sure not after I was 16. Even 3.2 beer (however obtained) was preferable to that sweetened crap.:cheers:
When I was 14 (and with a bunch of 18 year olds) I got sent to the bar (by said 18 year olds) to buy a pitcher. Think it was called the Pirates Cove (next to JB's more or less) in Kent. Bartender hesitated. I lit a cig and threw some cash down. He served me. Ah, the 70's!I was in that age group where they started to crack down on the stores. I could walk in to almost any convenience store at age 15 and buy beer. By the time I was 18-19, we had to rely on my buddy's older brothers to get our beer. It is really strange looking back now. Easier to get alcohol at 15 than 19. The bars would still let us in and drink for the most part, but getting a case of beer from the store became pretty much impossible without help.
It was fire brewed!Yup. We drank those too. LOL. Then Strohs came out with some super cheap 18 pack and goddamnit, Strohs it was from there on out...
At some point--for whatever reason--by senior year of HS we separated into two camps--Busch and PBR. I'd still be hard pressed to distinguish between the two.Yup. We drank those too. LOL. Then Strohs came out with some super cheap 18 pack and goddamnit, Strohs it was from there on out...
Remember when those came out (think a girlfriend puked on me)....and Schlitz Malt Liquor (James Coburn anyone?). Fortunately, I moved to LA at 19 and it started me down the path of imports.Here's another one of our go to's.
I was well into my 20s before I realized there were beers out there that didn't taste like skunk piss...
Remember when those came out (think a girlfriend puked on me)....and Schlitz Malt Liquor (James Coburn anyone?). Fortunately, I moved to LA at 19 and it started me down the path of imports.
May have been previously referenced girlfriend's brother! Puked every time we drank. And kept drinking....and puking.....I still have a buddy that we call Mickey Mouth because he puked all over our buddies drinking that [Mark May]. He was in the back seat with me. He stuck his head between the front seats and puked, laughed, and then puked again. It was a total loss. It would have cost more to clean that car than the car was worth...