Dear Lone Star Bock,
I have long been a fan of your sibling, Lone Star. We have shared many an amazing night/day/night together. Floating rivers, paddling canoe's, talking with the ladies, and more. Lone Star doesn't make me ask questions or look for answers, it is simply the beer of the moment. You, however, are a massive disappointment and a blight on the good name you bare on your label. You make me ask questions, soul searching, mind crippling questions about: Why? Why in Gods name were you able to make it past the countless people who have created such magic as your older brother. Why would they let you slip past all the taste tests and marketing groups, all the way to the assembly line, to my unassuming refrigerator. Your aggressive looking rams head staring me in the face as I twisted off your cap, and the immortal words 'LONE STAR' blazing above it. I had hope, real hope, not the kind Obama promised, but like: Holy s***! I just fell into an alligator pit and am about to get my ass tore up! And then I see a hand reaching down from a place unseen, a strong, safe, secure hand, that I can rely on to pull me out of the daily drudge that we all deal with.... and those Goddamned Alligators! But, alas, you were there... Hiding your horrible deception beneath your promising visage. Like all your ancestors, I saluted all those who had fallen before you. With bold carelessness I turned you up on end, expecting the same standard of glory I had been so accustomed.... I found none. Instead, what I had found was a carefully hidden lie lurking beneath you outer shell. You must have been brewed with all of the half smoked cigars in Texas! This liquid ash tray being dumped into my mouth and running down my throat was an unexpected surprise indeed. But it was a far cry from the aftertaste of this crucible. I have had bad beer before, several times in fact, i'm no Nancy! Some times a situation calls for one to swill a warm beer thats been in a truck for months, or to polish off the rest of lonely soldier from the night before... But nothing, had prepared me for the onslaught my well traveled pallet was about to confront. I have never had a cigar be put out on my tongue before, and I have never had anyone piss in my face. But now I know that I will never have to wonder what the feeling of both, happening at the same time, would be like after trying You, Lone Star Bock. Thank you for giving me an experience that I will never forget.