April 10th, 2004

run the fuck away

An Open Letter to the Makers of Bacardi 151

For the people responsible for Bacardi 151:

Last night, I was drinking Bacardi 151, and while doing so, I read the warning labels. You had two, fairly important ones on it that I remember- you warned that 151 was flammable, and that improperly used it could explode, and if you pulled off the anti-flame cap and stuffed a rag down it, you had the bourgious molotov cocktail with which to overthrow the proletariats using those tawdry gasoline based bombs. You also had the inevitable surgeon general's warning that made it clear that 151 would shrink my testicles and deform my children.

However, you did not have a third warning label, which should read roughly like this:
Bacardi 151 is a goddamn fucking stealth beverage. It will tempt you, saying, "You're not that drunk, have more," and after you've had what is, in reality, waaay to much, it says, "You think you are this drunk, buuuut..." and sweeps back the curtain, "You're actually this drunk!" From behind the curtain steps a large, ugly man who proceeds to beat you with a sledgehammer and then anally rape you with a goat. Not by a goat, with a goat. There's a difference.


On a side note, rum does wonderful things for my libido. I just wish the 151 had a better warning label.