Corona beer review

by Jill Lutes
(Beer Delegate, NS, Canada)

Corona beer: review Jill's thoughts. It's EVIL

Corona beer review -- possibly the strangest ever written!

Corona. It's Spanish for "Evil".

Once upon a time, I had a friend named Corona. He was very handsome, with his pale amber colouring, his festive little lime... and all those bubbles. As long as he was around, I knew I was in for a good night.

Sadly, our time together must end. Because of last night's disastrous, unofficial Corona beer review session, I’m breaking up with him. It is OVER! Do you hear me, Corona? OVER!!

I had a work function to go to. Very posh, very dressy, men in tuxes and gorgeous suits, women in formal dresses and full length gowns, and my friend, Corona, was everywhere.

Now, you would think after the last work function I’d been to, my boss, colleagues, and the general public at large would work very hard to keep Corona and I far, far away from each other.

The last one involved me getting very drunk, yelling at my boss, and then wandering into the ladies room and telling everyone in there that my boss was a bastard.

Ten minutes later, one of the women who’d been in there came up to me and said, quietly, "Have you calmed down?" to which I responded, rather saucily, "I dunno, have YOU calmed down?"

I then proceeded to literally fall on the CEO’s feet (ON them), and was whisked away in a cab.

And yet, last night? Bottle after bottle was brought to me. There’s me, thinking, "Do they have NO recollection of the last party? REALLY? Fine, whatever, just hand over the deliciousness and be on your way, while I continue my 'Corona beer review'..."

Cut to me, half an hour later, running, RUNNING, (in heels, no less) after the Prime Minister’s wife (Hi, Mrs. Blair. If you’re reading this... I'm very sorry.) down the hallway. Her secret service guys? Very scary. I was impressed. My boss? Not so impressed.

So... we eat a little, we drink some more (stupid, stupid me), and finally, it’s time to go home. I am feeling very, very energetic at this point, and decide that I’ll get out before my stop on the tube, and walk the rest of the way.

Brilliant. I’m wearing a tight black dress, killer heels, tons of makeup... and my West Coast Choppers hoodie.

I got five "Honey, how much?" offers and one marriage proposal. The weird side-effects of an in-depth Corona beer review...

Get home, chat with flatmates.... And then? Total blackout. All I know is I woke up this morning, and everything was on.

Television? On. Radio? On. Computer? On. Little string of paper lanterns? On. Dress, heels, and makeup? ON, ON, ON!!!

It’s as though I considered getting ready to go to bed, and figured, "Nah... may as well just..." THUD. Fall down in a dead sleep on my bed. On top of the covers.

Do you KNOW how hard it is to get eye makeup off when it’s had 15 hours to adhere itself to your skin? That shit is never coming off, I tell you. I look like I’ve gone ten rounds with Rocky.

And you know what I have to do now? I gotta go to work. That's my last EVER Corona beer review!

I blame you, Corona. We are NEVER seeing each other again. I know, I know, there's a party next week, and we'll both be there, but I will studiously avoid you and make friends with the vodka instead. HA!