Chelada, My introduction.
I've
got a younger brother who is one of my best friends, or . . .probably
is my best friend, but I don't get to see him very often. My younger
brother up and moved to Tyler, Texas (just as I did) as soon as he got
out of high school, unlike me, he never came home except to visit. Most
everything in this tale of my favourite beverage, and how I came to love
it is in the distant, hazy, and mostly intoxicated or miserable past.
Hey, I do what I can do to get by in this life, and sometimes that involves me getting a bit distant from the Pale, or being the Lunatic on the Grass.
I recall that I was living at my grandmother's house, and that I was probably selling cars at Doug Stanley Ford, and running a/c service calls for about half the pay that anyone else in this world would do it for. I was working 90 hours a week.
Nowadays I work zero hours a week, but this is how I have the time to tell you tales on Hubpages. I'm not certain what you did to deserve this reward or punishment - but you did it just the same, and here it is.
So hey, I'm not only someone prone to drug addiction. I'm the person who has at times consumed copious amounts of pharmaceutical grade amphetamines, and worked 70 + hours a week at either one or more jobs for months and months at a time. Face it, I'm a stud when it comes to abuse.
So as it happened, one evening my brother came to town - and we went to the beer store. I either had to work the next day, as always, or didn't care if I made it there or not, as always.
Hey, I do what I can do to get by in this life, and sometimes that involves me getting a bit distant from the Pale, or being the Lunatic on the Grass.
I recall that I was living at my grandmother's house, and that I was probably selling cars at Doug Stanley Ford, and running a/c service calls for about half the pay that anyone else in this world would do it for. I was working 90 hours a week.
Nowadays I work zero hours a week, but this is how I have the time to tell you tales on Hubpages. I'm not certain what you did to deserve this reward or punishment - but you did it just the same, and here it is.
So hey, I'm not only someone prone to drug addiction. I'm the person who has at times consumed copious amounts of pharmaceutical grade amphetamines, and worked 70 + hours a week at either one or more jobs for months and months at a time. Face it, I'm a stud when it comes to abuse.
So as it happened, one evening my brother came to town - and we went to the beer store. I either had to work the next day, as always, or didn't care if I made it there or not, as always.
The Brother.
Natural Light Beer.
Listen,
this is an article about beer, do you really expect it to be both
coherent and entertaining? Maybe you're on the wrong page, it's tough
for me to say, really - my thoughts are "entertain me, and the rest will
follow." No, that's never once worked out that I can remember, the
operative phrase here is that I can remember.
Anyway . . . .my brother came to town, and he bought some beer, Natural Light Beer, and he bought some Clamato, you know the stuff with the clam juice in it.
Clam Juice - WTF?
Yeah, I know. . .I mean, I don't know. I only know that if you give the stuff a shot, and don't think about how they squeeze poor, innocent little clams to get the juice out of them, then it's all good, you know?
Ci?
capiche?
Sheesh!
Anyway . . . .my brother came to town, and he bought some beer, Natural Light Beer, and he bought some Clamato, you know the stuff with the clam juice in it.
Clam Juice - WTF?
Yeah, I know. . .I mean, I don't know. I only know that if you give the stuff a shot, and don't think about how they squeeze poor, innocent little clams to get the juice out of them, then it's all good, you know?
Ci?
capiche?
Sheesh!
Natural Light Beer.
Clamato
Source
The Brother Poured Clamato INTO MY BEER!
So the brother and I were drinking, and he said to me,
"Hey, hand me your beer"
I'd not opened it yet, so I handed it to him. . .with suspicion in my mind. He then opened MY beer, and took a drink out of it, a big drink, as if he didn't have his own beer. My brother isn't prone to greed at all - even though he is a human (strange, I know.) so I wondered to myself,
What could this portend?
Then my brother opened the clamato, and I guess It's at this point that I started to be concerned. I had no idea what he intended to do with that crap, but he intended to put some of it into my beer - which in my mind, might as well have been his beer, he was the one drinking it.
"HEY! STOP THAT!"
I exclaimed, being very concerned about the strange behaviour the never greedy and always pleasant brother was displaying.
The brother looked at me with an almost hurt look in his eyes and said,
"You don't wanna try my tasty treat?"
"Hey, hand me your beer"
I'd not opened it yet, so I handed it to him. . .with suspicion in my mind. He then opened MY beer, and took a drink out of it, a big drink, as if he didn't have his own beer. My brother isn't prone to greed at all - even though he is a human (strange, I know.) so I wondered to myself,
What could this portend?
Then my brother opened the clamato, and I guess It's at this point that I started to be concerned. I had no idea what he intended to do with that crap, but he intended to put some of it into my beer - which in my mind, might as well have been his beer, he was the one drinking it.
"HEY! STOP THAT!"
I exclaimed, being very concerned about the strange behaviour the never greedy and always pleasant brother was displaying.
The brother looked at me with an almost hurt look in his eyes and said,
"You don't wanna try my tasty treat?"
The Budweiser Chelada.
Source
Chelada
That's
exactly how it happened, friends, I'd never lie to you. Soon I
couldn't buy beer without buying Clamato, hell, I even squeezed the
juice out of some live clams myself - guess I didn't do it right, as it
only made a mess. I need a professional clam squeezer.
Before long, the good, honest, God fearing people at Budweiser noticed me, their number one customer - and my peculiar purchasing habits at convenience stores, and they sent the data down to product development, and made some decisions - the right decisions.
Not long after that, I saw my favourite beverage on the shelves at stores, with salt and lime included into the mix. It seems the good, honest, and God fearing people at Budweiser can not only read my purchasing habits through information sales in the matrix, they can also predict what I would like if I only knew about it.
God Bless America.
Before long, the good, honest, God fearing people at Budweiser noticed me, their number one customer - and my peculiar purchasing habits at convenience stores, and they sent the data down to product development, and made some decisions - the right decisions.
Not long after that, I saw my favourite beverage on the shelves at stores, with salt and lime included into the mix. It seems the good, honest, and God fearing people at Budweiser can not only read my purchasing habits through information sales in the matrix, they can also predict what I would like if I only knew about it.
God Bless America.
The 27ft Penske Truck - Don't Drink Chelada And Drive One of These.
Source
Budweiser Chelada - SERIOUS BUSINESS!
I've no idea what all of the tomfoolery going on in the video above is about. The people seem to be merrymaking well enough, but they are joking about my favourite beverage - but I'm not laughing along with them. Oh no! Friends, beer is seriously serious business.I tell you, as I type between sips of Budweiser Chelada, I once travelled the nation in a twenty seven foot Penske box truck moving furniture with a Hispanic guy that I didn't get along with so well. The only time I was happy was the times when I was in Texas, Florida, or Minnesota - that's right, those were the only three states that got the test runs for Budweiser Chelada.
In Nashville, Tennessee - a place that you think would be somewhat accepting of the beer drinking habits of Texas boys I was met with either cold or blank stares.
We've never heard of what you're talking about.
I refuse to go there again until I'm certain that they DO know what I'm talking about.
Three quarters of the way down the tip of Florida, and in a terrible traffic jam, as the whole free way was shut down, the good people of Florida DID know what I was talking about. Despite the pill mills, drug testing of the most oppressed members of that state's society, and a governor who's wife profits from the drug testing of the state's most oppressed members . . .well, at least they had Chelada.
Did I mention that I'm drinking one NOW?
Later, as I nearly ran out of gas in Chicago, Illinois - I found that the windy city was just a bag of wind. They didn't know about Chelada. Milwaukee, Wisconsin - supposedly beer made Milwaukee famous - but it made a fool out of me. There was no Chelada to be found there.
So what could I do? I headed West, young man - to St. Paul, Minnesota - you don't get to be a Saint for nothing, even if I disagree with practically everything that you wrote that got put into the New Testament. I promise you that Jesus and the N.T. authors that weren't St. Paul, those folks said everything that made sense. But in St. Paul, they had Chelada.
God bless St. Paul!
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